Chapter 71
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Austin and I try to sneak out of the house after pizza at the Talbots’, but our covert op is anything but.
Kit’s brothers toss catcalls at Austin. Then Mia dares a loud “hand check!”—so wildly over the line that everyone freezes …
before bursting into laughter. Like Mia didn’t just cannonball into the trauma pool.
Honestly? It’s kind of perfect. The energy is infectious, the forgiveness is real. But also, I’m still catching up.
Safely out the front door, we wander down the sidewalk in Kit’s neighborhood.
It’s magical out here. The setting sun casts a golden glow.
Spruce branches bow under piles of snow.
A crisp breeze dances through bare trees.
I get it now—why Kit loves home so much, even apart from her bizarrely happy family.
Austin’s giant bear paw hangs loose at his side.
Would it feel the same as before? I bet it’s still warm in the chill.
Rough and gentle and more comforting than ever.
I run through it all again—relationships are never perfectly safe, and I never liked safe anyway.
I believe him. I really think I can trust him.
Apparently needing no further reassurance, my hand lurches out for his.
His engulfs mine instantly, greedy and confident. Joy leaches into my bloodstream.
“We have a lot to talk through, Sparky.”
I break into a grin at my long-lost nickname.
Please help. Make sure I say what needs to be said. Nothing more, nothing less.
“I’ll start,” I say.
“Okay, hit me.”
I almost smack his arm, but it’s too soon for play hits. Too much still unsaid.
“You have a weary voice. Tons of voices, actually, but the weary one hurt to hear.”
“Voices?”
“Playful is your default. Used to be.” I send a sad smile. “There’s also pensive. Affectionate-slash-sultry—big fan of that one. Football voice. Stern voice.” I pause to chuckle at his reaction.
He just stares, like I’ve recited his shoe size and he’s never checked the label.
“Happy-at-home voice. And the weary voice—that one was my fault. I see that, and I have a plan.”
“That you were paying attention like that? My head is getting dangerously big again. But Soph, the weary voice wasn’t your fault.”
“It’s still my turn, mister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m ready to make sacrifices to be with you,” I continue. “We’re so different, but we can compromise. So I can get the new I want and you can get the rest you need. I love you too much to let you sacrifice everything for me again. It’s a no for me, and it’s how we can keep the weary voice away.”
“I love you too.” He squeezes my hand—a long, anchoring squeeze that says a hundred things at once.
Then he blows out a breath. “I wanna push back on that compromise word, but you’re not wrong about part of it—we are different.
But the weary voice was all me. Trying to please everyone, burning the candle at both ends, not letting God pick what mattered most. I can’t be the one deciding how I spend my time anymore.
That’s what blew up in my face. And it makes sense.
I was over here acting like I needed less rest and quiet than Jesus.
” A wry smile. “He’ll have to be the one to give you everything.
And I’ll be praying hard he does. But whenever I get to be the one he uses, I’m so there. Every time.”
I melt into the sidewalk creases. Who is this man?
You didn’t just give me back Austin—you gave me a stronger, self-aware Austin?
Impulse tells me to wrap him up in a hug and call it, but I don’t. More needs to be said. Still, a Mario Kart ding sounds—we made it through the first lap.
“Listen,” I start. “I’m going to say some things to you, but then I don’t want to hear about them again. Understand?”
He eyes me. “Not really, but go ahead.”
“That time Lily showed up in your room, you practically teleported to my door. And I know you called Kit out when she confused Levi half to death. You fuss at me when I criticize myself. All of that proves that you’re capable of confrontation when it matters.
” I wait for his nod. “But too many times, you refused to use your words.” A Chelsea phrase.
“Like tapas night. You should have said no. And then at your house and after you dumped me—”
“I didn’t dump you,” he interrupts, horrified.
“Uh. That was a pretty textbook dumping.”
“I could never dump you. I pushed you away. For your own good.”
“Let’s press pause on the fatalistic worldview subject.”
He clamps his mouth shut, frown still present.
“It’s not okay that you ghosted me.” My voice grows smaller.
“I can’t handle that kind of fighting. At home, the loud fights were awful, but the silence meant it was over forever.
” Brokenly, I try to make him see. “Austin. I can’t do that again.
” I brace myself. If he can’t hear this, what are we even doing here?
But he’s pale, eyes wrecked. “You’re right. About all of it. Soph, I …” He swallows. “I know I’ll still make mistakes. But I promise I’ll talk things out with you. I won’t choose for you again. I see how wrong and unfair that was now. I’m so sorry.”
I let out a breath. “Now. I forgive you. For all of it. Okay?”
His eyes shift.
Ah yes. Accepting forgiveness—the hard part for him.
“Anything else before we put it to rest forever?” When he avoids my gaze, I tug his hand. “I will not have you groveling about it anymore.”
The tiniest smile plays at his cheeks. “I love it when you’re feisty.
” It fades. “I more than learned my lesson. I hate that I hurt you. I hate that I didn’t protect you, especially if you were Dark and Twisty that day.
I just want you to know how desperate I am to be better.
That I’m praying about it all the time.”
I catch his gaze and clasp my hands together. “I’m blowing it up now.” And I fling them apart with a ridiculous explosion noise.
His eyes fill. “Thank you,” he whispers.
He grows an inch. The sweetest, tenderest smile.
But then with a big breath and sidelong glance, he dials the mood back to Ultra Serious. “You have a lot of power over me, Soph.”
Help me with this. Show him how sorry I am.
I open my mouth for my apology monologue—but he keeps talking.
“I’m putting myself back in your hands because I trust you,” he says.
I jerk back to him. Just like that? “You did everything for me,” I argue. “You sent me the ‘You Are My One Safe Place’ song, and I nuked it.”
Those eyes. So vulnerable they could destroy me. “I trust you. Will you be my one safe place again?”
I can’t speak, so I give a nod.
“Anything else before I explode this one too? I don’t want it hanging over you for another minute.”
“I’m so sorry.” My voice trembles. “Never again.”
“I know.” His voice is thick. “It’s going away now.” And he imitates my explosion.
And just like that … it’s gone.
“Can I?” I reach for him.
“Please.” He yanks me over, squeezes me tight against his hoodie. A man-bear hug. I bury my face in his neck and breathe him in. That perfect cocktail of musky firewood and fresh air and goodness.
He lifts a hand but stops. “Can I touch your face?”
I bob my head.
His giant paw encases my cheek, my jaw, my head. “I missed you so much.” His thumb brushes my temple, trails into my hair. “I was an embarrassment to humanity.”
My eyes roll back in my head. I’m Belle, leaning into Beast’s giant hand. “Mia called you a stain on your couch.”
He huffs a laugh.
“It wasn’t just that though,” I say. “We rubbed against the grain of the universe.”
“Yeah. Nasty splinters.”
His other hand rises, and I fall somewhere south of coherent.
“But … somehow … he used the sin,” he says.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I needed the last month—the soul-crushing fallout of losing you.
I needed to see. To break down. Start over.
So I don’t make the same mistakes again.
” He presses a kiss to my forehead, lingering.
“No earning, God,” he prays, voice barely holding. “Just with you. And … God, please …”
You brought him back to me.
Better than ever.
Austin
Song of the day
“Hell on the Heart” by Eric Church