Page 122 of Dare to Hold
But here I am. Same pattern. Different girl.
I blink, and suddenly I’m not in my truck anymore. I’m back in that cramped apartment two years ago. Sitting across from Claire, my last girlfriend. She had her arms crossed, eyes glossy with tears.
“You don’t get it, Gray,” she said, voice trembling. “I’m trying, but it’s like I’m always behind. You expect me to be perfect. To believe as hard as you do. To want everything you want—right now.”
I remember sitting there, stunned. Thinking I was helping her. Guiding her. But all I was doing was pushing her toward a version of faith that looked like mine—but wasn’t hers.
She walked out two weeks later. And I told myself I wouldn’t be that guy again.
But this morning…I felt it happening all over again. The urgency. The fear. The need to seal something before it slipped away.
I grip the wheel tighter, jaw clenched. “I can’t lose her,” I whisper.
The light turns green, but I pull over instead. Park along the curb and stare at my phone for a second before dialing the one person I know will call me out and still love me after.
Jack.
Voicemail.
“Of course,” I mumble, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Of course you’re preaching or off saving the world.”
I hesitate a beat, then scroll to the next name that matters.
Micah.
I hit call before I can talk myself out of it.
It rings once. Twice. Then?—
“Gray?”
Relief punches through me.
“Hey, you free?” My voice cracks in a way I hate. “I...kinda need someone to talk to. Like, now.”
There’s a pause, then Micah says, “Yeah, man. You okay?”
I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Not really.”
“I’m at the church. Come by.”
I nod like he can see me. “On my way.”
I hang up and toss my phone onto the passenger seat, heart pounding.
Because the thought I can’t shake is the one I’ve been too afraid to say out loud: what if she doesn’t choose Him?
What if Ivy never gets there? What if all my prayers, all my waiting, still end with her walking away—from Jesus? And from me?
The questions circle like vultures, heavy and relentless. I grip the steering wheel until my hands ache.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m this close to messing upsomething good.
And I’m not about to let fear and old habits take Ivy away from me.
The church hallway is quiet, yet it feels too loud with my head being this full. I find Micah in his office, hunched over a clipboard with crayon doodles on the edge.
He looks up, and the grin that spreads across his face is equal parts relief and welcome. “There you are. I was starting to wonder if you’d actually show up.”
