16
I wake up feeling like I had the best sleep of my life. I slept so hard, so thorough, so deeply last night, even when I tried to wake up earlier, it was impossible, or at least that’s how it felt.
When I check my phone, I see I have missed calls from Aaliyah. Three of them.
Oh no.
Getting up to empty my bladder, I then wash my face and brush my teeth, then sit back on my bed.
Calling Sister Aaliyah back, I wonder what she wants. She did say she had to talk to me about something, maybe this is the conversation.
“Hello? Brother King?” she answers, sounding as if she’s been waiting a long time and is ready to take on more of the day.
“Yeah. I’m sorry I missed your calls.”
“No, that’s okay! I figured you were sleeping, ha. Actually, I would like to talk to you. Do you have time right now?” she asks enthusiastically.
“Do you mean… in person?”
“Yeah,” she replies. “We can meet at the park if you’d like.”
Now my curiosity is piqued. “Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes,” I reply.
About 25 minutes later, I spot Sister Aaliyah stepping out of her car. Or maybe it’s a relative’s car she borrowed. She did say some time ago she didn’t own one.
She smiles sweetly at me, holding her wrist in front of her body and letting it hang down loosely as she walks, the same gentle, almost dainty way she always moves when she feels a little shy.
Walking up to her, my smile grows wider. I open my arms, and she does the same. We embrace slowly, holding the hug for a moment.
It feels good to see her. She looks pretty in jeans and a bright yellow jacket, strange to see her out of her usual dresses, but it suits her.
We small talk a little bit, her asking me how I’ve been, me doing the same, until of course, as it always does, the conversation quickly lands on God and His goodness.
Only this time I’m not excited. The guilt that plagued me yesterday rears its ugly head. I can’t even enjoy talking about God because of what I did.
But I can’t tell Sister Aaliyah either. She would be so disappointed in me, probably never want to speak to me again.
As we’re walking through the park, we reach a bench, and the conversation flows quite easily from her end. Whenever I do talk about God’s goodness, I feel fake and hypocritical.
“…but He got me through it,” she says.
“I knew that He would. You passed all your other tests so far. You’ve come this far… was there ever a doubt?” I flash her a grin.
“There should have been no doubt, you’re right.” Her eyes sparkle as she displays all her pretty white teeth.
She asks me if I’m really okay after everything.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ve been great,” I reply.
There’s a little bit of silence. She sits down on the concrete bench, and I do the same.
“Look… I wanted to tell you for a very long time that… I really value our friendship,” she says, seeming nervous.
Why is she nervous?
She simpers lightly before taking a breath. “I was thinking about God, and I was reading a Scripture—Philippians 2:2, ‘Fulfil ye my joy, that ye be likeminded, having the same love, being of one accord, of one mind.’ That’s why with you my friendship is so important.”
“I value our friendship too,” I smile back.
She looks shy. “Hypothetically… just hypothetically,” she says, holding up a hand for me to wait before I say anything, then lowering it again. “Do you… think we would be a good match for each other?”
My heart beats begin pelting like hail against a metal roof.
“As what?” I ask just to make sure I understand what she’s asking me.
“As a couple,” she answers.
My throat feels constricted as I swallow. “Heh, no. I’m nowhere near on your level of spirituality,” I answer honestly.
And if she only knew, especially now.
Even before, a godly woman like Sister Aaliyah is leagues beyond me. I know God doesn’t see us that way, but I really don’t think I would be a good match for her.
Of course I would choose her as a wife had I not made my vow to God, but… it would almost be unfair to her if we were to be put together, even if she chose that.
“You’d be surprised, King. And I think it’s very humble that you don’t see yourself that highly.”
“Well… it’s true,” I answer. “For you, God would send you a David. Or a Job.”
“Haha, and you don’t see yourself as any of those?” she questions.
“No. Not close,” I say honestly.
“Well, God has a habit of putting people together. I know that from experience that he will send the right person in your life… put them in your way. It’s just, in this hypothetical, you and I work so well together as friends already. The chemistry is great,” she chuckles.
A chuckle of my own escapes through my nose. “We’re great as friends. And I’m honored to be yours.”
“I’m honored to be your friend too,” she says, nudging me playfully, something she looks shy doing because she’s not used to it.
Smiling back, I nudge her as well.