40. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Layne
Lord, where are You? I need You. Please!
Curled up in Keaton’s bed, I prayed over and over for the pain to stop. Usually when it was as excruciating as it was now, I could turn to God, and though He didn’t take the pain away, He let me feel His presence in a way I had never before this illness.
Not this time. Actually, not once since the massive crash two weeks ago. But I wasn’t willing to let go of hope. Nothing and no one could help me and make this suffering stop. Only God could. And He chose not to. He didn’t answer my cries, didn’t allow me to feel His presence. Yet I knew He was right here with me. God Almighty wasn’t a feeling or the absence of pain; His presence and goodness were an irrefutable fact.
I was never alone.
I really am a gold digger now, Jesus. I can’t do anything for Keaton anymore. I was useless. No, not useless. I was a burden. Somebody else had to cook for me, clean for me, do my laundry . . . And I couldn’t do anything for them in return.
Outside, an engine rumbled closer in the darkness. This had to be Keaton. Sure enough he stuck his head into the room a moment later. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Despite the sensory overload his presence hit me with, I couldn’t help the smile. Falling asleep while cocooned by bedsheets smelling of him was comforting, but having him here in person exceeded everything.
“How are you feeling?” He quietly moved closer and squatted next to the bed. The soft glow coming from the headboard highlighted dark circles under his eyes. The five-o’clock shadow dusting his jaw was very out of character, too, like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.
“Been better,” I said.
“Which means you’re feeling like crap.”
I replied with a silent smile. “You? You look rough.”
“First you tell me what’s going on inside of you.” He reached for my hand, his warm touch searing for my body, soothing for my soul.
“I’m in a lot of pain and my brain feels like it’s about to explode.” I needed a moment before I could continue. Talking was extremely exhausting. “I listened to an audiobook for ten minutes, but it was too much.”
“What hurts?”
I grunted. “Everything. Muscles, bones, head.”
“And mentally?”
My stomach did a little flip. That he always asked meant the world to me. He really cared—I could read just how much he did in those captivating blue eyes of his. How many people knew this side of him? The caring, protective Keaton?
“Today was hard,” I admitted. “I asked God to finally take me home. Dramatic, I know.” The chuckle I meant to emit came out as a huff. An unwelcomed tear broke free.
Keaton reached out and brushed it away. His eyes took on a glassy hue, then a tear of his own trailed down his cheek.
“Hey.” I squeezed his hand. “Why are you crying? That’s my job.”
He blinked, as if just now realizing that he was. His jaw flexed. “I hate seeing you suffer, Layne.”
“I’ll live.” I gave him a small smile, hoping it would ease his nerves.
Keaton must’ve noticed that my tongue was dragging more with every word, because he stood. “You need to rest.”
“Stay,” I blurted louder than I should’ve been able to. I didn’t want him to leave, no matter how exhausted and in how much pain I was. I needed him.
Those blues took me in, then he walked to the other side of the bed and lay down behind me. I turned so I could look at him.
“I wish I could hold you in my arms right now.” His voice was low. Thick with emotion.
“Me too,” I whispered. The longing for the comfort he had to offer seared a hole into my heart. This wasn’t fair.
Several beats passed as we lay there, taking and breathing each other in. Although we weren’t touching, this moment felt more intimate than anything that had transpired between us before.
My gaze flickered to his right hand. It was bandaged, a crimson spot at the back contrasting the white fabric. Not able to muster the strength to speak, I pointed at it.
Keaton looked down, then met my eyes again. “It’s nothing.”
I levelled a mock-glare at him. You know the rules about being honest.
The right side of his mouth curved up as he huffed. “All right, all right. I lost it. Sent my fist through a glass box to retrieve the baseball bat in it and took that to the glass cabinet holding my MLB collection.”
I blinked. Frowned. Why?
“Because I can’t help you.” His expression darkened. “I’m stupid rich, but all the money I’m sitting on is worthless. Heck, no amount of money on this rotten planet will make a change because there’s no freakin’ cure or even treatment available.”
Air backed into my throat. He was furious on my behalf? So furious that he’d destroyed his beloved MLB collection?
I rolled onto my back and tugged up my T-shirt to reveal the tattoo on my ribs.
Keaton leaned in to get a better look in the dim light. “ The Lord is with you, mighty warrior. ”
Nodding, I pulled the T-shirt back down and faced him again.
“Is He, though?” Keaton all but growled. “Why does He allow you to suffer like that? Hm?” Working his jaw, he sat. “We shouldn’t talk about this now. Not talk at all. You need to rest.”
I did. But I couldn’t pass up this opportunity. “God gives us what we need, not what we want.” I paused, mustering the bit of energy I had left. “What we need is Him, and since having this illness, I’m closer to Him than ever before.”
“He’s God. He can draw you closer without pushing you to the edge of your grave.”
“When we’re healthy, we don’t need a doctor. Same with God. Only when we’re doing bad and nothing and no one can help us do we realize just how much we need Him. Of course He could simply force us to seek His closeness, but who wants that? Who wants forced love?” The speech absolutely battered me, and I closed my eyes. Pain flared. Crap, I’d overdone it.
Keaton shifted next to me. “We’ll talk about this another time.” He lightly squeezed my hand, then got out of the bed. “Sweet dreams, Layne.” With that, he turned off the lights and slipped out of the room.
The vacancy he left on the mattress next to me seeped into my soul like ice water, leaving a stinging ache. A taste of what awaited me when we finalized the divorce.
I closed my eyes. I don’t want to lose him, Jesus, but if that’s Your will, I’ll accept it. I do have one request, though. Please soften his heart toward You.
Maybe then mine would break a little less when the time came to say goodbye.