“Not because I didn’t want to be with her,” I clarify. “But because the timing was wrong. And . . . I knew you wouldn’t approve. I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship.”
“Bull.”
I grimace. “It’s the truth.”
He purses his lips, still studying me. Finally, he uncrosses his arms and shakes his head. “Look, believe it or not, I actually believe you. I know you love Evie, and I also know you wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt her.” I can hear thebutcoming from a mile off. “But from the sounds of it, you’ve messed up once before. What makes you think this time will be any different?”
His question is valid enough. I’ve thought about that at least a thousand times myself, but . . . Evie is what I want. She’s all I’ve wanted for quite some time. Except . . . God’s warning from last week niggles in the back of my mind. Godmight have something incredible in store for Evie, and a relationship with me might be standing in the way of that. Or maybe I’m hindering her spiritual growth in some way—especially if she’s “worshipping”the ground I walk on. And I can’t deny that I only seem to bring her heartache, not happiness.
Jamie takes mercy on me. “I love you, man. You know that. But this is my baby sister we’re talking about, and she’s—well, we both know what she’s like. My concern is that the Brandon I know is still in there, and he’s going to backslide at some point and break her heart. I wouldn’t be able to let you live.”
Of all the things I expected him to say . . .
His doubt in me stings more than I thought it would. But worse, what if he’s right? I have already failed monstrously at protecting Evie from myself. In fact, I fail daily. My reluctance to surrender my plans for His is all the proof one needs to discern I haven’t really changed. At least—not enough to be the kind of man Evie deserves. A man who will love her like Christ loves the church. Unconditionally, selflessly, and sacrificially. A man who will lead her in love and truth, laying down his health, his happiness, his very life to protect her.
A man more like . . . Adam.
Is this really Your will, Lord? That I let Evie go? Release her from the bondage of my love?
His silence seems to affirm His answer.
Chapter 40
Evie
Five Weeks Later
“Idon’tknowwhyI’meven bothering,” Grandma says, sounding more dejected than ever as she struggles through yet another leg raise. My heart sinks when she swears under her breath.
I’m very worried about her.
For the past month, I’ve watched her struggle through her physical therapy sessions. Her fall has had as much of an emotional impact on her as the physical. Some days, she doesn’t have the desire or motivation to keep fighting.
I don’t blame her. After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Much like Grandma refused to accept help in the home, for a long time I refused to accept that I needed to start taking better care of myself, and I’m reaping the consequences.
Now that Iamworking toward that goal, I wish I had taken the steps to do so sooner. Better late than never, though, right? I’ve started seeing a therapist, and I have an appointment scheduled with Brandon’s neurologist friend next month. And after meeting up with the pastor’s wife, Merilyn, for that long overdue coffee and heart-to-heart, I started attending church regularly and going to Adam’s weekly Bible studies. Abi and I have gotten much closer as well, and she referred me to a church group for bereaved mothers after I confided in her about my miscarriage. Her friendship has been such an unexpected blessing.
“Grandma, we’ve been through this before,” I remind her gently. “Baby steps. You’re doing great. Just a couple more weeks of building up your strength with the walker, and you’ll be walking on your own in no time.”
She grimaces down at the walker she’s holding on to for support. “We all know your dad is just going to ship me off to Sunny Days as soon as I’m better.”
“Sunny Days is hardly a prison,” Francine remarks as she appears in the living room doorway, balancing a tray of coffees on her open palm. She sets it down on the coffee table and takes the seat next to me on the couch. “It’s the area’s most luxurious assisted living facility. My mom lives there and she loves it. In fact, she said she wished she’d made the transition sooner.”
“Well, I’m not your mother, Francine,” Grandma fires back.
Francine and I share a loaded glance. Grandma’s been a little . . . feistier than usual.
Swallowing, I scooch forward on the couch. “Grandma, I used to work there. It’s a great place.” I hate the words as they leave my lips; I feel like a filthy traitor. I always vowed to support Grandma in her pursuit of independent living. But if last month’s fall demonstrated anything, it’s that she needs more help than I can give her. “It’s basically a resort for older adults, complete with a private spa, state-of-the-art gym, and tons of community programs.”
“Not you, too, Evie,” Grandma grumbles.
I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”
Grandma stares out the windows as snow gently falls from the February sky. “How will I fit all my belongings into a one-bedroom apartment?”
You won’t. You’ll have to downsize. I’ve already started getting rid of some things myself . . .
“And what about my neighbors and friends?” Grandma continues, despairing. “My whole life is here.”
