“Your mom told me how he reacted.”
“He screamed at me like I was selling my body on OnlyFans or something.” Her voice cracked as if the accusation hurt allover again. “He didn’t care how I felt, just…” She looked away, out at the water. “Just what people would think.”
“I’m sorry that happened. You deserved better than that.”
“Do I?” she scoffed. “I mean, he wasn’t wrong. People sure did think…things.”
“First of all, they’ll forget. Second, you shouldn’t care what people think.”
“I do.” She squinted into the setting sun. “I care what you think.”
The honesty touched him. “Here’s what I think,” he said. “People deserve grace, especially when they’ve made a mistake. Especially when they’re already beating themselves up about it.”
“Grace,” she repeated. “Church word. Mom said you were…a church guy.”
He smiled at the phrase. “Fair enough, but the concept of grace doesn’t have to stay in church.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. He knew Kate’s position. He knew he was walking a line. But he also knew what he believed, and Emma was sitting in front of him with real pain, and he owed her honesty.
“I’m an architect,” he said, hoping to come at it from that perspective, rather than one of “a church guy.” “One of the most important tools we use is a plumb line. You know what that is?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a weight on a string. You hold it up and gravity pulls it perfectly straight—perfectly vertical. It doesn’t care what the wall looks like or what the builder thinks. It just shows you what’s true. Whether the wall is straight or not.”
“Okay…”
“I believe God is the plumb line of life,” he said. “Not what other people think of you. Not social media. Not the kids at school. They’re all shifting and unreliable. But there’s a standardthat doesn’t move, and it says you have value that no mistake can erase.”
She didn’t roll her eyes. She didn’t look away. She just listened, her chin resting on her knees.
“I know it’s hard to see it that way,” he continued gently. “But I believe you were made with purpose, in the image of God, and that includes your body. It’s yours, Emma. It has real value. And the boy who took what you trusted him with and used it to hurt you? He didn’t just violate your trust. He disrespected something that is sacred.”
“Sacred,” she repeated, as though testing the word.
“Your body is a temple. That’s not me being preachy. That’s not a cliché—it’s directly from the Bible. A temple is a place where God lives.”
“It says that?”
He dug into his memory for the verse. “First Corinthians, maybe chapter six. It says, ‘Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own.’”
He could quote more, but if he went any further, he’d end up preaching the gospel and that might be too much.
No, it was never too much, but he had to tread lightly.
She was quiet for a long time. A dolphin surfaced about thirty yards off the bow, its gray fin cutting the water in a smooth arc before disappearing. They both watched it, letting the distraction give them a chance to breathe.
“I went to a youth group once when I was in middle school,” Emma said. “With my friend Chloe. It was at her church in Ithaca.”
“Yeah? What did you think?”
“It was…nice. Not what I expected. They weren’t weird about it. They just talked about life and stuff and then someone played guitar and it felt like…” She searched for the word. “Safe.”
“That’s what it should feel like.”
“I want to be…a temple,” she said softly. “I want to be special to someone.” She let out a long sigh. “I am so, so sorry I sent that stupid picture. Not just because it blew up in my face, but because…” She looked down, quiet for a few heartbeats. “Yeah, I’m sorry.”
Eli knew she’d just repented, but he also sensed this was enough Christian lessons for one day. Still, he couldn’t resist one more question.
“If you ever want to wander into a church with me while you’re here, I go to a nice one in Destin. Really chill.”
