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It was eleven at night when she reached the house in her rental car. Without worrying about her suitcase, she got out and hurried up the steps.

The porch door opened.

“Am I welcome?” she asked when she saw their faces in the aperture. “I don’t mean for overnight. This afternoon I told the principal I needed time off. I didn’t know where else to go but home where…I used to be happy.”

Tears glistened in her parents’ eyes.

“The more important question is, will you forgive us?” her mother asked. “We’ve talked of nothing but you and Jarod since you brought him home to meet us.”

“Jarod’s gone out of my life,” she said woodenly. “You were right, and I was wrong, so let’s not talk about forgiveness.”

Her father put his arm around her. “We raised you the way our parents raised us. Mistakes have been made because we didn’t want to see you hurt. But our little girl’s hurting anyway, and that’s our fault.”

“No, it isn’t, Dad.” She wiped her eyes. “Jarod told me some things about myself I need to acknowledge and work on.”

“It’s time this family worked on things together,” her mother declared. “We’re going to do better. Come on in, honey. We’re thankful you’re home.”

Her parents’ attitude was so nurturing, it was the balm Sydney needed as she walked in the house.

“I saved dinner for you. All I have to do is warm it up, but if you’re not hungry…”

“I’m not, but thanks anyway, Mom.”

“Do you feel like talking, or do you just want to go to bed?”

“That’s the trouble, Dad.” She burst into tears. “With Jarod gone, nothing matters anymore. Not eating, not sleeping. He’s my whole life, and I’ve lost him because of my pathetic lack of faith.

“All these years I’ve gone my own way without wanting any spiritual help, so it’s my fault if I haven’t developed into the kind of woman Jarod needs. He deserves someone who believes in his love without question.

“I’ve questioned everything, doubted everything. Who would want me for a wife?”

“Now you’re being too hard on yourself,” her mother asserted. “He’s no ordinary man. Just knowing he’s an ex-priest would cause any woman to be concerned that he might yearn for his old life one day. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“But don’t you see?” she cried. “I failed him at the first opportunity to show him I trusted him.”

Her dad patted the sofa so she would sit down next to him. “Tell us what happened.”

Sydney didn’t need any encouragement to bear her soul. “So you see, he hates me now.”

“I doubt that, honey. Any man who loved you enough to leave the priesthood couldn’t possibly hate you. But with his pride involved, I imagine he needs time to cool off.”

She blinked. “His pride?”

“Of course. It hurt him that you didn’t believe in him. But that’s because this is all so new to him.”

“Your father’s right, Sydney. He’s used to people trusting him with their deepest secrets and fears. But you’re not people. You’re the woman he loves. That puts you in a special category.

“What you two need is time. After all, he came right from the parish to ask you to marry him. It isn’t as if you had a long courtship.”

“We had nine months—”

Her father shook his head. “That was no courtship. Neither of you knew anything except the most superficial things about each other. I’m not ruling out the strong physical attraction, but there’s more to love than that.”

“I know.”

“You sound dead on your feet. I’ll bring in your bags while you get ready for bed.”

“Thanks.”

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