19. Pearl Davis
19
Pearl Davis
I’m standing alone under the chilly night sky. I’m more captivated by the stars than by the idea of another camera flash blinding me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind taking a few pictures, but after a handful of decent shots, my motivation tends to dwindle. Maybe it’s because I don’t have any social media accounts to share them on.
The only destination for my photos is a single picture attached to the occasional email to Beatrice and Fynn.
I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I had brought a cardigan. Then again, I hadn’t planned anything else after the late lunch with Zane. I’m so glad Robyn tagged along; I don’t think I could handle being alone with Zane. His gaze threatens to enthrall me, and his smile leaves me breathless. The genuine interest he shows in me only adds to my discomfort around him. I’m just a girl in search of her soulmate—I don’t need this bait-and-switch in my life. I need to push him out somehow .
A voice interrupts my thoughts, and I instinctively jerk, turning to see Zane approaching.
Not him and me. Outside. Together. Alone.
“Sweet P, isn’t it too cold to be out here?” he asks me while closing the distance between us.
“I just needed some air,” I reply curtly, trying to steady my racing heart. Why does he have to be caring too.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” He removes his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. I slip my arms into the sleeves and feel myself engulfed in his intoxicating scent of spices and citrus. I wish I could bottle it up to keep it close forever.
When I meet his gaze, I see genuine concern impressed across his features.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just...” he pauses, exhaling slowly. “I accidentally overheard you and Robyn at the restaurant, mentioning Duke breaking your heart. I just want to make sure being here and celebrating him and Kate isn’t too hard on you.”
The dimness of the outside lights prevents me from getting lost in Zane’s eyes, but I can still see him clearly enough to read the sincerity in his gaze.
Despite being here, I haven’t thought about Duke at all. I can happily confirm I’ve finally moved on. “I’m really over it. We never dated or anything. I just had a big crush on him.”
“Good to know. You deserve better than Duke.”
I frown. “You don’t even know the guy or me. What makes you say that? ”
“The few words we spoke today told me everything I need to know about him. And about you,” he says, his lopsided grin a delightful ache. “I’ve picked up on more than you realize about you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“Are you always eavesdropping?”
His serious expression softens into a smile.
“This is the second time you’ve done it. I just need to know if it’s a recurring habit of yours.”
“Ha ha, honestly, I’ve never been one to pry into others’ affairs. But the way I grew up made me someone who is always hyper-aware of my surroundings. That includes picking up on conversations I probably shouldn’t be privy to.”
“How did you grow up?” I know it’s a loaded question, one that would be fine in my professional setting. But with Zane, I shouldn’t be asking this. I should be showing him the exit door out of my life.
“My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad is an alcoholic who has spent the last ten years in jail. He’ll be released next month. You can imagine how it was growing up in those circumstances,” Zane shares, surprising me with his candor. My heart aches with every word he just said.
His expression mirrors the surprise I feel. Was he also not planning to share this much?
At least I didn’t know my parents. I knew they had given me up and were probably addicts of one kind or another. But Zane’s story... A fat tear rolls down my cheek, and when he reaches to wipe it away, a shockwave of tingling travels down my neck, causing a shiver to ripple through my core.
“I’m sorry. I actually have no idea why I just told you all that. I never talk about it.” He turns away, and I have to fight the urge not to gently turn his face back toward me. I want him to know how deeply sorry I am for what he went through, and if there’s any way I may have inadvertently triggered painful memories for him, I hope he can find it in his heart to forgive me.
“Don’t be sorry. Talking about your pain is good. I just...I know it’s not fair to judge a book by its cover, but this…I couldn’t have imagined. I’m really sorry to hear that.”
He turns his face toward me again, his expression now devoid of any discernible emotion.
“It’s fine. Life can be cruel. So what about you? Let me guess. Had a great childhood? Grew up in a home with loving parents and boundless joy?”
“Why is that your guess?”
“The way you carry yourself. You’re kind, and it’s like you can’t frown. Even when you do, it’s another one of your adorable expressions. And you care about people. That’s why I call you Sweet P,” he says, and at the mention of “adorable expressions” and the nickname he gave me, my heart quickens.
I do my best to consider everyone, but I wonder how he’s been able to see that in me, especially when I’ve been trying to keep my distance from him.
“We can’t do this, Zane. ”
“What?” he says, suddenly alarmed. “What can’t we do?”
“This,” I say, gesturing between us with my hand, “I’m not the girl for you.”
He blesses me with his blinding smile, clearly playing the fool. “We’re just having a conversation. As friends. Remember?”
“You really expect me to buy into the ‘just friends’ act?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. The gesture sends another gentle drift of his jacket’s scent around me, reminding me that I’m wearing it. Why does he have to smell so irresistible?
“Why not?”
“This is why not,” I say, pointing directly at his eyes. “Friends don’t give me that look.”
“You have a problem with my eyes?”
“It’s the way you look at me. That’s not the same look you gave Robyn or anyone else here.”
He lifts his arms up in surrender. “I have no idea what you are talking about. I really want to get to know you. You seem different. I love that it doesn’t have to be about hockey between us.”
“I don’t believe that’s it. You’ve been looking at me like this since you spotted me the first time at Randy’s before our appointment,” I huff.
“Okay, you got me,” he admits with a sheepish look. “You’re beautiful. You caught my eye. I had no idea you were my therapist the first time I saw you at Randy’s. And when I finally got in your office, I thought you were looking at me the same exact way. I even thought you were a fan because of how flustered you seemed. It made me want to talk and see where it goes. But you’ve made it clear since then that you don’t want to explore the idea of us in a romantic capacity. But I still want you in my life. In any capacity. Except, obviously, as my therapist, because you’d never let me get close to you.”
His words, his smile, his gaze, his honesty—everything about him leaves me speechless. My heart races with a pace I can’t calm. How does someone as beautiful as him see any beauty in me?
“I never knew my parents,” I start, and notice his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I grew up in the foster care system. I wasn’t always kind. I was a kid who was mad at the world. I was rehomed too many times until, at thirteen, I landed in the home of angels.
“A couple named Beatrice and Fynn took me in. They introduced me to the gospel of Jesus Christ through the way they lived and loved. They cared for me until I left for college, and then they went to Asia for missionary work.”
He inches closer.
What’s he going to do? God, please, not this. I don’t know if I have the self-control needed to resist kissing him back.
Instead, he takes me into his arms and squeezes me gently, my head resting against his broad chest. His heartbeat has a rhythmic sound, and I feel like melting into this hug. The way he holds me makes me wonder why he feels for me. He’s clearly had it much worse.
He releases me, and I clear my throat before taking a few steps back. After the moment we just shared, I could definitely use some distance .
“I am so sorry for my assumption. I can’t believe you went through that.” His hand reaches for mine.
“Don’t be. Jesus turned my worst experiences into something so beautiful.”
“What are you talking about? What’s beautiful about parents leaving their own child for the government to raise?”
“My days of questioning my biological parents are behind me. My experiences helped me to see my need for Jesus. I had no sense of identity and felt like I didn’t belong to anyone. Discovering that God ed me through Jesus Christ healed my wounded heart. Now, what I’ve been through enables me to empathize deeply with the children I counsel. I know how I can pray for them even when they aren’t communicating well with me. I can easily approach them without judgment for their negative emotions and feelings because I’ve been there. My personal journey allows me to connect with them on a level that I wouldn’t have achieved otherwise.”
“I knew you were special,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
“What’s special is Jesus in me. Without him, I’m broken. We all are.”
He purses his lips. “I’ve never thought about religion that way.”
“It’s not religion I’m talking about. What Jesus died for on the cross wasn’t for me to adhere to a religious system. It was for me to have a personal relationship with God through Christ. That was the purpose of his ultimate sacrifice. ”
He shrugs and says, “I don’t even know what that means.”
“I didn’t either. But if you’re curious about what it means and how it could change your life, come to church next Sunday. We aren’t a large congregation; it’s mostly people you saw here today along with a few elderly people. I’ll even help you find a low-key seat and I’ll give you a signal at the end of the meeting so you can slip out before everyone else.”
“You’d do that for me?” Zane asks, running his hands through his wavy hair.
It’s a good question. The last time I invited a guy to church, my feelings were involved and things went sour.
If Zane also comes and finds his future wife in my church, I may never recover from this one.
“On second thought, we actually have an online service. I can send you the details.”
“All right, sure. Thanks,” he replies, with a mix of confusion and disappointment.
I take a deep breath. That was as close as I’ll come to repeating my Duke mistake .
Gesturing for Zane to head back inside, I hand him his jacket.
People have definitely noticed our absence. Not that they’d have noticed me missing, but everyone knows Zane is here, so they’re likely on the lookout for him and whoever he’s with.