Page 106 of Dare to Hold
“This whole faith thing. I see you guys diving in, and I just...I don’t feel it. I don’t want to fake it just to fit in.” Her voice is quiet, almost apologetic.
I lean back, watching her. “No one’s asking you to fake anything, Liv.”
She nods, her gaze dropping to her coffee cup. “I know. It’s just...it’s like I’m waiting for something to click, and it never does. I want to believe—I do. But I also don’t want to pretend.”
Harper reaches over, grabbing a sugar packet and tearing it open. “I think everyone feels like that sometimes.” She empties the sugar into her coffee, stirring it slowly. “Honestly? I’ve been around church my whole life and I still don’t get everything. That’s kinda the point, right? You’re not supposed to have it all figured out.”
Olivia glances up, her eyes softening. “Do you ever feel like you’re faking it?”
Harper laughs, the sound sudden and loud enough to draw a glance from the booth behind us. “Me? Oh, all the time. But that’s what clipboards are for.”
Olivia blinks. “Clipboards?”
Harper nods, tapping the table. “When I don’t know what I’m doing, I just write random things on my clipboard. Pretend I’ve got it all handled. Eventually, I do.” She shrugs. “Fake it till you make it. Or, you know...until you get glitter bombed by a bunch of three-year-olds.”
I snort, shaking my head. “You hide behind structure.”
Harper doesn’t flinch. “I hide behind a lot of things.”
The confession hangs between us, fragile and real. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say it out loud. Olivia’s gaze flickers between us, her expression softening.
“Maybe I need a clipboard,” Olivia mutters, half to herself.
Harper laughs, handing her a sugar packet. “Here, start with this. Sugar’s the foundation of all good plans.”
Olivia actually laughs—like, really laughs. The sound is light and unburdened, and it makes me realize how much I’ve missed it.
The waitress brings our food, and the table is quickly covered with plates of breakfast perfection. Harper immediately starts cutting into the waffles, piling strawberries and whipped cream onto her plate.
We dig in, the conversation lightening with every bite. Harper’s retelling stories of her morning, complete with dramatic reenactments, and Olivia actually seems...relaxed.
But through it all, I can’t stop the little voice in my head—the one that’s replaying Harper’s comment back at the church:It takes all of his strength to not spend time with you.
My fork hovers over my plate, my mind running circles around the thought.
Harper nudges me with her elbow, her mouth half-full of syrupy waffle. “Are you ok? You look like you’re having an existential crisis over pancakes.”
I laugh, the sound lighter than I feel. “Just...thinking.”
Harper rolls her eyes. “You think too much.”
I shrug, picking at my food. “Yeah. Maybe.”
But even as the conversation swirls back into jokes and sarcasm, I can’t shake it. That question. That lingering thread of doubt.
Am I giving too much of myself away?
Or...am I finally giving it to the right person?
Chapter 27
Gray
The van smelled like old french fries, sweaty teenagers, and half-used Axe body spray, but I swear I could’ve ridden another hundred miles if it meant keeping that buzz from the weekend a little longer.
Music camp for teens wasn’t exactly my idea of a relaxing getaway, but somewhere between the late-night worship sets and those cracked-open conversations with kids who reminded me way too much of myself—I remembered why I said yes in the first place.
Because Jesus shows up when you least expect it.
