Chapter 35
Morgan
Months pass and spring arrives. It’s April, and my memories of Jack feel more like sacred dreams.
I smile, pose, put on a show. Our new megachurch opened. Blake and I set our wedding date in November. It feels too close already.
Behind closed doors, I check Jack’s page every day. He rarely posts updates, but it’s the only way I feel a connection to him.
A painful yet comforting connection.
“Babes, you have to get out of this funk,” says Ingrid.
Daddy fired her long ago.
She got a new job at a Christian marketing firm. She loves it. I am endlessly grateful she landed on her feet. I am even more grateful she is still my friend.
I hold the phone to my ear and reply glumly.
“I’m trying to be happy.”
“But you miss Jack,” she tags on to my sentence.
“No!” I sit up straighter. “I don’t. I...” my words taper off.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I am not supposed to talk about him, but you are not getting better.” Her voice dips, soft. “Maybe you need closure.”
“I don’t,” I whisper.
“I think ya do. We should go see Jack,” she suggests, “Let’s go when I get off of work.”
“Funny.”
“I am serious. My girl can’t be mopey forever. I know you want to see him. At least to say whatever is on your heart or wish him luck.”
“That really works?”
“Mm-hm,” she replies. “It might help you move on. I miss seeing you smile. A real smile.”
My heart won’t respond. The ball of muscle doesn’t beat anymore. It died the day I walked away from Jack in that courtroom.
I try to make things work with Blake. We go on a date once a week.
We do everything right. We even kiss when he drops me off at home.
Every time, it feels like I am cheating on Jack.
Actually, Blake, too. Because the kiss never feels authentic.
They’re mechanical. He has to sense I am not into it, but Blake doesn’t complain. He must be a very patient man.
“What if seeing me hurts Jack?” I muse aloud.
“Time heals, or he may need closure, too. Heck, he may have a new girlfriend and will be happy for you.”
I grimace hard. I wish she didn’t say that. It isn’t fair for me to hope he hasn’t moved on.
So, I mumble into the phone. “Jack wants nothing to do with me.”
She growls. “Morgan. Stop. Jesus wants you to be grateful. Practice what you preach. Be grateful he is free, healthy, and hopefully, happy.”
An image flashes. Him with Claire or some other bombshell. Groping each other.
I’m selfish. I know it. And I don’t care.
“No,” I hiss. “I need to go eat something. I’ll talk to you later.”
It’s a lie.
Ingrid whines, but says she loves me and we end the call.
Not long after, I startle.
Ingrid appears at my office doorway wearing a mischievous smile.
I shoot to my feet, astonished she stepped into this church.
“What are you doing here?”
“Come on. I left work early. Let’s go before someone sees me and calls your a-hole dad.”
I hold myself and glance around. My voice cracks. “I can’t. I promised him I wouldn’t go anywhere without telling him. He would not approve.”
She grabs my hand and drags me out of my office. “This life you are living is not free will. It’s sacrilegious.”
She isn’t wrong. Nothing I do nowadays feels like it’s of my own free will.
I know I shouldn’t, but I am so dead inside, I don’t have the energy to fight her pull. I let her lead me like her prisoner.
As we slip out the back door, something catches in my peripheral.
Blake.
He says nothing, but his expression is fixed and discouraged. It knots my stomach. I don’t want to have secrets or disappoint him, but I can’t force it. Maybe Ingrid is right. I need closure before I can move on.
Maybe this is for more than myself.
My body is numb as I look out of the windshield at the center.
I cringe, feeling like this could be a dangerous and foolish mistake.
Gosh, if he gets mad seeing me, it’ll crush what’s left of my heart. This is so wrong to just show up unannounced.
Ingrid doesn’t seem concerned in the slightest. She’s already out of the car, purse over her shoulder, and striding fast.
I hurry after her.
A faint creak sounds as we walk through the old door.
It’s quiet.
“Bible study hour,” Ingrid whispers. “I checked the online schedule beforehand.” She gives a sly wink. “Come on.”
She leads the way till we come upon the activity room.
A long table is lined with round happy faces and Bibles in front of them. At the end of the table, Noel appears to lead the discussion. Beside him—
Jack.
Seeing that man steals my breath. I have to blink twice, trying to absorb the fact he is right there. Not some memory from a past life. My knees weaken and I brace the wall. Barely together, I partially hide in the hallway with Ingrid and listen, peeking from the back.
He appears bored.
Chance points his stubby finger at a page. “What does this say about special people like me?”
“Good question.” Noel, who looks older and broader, flips through his Bible.
He pulls at the roots of his hair as he turns another page. “Um... I know there is something.” After a minute, he glances at Jack. “Help?”
Jack softly groans, but forces himself to be involved. His voice is soft, gentler than I recognize.
“Alright, alright.” He shifts his gaze to Chance. “There’s a verse. Jeremiah 1:5. It says, ‘Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.’” He looks up at the ceiling, like the words are somewhere above him.
“I like that one,” he continues. “Because it means some people aren’t mistakes. They’re not late additions. They were thought about by God. Carefully.”
Chance’s face flushes. “I was?”
Jack nods. “People like you, Tommy, each and every one of you... you carry something good and rare. God’s saying he meant to make you. You belong.”
The group claps, their smiles tight and proud.
Chance points at himself. “I am good and rare.”
Warmth blooms from my chest. It’s adorable. I gape in shock, holding my hands over my dead heart.
Ingrid steps out of the shadows next to me, equally touched.
Our movement catches, and Jack’s blue eyes snap to me in the doorway. His face drains of all color. I don’t hear it, but I see the words as he mouths:
“Fuck me.”