Page 61 of Property of Quake

I grin. “Nope."

A laugh escapes her, and she moves to the desk and sets her folders down on the corner.

Fuck, I love making her laugh.

When she turns back to me, she asks, "Would you mind walking with me?"

"I'd follow you almost anywhere." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them.

Her eyes widen, and for one horrifying second, I consider throwing myself through the nearest window.

But then Whitney smiles, a beautiful smile that lights up the universe.

Damn, I’m getting soft.

We leave the office and walk through the halls until we reach the chapel. Surprisingly, I’ve never set foot in it even though I’ve been coming here for years.

Whitney stares at the double doors for so long that I know this conversation has been building inside her for a while. After a minute, she pulls the doors open, and she steps inside. I, however, hesitate.

What if lightning strikes me dead for daring to enter such a holy space?

“You coming?” she asks over her shoulder.

I take a deep breath and cross the threshold. When my heart remains beating inside my chest, I know I’m safe. Together, we walk to the front pew and sit.

"I talked to Sister Beatrice this morning,” she says quietly, staring at the large cross suspended at the front of the room.

I remain silent, instinct telling me she needs to say this in her own way, not mine.

"For years I thought I knew exactly what my future looked like. I thought I knew who I was supposed to become." A sadness enters her expression, the kind that comes from the acceptance of change. "I've spent weeks trying to figure out whether my feelings for you meant I was failing."

My chest tightens.

That can’t be good.

Whitney laughs softly before continuing. "I realize now I was asking the wrong question."

Wait, what?

"What question should you have been asking?"

She finally turns toward me, whether because she's ready or because she can't avoid it any longer, I don't know. “I should’ve been asking if this was ever actually my path.” The vulnerability in her eyes nearly wrecks me. "I love Sacred Haven. I love the sisters. And I love helping children.” I nod. “They saved my life.” Her expression shifts to one of thoughtful certainty. “But loving something doesn’t necessarily mean you're supposed to stay there forever.”

Understanding hits me with all the force of a sledgehammer.

This isn’t about me and never was. It’s not even about Melissa or God or her promise to Ryan.

This is about Whitney finally figuring out what she wants and who she is without all the external factors.

"I thought leaving would mean I was turning my back on God,” she whispers, and my heart hurts for her because she’s carried that burden alone. “I don’t think that anymore.” Her eyes shine with unshed tears as hope flares in my chest. “Sister Beatrice said something this morning that stuck."

“What’s that?”

"She told me that God doesn't ask us to become less of who we are. He asks us to become more." Whitney slides her hand across the pew and grabs mine. “I’ve made my decision.”

“What decision?”

She rises, pulling me with her, and I frame her face in my hands, craving the feeling of her skin.