Page 58 of Not So Very Sensible

“Stop looking at me like that, Son. I don’t need your judgement. Of course I loved your mother. She knew that.”

She’d believed that, anyway.

“And it’s precisely your mother that you need to be taking into consideration now. She and Christine always intended for you and Lucinda to marry. You know it was her dying wish.”

“One of the last things she told me was that she wanted me to be happy. And marrying Lucinda won’t make me happy.”

“If you don’t do this, you’ll be making a lot of other people very unhappy.”

“Well, tough.”

His dad’s eyes opened wider than he remembered ever seeing. Not since the leader of the Victorian Liberal Party had suddenly announced he was stepping down, effective immediately. Dad hadn’t stopped talking about that for weeks.

“What did you just say?”

“Dad, you can’t force me to marry someone I don’t want to marry. This isn’t the Middle Ages.”

His father studied him with narrowed eyes as the silence thickened.

Ethan experienced another shiver. Yes, his dad was manipulative and controlling—he had known it all his life—but this seemed scarily next level. When his father looked at people like that, it felt like he was plotting some Machiavellian scheme. But he wouldn’t back down. “This is my life we’re talking about.”

“This is Christine’s life we’re talking about. Or what’s left of it, anyway. And you’ll do well to remember they have been good friends—the best of friends—these past two dozen years, and I will not let a selfish son of mine spoil that.”

Ethan crossed his arms, lifted his chin. “Did you have anything else to say?”

“No. You can leave.”

Ethan’s fingers clenched as he turned and left the room. His father’s penthouse office with its glass and sharp metal angles was hardly a space for warm convivial family chats, but this encounter had taken things to a new and dirty level. How dare his father think he could control Ethan like that?

He stabbed at the elevator button for the parking, then practiced deep breathing as he descended in the rush of movement to the third level underground. He didn’t want anyone coming in and seeing him about to blow his top.

The elevator paused at the ground floor, letting on a couple of people he recognised. He nodded, then pretended interest in his new phone, not wanting to talk, not wanting to explode.

He frowned, trying to remember for the umpteenth time his Instagram password. Since getting a new phone, he’d been able to access most of his contacts and emails via the Cloud. Thank God for technology saviours like that. Except he still couldn’t get his social media to work.

He’d tried all his passwords, but after five failed attempts, Instagram had locked him out. Which meant he had an icon on his phone he couldn’t use. And meant he had no way to contact the one person he really wanted to connect with.

The elevator finally reached his floor, and he moved to his car, sat in the driver’s seat, and tried again, but no. Still locked out. “Man!”

He threw his phone on the front passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, pressing his forehead against it. Why couldn’t something in life be easy for a change? Being with Ellie had felt easy. But ever since Monday evening, everything else had felt impossibly hard.

And now the thought that he couldn’t message her, couldn’t reach out, while his dad was mad at him and looking like he was scheming a way for Ethan to do his bidding as he’d always done before, felt like the cherry on top of the cow manure sundae.

“God, I need You.”

He closed his eyes, drew in a frustrated breath, and slowly exhaled. His dad might be controlling and manipulative, but his heavenly Father always had Ethan’s best in mind. Which meant Ethan could give his situation to Him and trust Him to give Ethan wisdom for what lay ahead.

Lord, I don’t want to end up doing something if it’s not what You want. Give me wisdom and peace and strength for all that lies ahead. And Lord, if there’s some way You can change Lucinda’s mind and get her to stop fixating on me, that would be awesome. Oh, and please help me get in touch with Ellie—I’d really appreciate that.

He breathed in and out. In. Out. Then a thought sparked. Of course! He could access Instagram by his computer. New impetus travelled with him as he drove home and accessed his laptop. But even then, when he tried to access Instagram, he couldn’t remember his password. Which again left him frustrated, not knowing what to do. Could he ask someone else to find Ellie on Instagram? Do a Google search for her? How could he do that when he didn’t even know her last name? He wished he could remember what her Insta handle was, or the name of the town Katie had mentioned. He couldn’t very well trawl the many towns of the Southern Highlands looking for her in all the different cafés or cake shops. Well, he could, but with more than sixty cafés, that’d take weeks. If only she’d told him the name of the café her parents owned.

His phone rang. It was Charlene. “Hey Ethan. Just checking in to make sure you’re okay about running youth group tomorrow night.”

Shoot. He’d forgotten she would be away. “Uh, sure.”

“Hmm, I’m guessing from the extreme confidence you just displayed, that is a faith statement rather than a real one.”

“Sorry. It’s been a week.”