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They were both still standing, awkwardly.
“Can I ... um ... give you a hug?”
“Yes, please.” Maybe they should skip dinner and go straight to Las Vegas.
He stepped toward her and moving slowly, pulled her into his embrace. The smell of him washed over her, and it was so familiar, it was like coming home to a dream house where everything was clean and put in its perfect place. She breathed him in and sank deeper into his body.This. This was enough to keep her from ever drinking again.
He let go of her and she stepped back. She didn’t know she’d cried until she saw the wet spot on his shirt. “Oh, uh, sorry.”
“What?”
She pointed with one hand and wiped at her eyes with the other. What was with all this crying lately? Her eye makeup was probably running wild.
“Oh, not a problem.”
She started to pull out her chair, but he hurried to grab it. “Here, let me get that for you.” His elbow smashed into hers, and they both laughed.
The distinct, familiar sound of his laughter locked into hers like two magnetic puzzle pieces. It had been too long since they’d laughed together.
She sat and watched him sit and then when she looked into his eyes, she got nervous again. She busied herself taking a sip from a very fancy water glass.
“Well, surprise!” He held his hands out to his side. “I’m your secret admirer.”
She grinned and let herself look at him. “I know. And thank you.”
He laughed. “What gave me away? Was it the wedding song?”
She nodded. “And the Rascal Flatts.”
His smile was contagious. She couldn’t stop grinning. “You look happy,” she said softly.
“I am. A lot has changed.” He leaned on the table. “We have a lot of catching up to do. But first, is that really when you figured it out? Or did you know before?”
She thought back. “No, I didn’t know before. I didn’t think you were the type to send me roses. And how did you even know about my favorite bookstore?”
His eyes widened a bit. “I didn’t. I just looked online for the closest Christian bookstore.”
“The closestChristianbookstore?” she repeated.
He nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, that’s one of the things we need to get caught up on ...” He gazed out at the ocean. “Feels so weird to say, especially to you, who knows all my deepest darkest secrets, but yeah, I have, uh, given my life to Jesus.” His eyes came back to hers. “I was so devastated after the divorce. I was so lonely, so depressed. And an oil customer invited me to church.” He chuckled. “And it is a pretty weird church, I think, but the people are so nice, and they sort of adopted me against my will. And about the third time that the gospel was explained to me, well, it sort of clicked, and I realized that it was real.” He ran a hand over his face. “Sorry, I’m talking too much.”
That was more words than he would have said to her in a week back when they were married. “No, I like it. I like it when you talk.”
His eyes locked with hers then, and she wanted so badly to kiss him that she nearly crawled across the table.
“So what about you? Church?”
She nodded. “Church. If you remember, I grew up in the church.”
“Oh, I remember.”
“Which means that all the mistakes that I’ve made, well, I should have known better.”
He chuckled.
She sucked in some air and the server approached, carrying a wine bottle. “Can I offer you some house red? It’s a lovely Cellardoor merlot made right in Lincolnville.”
Samantha kept waiting for Brent to interrupt, to say no, or to at least give her a judgmental look—but he did none of these things.
