Page 135 of To Belong Together
She’d come to the picnic area to feel close to her father and to see if God would meet her here the way she hoped He’d met and comforted Dad as he’d waited for rescue.
And the Lord had comforted her, though when she’d lifted her concerns about the debt she owed John, He hadn’t supplied immediate insight. Instead, He quieted her with the assurance that love, not clear books, was her truest need. In God, she had all the love she needed, regardless of how she was received by anyone else—John included.
Shortly after she’d started praying that God would help her to be content with Him alone, the rain had started. It’d seemed like a test. Could she be content enough to stay with God, despite being cold and wet?
For a few minutes, yes, but the cold had started to get to her, and she’d questioned the sanity of continuing to sit there. She and God had done their business for the night, and it wasn’t as if catching hypothermia would make her more spiritual.
She’d opened her eyes, planning to leave, and there stood John.
A downpour of thoughts flooded whatever good sense she’d had left.
Was this an answer to prayer, where God would restore what had broken between them? Or would this be a final goodbye, one God had determined she was ready for now that she’d committed to being content with Him?
John certainlylookedlike an answer to prayer. The water had plastered his shirt to the toned contours of his chest and arms, contours she could see thanks to … She twisted and spotted headlights. He’d driven here in the rain. That couldn’t have been easy for him.
She refocused on him, standing there in the icy rain, staring at her. Since the Lord had provided the opportunity to talk with him, she’d better get a move on. “I shouldn’t have kept the foreclosure a secret, and I shouldn’t have mentioned you to Uncle Nick—ever. I panicked. I was grasping at straws to save Mom’s house. Nick did give me a raise, but he said it’s for doing good work. And if I’d known about your gift before Mom had put it toward the mortgage, I never would’ve let her.”
John’s shoulders seemed to relax. He took a seat beside her and pushed his wet hair off his forehead. “I’m sorry, Erin.”
Hewas sorry?
“You were right,” she confessed. “The sale fell through. Without you, we would’ve lost the house after all.” She sighed, reminding herself to be content with the way God had provided instead of questioning how to fix something that was beyond her control. “I just wish I knew how to convince you I like you for who you are, not your money. I’ll pay you back, but it’ll take some time.”
“Don’t. Keep your own place, unless you don’t want to. In which case, sell it and save the money. I want to help. You and your mom have been through enough.” His tone was even and sincere.
But the gift was too much to accept as a permanent offering when she knew how much it cost him emotionally. “I can’t let you cover our debt.”
“I already did.” He wrapped an arm around her, fostering warmth, though he had to be freezing without a jacket. “As for who I am … It turns out I’m not who I thought I was. I’m glad to do some good for someone I care about because fame and money also come with inconveniences for the people I’m close to.”
She first remembered the tinge of jealousy she’d felt when fans had approached him at the rehearsal dinner, but then another memory overtook it. “Like getting to listen to a few pre-teen girls debate which of your girlfriends is prettiest and might hold your interest?”
His jaw dropped. “That happened?”
And it’d impacted her more than she cared to admit. “At the reception.”
He closed his mouth and nodded, seeming to put more serious consideration into the event than she’d meant to elicit. “Please tell me that’s not why you left without talking to me.”
“It …” Voicing all the fears that had haunted her felt like touching wet paint. She and God had dealt with it, but her new outlook hadn’t had time to thoroughly dry yet. Still, John deserved to know. “The girls hit a sore spot. You seemed too good to be true.”
He cringed as if he’d watched her hit her own thumb with a hammer. “I’m not, Erin. I’m flawed.”
“You’re gorgeous, John.”
He threw his head back and laughed before giving her a look that asked her to be serious.
“I mean it. I saw that right away and then figured out you’re also well off and responsible and dote on your sisters. Meanwhile, I’m not exactly a classic beauty. I’m loud and rash and unladylike, and I couldn’t believe your interest was real. I saw you with that other woman at the reception, and I heard those girls talking about your last girlfriend. I looked up pictures of her and was shocked. In a world of such beautiful options, I couldn’t believe you’d choose me.”
His chin dipped, head lowered in thought. When he focused on her again, pain laced his expression. “For me, opening up has meant losing people. At the first sign that might be happening with you, I overreacted. People don’t always understand me, but I try to be there for the ones I love. I failed at that with you. Utterly. I can’t say how sorry I am.”
Love? Had he meant that to include her?
“I didn’t make it easy for you,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“You seemed so confident that, when you said or did something that didn’t line up, I never guessed insecurity was the cause.”
Insecurity. Such a simple diagnosis, such devastating results.
She peered into the murky forest. “God set me straight. He sees value in me, so why was I so convinced you couldn’t? You were right to call me on keeping the foreclosure from you and name-dropping to get a raise. If that were all it’d been, I would’ve tried talking to you. Apologizing. But by the time I realized how twisted my thinking had been, you’d also put up the money for the mortgage. Once the sale of my place fell through, I couldn’t figure out how to make that right. I went to the concert looking for a new perspective on you, hoping an idea would come to me.”
