Page 112 of No Place Like Home
Hadn’t she and Cade always been on opposing teams anyway?
She stared at the ground below her, so far away.
Surrender.
The word bubbled from her heart and echoed in her brain. Tears pricked Rosalyn’s eyes and she gripped the silks harder. No. She couldn’t surrender. Surrender meant telling her parents the truth. Letting go of pride and perfectionism. Opening her heart to Cade, taking a risk. None of that was safe.
It’d be falling all over again.
Surrender.
It came again, like a voice this time, firm but gentle.
Was God finally speaking to her?
“Help me.” The prayer slipped through her lips as more tears fell. Then a piece of fear slipped off and joined them. She swallowed. “I’m scared.” Speaking the truth out loud loosened another piece.
Maybe that’d been the secret. Simply speaking up.
And being heard by the One who had been whispering all along.
“I’m scared of rejection.” She forced boldness into her voice. “I’m scared the worst about me is true.”
The statements fell off her lips and mingled with her tears on the arena floor, each one lightening her load, loosening the knot in her chest.
“And if the worstistrue…if I’m not perfect…will anyone want me?”
Rosalyn took a breath, hands shaking against the fabric.
Cade’s words from that fateful day in New Orleans, at Bruno’s, filled her mind.I don’t think that’s how that works, Ace.
She’d believed so many lies for so long, stating truths out loud suddenly felt marvelously clear. And she didn’t have to have it all together first.
She really didn’t have to be perfect.
A measure of peace slowly wedged in her heart. She couldn’t predict the future, or what Mom would think, or if Cade would stick by her through her imperfect mess.
She couldn’t control any of those things. But shecouldmake good decisions—starting with telling her parents the whole truth. And she could tell Cade how she felt. She could squash her pride once and for all.
And fly. Rosalyn let go. Unrolled.
Soared.
Joy bubbled. The fabric caught her—or maybe love?—and Rosalyn smiled as she stood, back on solid ground. The urge to whistle overcame her, and she laughed. Yep. She could do this. She could tell the truth, could reveal her imperfection.
She could surrender.
Rosalyn let go of the fabric and turned to grab her bag. Movement fluttered across the ring as she stood upright. She looked over and froze.
A man’s silhouette blocked the tent exit.
twenty-seven
“Are yousureyou don’t want a coffee?” Cade’s mom hovered in the doorway of his parents’ elegantly decorated living room, still wearing a neatly pressed pantsuit despite the late hour. “I can make decaf. We have the pods.”
Cade stretched back on their white leather couch, careful not to let the soot-covered soles of his shoes touch the material as he hooked one ankle over his knee. He was sure he didn’t want any coffee, as he’d already stated twice. He was too jittery to consume anything.
For the first time in his life, he wasn’t hungry.
