2. Time for an Obsessive Workout Routine
CHAPTER TWO
TIME FOR AN OBSESSIVE WORKOUT ROUTINE
AURORA
R un.
Run in the woods.
Tears filled my eyes at the torturous refrain that made no sense.
Maybe it was some residual brain injury from my accident that’d grown worse.
Maybe it was Satan’s curse doing me in.
Or maybe the solitude had finally gotten to me, and I was losing my mind.
Whatever it was, I hoped it would hurry and finish the job. I couldn’t take it any longer.
It’d been three days since I’d known peace. Three long, loud days.
Like a cruel twist of fate, Ryan’s sermon had ended, and the bizarre thoughts of running had started on a continuous loop until I was out of the patience he’d just preached about. The words wouldn’t stop.
Ever .
Even my dreams were haunted by them. I’d started taking double the dose of both of the sleep aids Ryan had gotten me from a doctor in the congregation, but the words still broke through.
I’d tried obeying. I’d run on the treadmill. I’d run outside the house. I’d even convinced Ryan to take me for a run on a trail that bordered some woods nearby. All that’d accomplished was bringing back the memories of waking up scared and alone after my accident, with no memory of who I was.
None of it was enough for the demand in my head. It just continued to grow louder and more frantic until I wanted to rip my hair out.
After another mostly sleepless night, I glared at my mismatched eyes in the bathroom mirror. I clutched the sink and fought the urge to stab something into my ears. It wouldn’t do any good since the insane thoughts were in my head, but I was tempted to try.
Anything for some quiet.
I closed my lids and hung my head, inhaling deeply.
Run.
Woods.
Run.
Woods.
Email.
My lids popped open at the new addition, and my head shot up.
Email. Email. Email.
Emailemailemailemail.
Runrunrunrun.
I rushed from the room, nearly slipping on the polished floor in my hurry to get to Ryan’s office. It took everything in me to stop and knock first.
“Come in,” he called, and I practically threw the door open. His flash of irritation was quickly replaced with pure disgust as his lip curled. “Your eyes .”
In the beginning, he used to tell me how much he loved the unusualness of my heterochromia. He’d made me feel like it was something desirable. That it made me special. When we’d left Arkansas, he’d gotten me brown contacts to wear around other people so my distinct eyes didn’t draw too much attention.
Somewhere along the way, all of that had changed. The contacts became for daily use, no matter what. Like my eyes were something to be ashamed of.
Repulsed by.
“But—” I started as I closed my lids so he wouldn’t have to see them, but that wasn’t enough.
“Aurora.”
At the warning in his tone, a surprising amount of frustration filled my chest and threatened to rumble out, but I swallowed it down.
Choked on it.
His ire wouldn’t have been enough to stop me, but my reaction to it was. I never got upset like that.
I must really be exhausted.
Internally shaking my head at myself, I turned and ran back to the bathroom, nearly stabbing my eyeballs out as I rushed to put in my contacts with shaking hands.
When I returned, Ryan didn’t acknowledge me. And for the first time ever, I didn’t care. I couldn’t even force myself to. I was aware that I was being disrespectful and disobedient, but it didn’t matter.
I had more important things to focus on.
Moving next to the desk, I grabbed the small laptop from the shelf. Electronic devices were a distraction from the gifts of everyday life, so I didn’t have a cell, tablet, or anything else. It was all I had access to—and that was only when Ryan unlocked it for me. I used it to keep his schedule, review his emails, and a million other menial tasks that were below him. Basically, everything that kept his life organized. I set it on the very edge of his desk and excitedly opened it, my fingers still trembling as I turned it for him to unlock.
Curiosity must’ve overridden his desire to freeze me out and punish me for not wearing my contacts because he rolled his chair closer and pressed his finger to the scanner. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, hoping my brain wasn’t messing with me. If all that waited were spam emails offering a discount on male enhancement pills, advertising the availability of hot singles in the area, or promising a large inheritance from a deceased mystery relative—a scam I’d once almost fell for out of desperation to learn about any family I had—Ryan would be annoyed.
More than that, it would be proof that my curse was getting worse. That it wasn’t going away as I’d hope but was instead finding new ways to torture me for whatever sin I couldn’t remember committing.
Whatever horrendous act I’d done to cost me my memories and earn me the hellish punishment.
My heart slammed in my chest, and my thoughts raced with possibilities of what had my brain so worked up—with a constant refrain of email and run alternating in the background, of course.
I knew better than to have even the tiniest sliver of hope that the email held some clue to my past. I’d long ago given up on that. As Ryan often said, my focus needed to be on my future, not my past.
The fate of my soul depended on it.
I scrolled the packed inbox, scanning subject lines as I went, but it was just Faith Connections communications. And all of it was the usual stuff, nothing attention-grabbing.
Come on.
Come on.
Do not do this to me, curse.
Embarrassment heated my cheeks as fear and disappointment swirled in my chest. Thankfully, I hadn’t said anything to Ryan that I would need to walk back, but that still might not matter. Not when I hadn’t given him anything for his upcoming sermon.
I need to think of an excuse.
Quickly, or he’s going to ? —
This one.
This.
This.
Thisthisthis.
I clicked the email that lit the mental flare and skimmed it before going to the beginning again.
“Well?” Ryan snapped, aggravated that I’d ignored him.
I turned my smiling face from the screen to him before turning said screen also. “It’s an invitation to guest pastor across the New England area.”
He leaned closer to read the email that laid out the proposed tour. They even called it that, like he was a rock star.
Rhode Island.
Massachusetts.
New Hampshire.
And Maine —a place that was firing off sparklers in my head.
Beacon of Absolution wanted Ryan to speak at the largest of their churches in each state. Not just a virtual sermon that they showed, but an in-person appearance. They also wanted him to spend time at each location, meeting with their leadership and helping to strengthen their community.
And it was all thanks to the sermon on patience that I’d told him to stream. It’d landed on the correct screens, and something big was going to come from it.
Something massive .
I didn’t see that part in a vision. I just knew it in my bones.
“Do you see this?” Ryan scrubbed his palm across his eyes like he couldn’t believe it himself. “They want to fly me out first class. And look at these hotel rooms they’ll put me up in. And this stipend I would get.”
I didn’t flinch at his use of I and me . I was used to it.
He closed my laptop before standing to grab his own. After sliding it into his bag, he started for the door. My breath caught when he stopped suddenly.
Please don’t ask if I’ve had any sermon visions.
When he turned around, I kept my expression carefully blank so my panic wouldn’t remind him that I’d let him down again.
It was for nothing since he barely glanced at me when he said, “I need to research this and seek guidance. I won’t be home until late.”
And then he was gone without a kiss, a hug, or even a thank-you.
I knew when he returned, he would undoubtedly smell of another woman, but that didn’t matter.
I opened my laptop back up. My smile grew when I saw it hadn’t been closed long enough to lock. Bringing up the browser, I started researching Maine.
What’s here that’s making my chest feel so full?
“ Because isn’t answer enough.”
At Ryan’s repeated response, it wasn’t frustration that brewed in my chest.
It was anger.
I felt guilty at the surge of emotion, but that did nothing to lessen it.
Ryan always pressed me for visions. It was to help me, but it was still a lot of pressure—especially when his disappointment and the prayer room loomed over my head if I failed. Yet he didn’t want to listen when I had a vision that slightly inconvenienced him.
I’d been the one to tell him to stream the sermon that’d earned the invite. Even with only one week’s notice, I’d arranged everything for the trip. I’d booked the house sitter, cleaning service, pool cleaner, and gardener. I’d packed the suitcases right down to his lucky boxers. All he’d had to do was tell Beacon of Absolution that our trip needed to start in Portland, Maine—not Salem like they’d set.
But he hadn’t.
He hadn’t even tried .
“But that is all I have,” I explained again. “We need to go to Maine first. I don’t know why.”
It wasn’t just that I’d become preoccupied with the state, though I totally had. I’d never been there—that I knew of, at least—but I couldn’t stop obsessing over it. The snow. The trees. The everything . It had replaced all my bizarre urges to run. And unlike those, these repetitive thoughts filled me with peace.
My visions said I had to go there first. The specifics were hazy, but something important was going to happen.
I just needed Ryan to listen.
“That’s not the schedule they set,” he gritted out. “I already had to ask for you to be included. I can’t make them rearrange everything the day before we leave.”
“It’s not rearranging everything. It’s one switch. And if you would’ve talked to them when I?—”
“Enough, Aurora.”
“No, this is impo?—”
“I said enough !” he roared in my face.
Ryan rarely raised his voice, much less yelled like that. It should’ve been enough to stop me.
It wasn’t.
My temper snapped, and I shouted right back, “I’m not going?—”
That time when he interrupted me, it wasn’t with a harshly shouted order.
It was with the back of his hand slapping sharply across my cheek.
The painful sting spread quickly, warming my skin as tears pricked my eyes. My bottom lip pulsed, and blood dripped down my chin.
But I didn’t swipe at the tears or the blood.
I didn’t speak.
I didn’t move.
I wasn’t even sure I breathed as my wide eyes stared at Ryan.
The only man I’d ever loved. The only person I’d ever trusted .
Regret mixed with the anger in his own brown eyes, and he took a step closer. I braced, ready to fight when he inevitably tried to force me into the prayer room.
But he didn’t touch me.
Abruptly changing paths, he stormed from the house, slamming the door behind him.
The mattress dipped behind me, but I didn’t react. I kept my body loose and my breaths even as I pretended to be asleep.
Because the real thing hadn’t happened. Even with an extra dosage of meds, I was wide-awake.
After Ryan took off earlier, I’d sat in my shock for longer than I cared to admit. I wasn’t sure what I was more surprised by.
That he’d hit me.
That I’d been insubordinate.
Or the sinful feeling of pride that had filled me at my defiance.
Something was changing inside me, and I wasn’t sure it was a good thing. It was like the curse had seeped from my visions to poison my brain. My very being.
Memories of Pastor Gideon’s sermons had haunted me all day until phantom burning spread across my chest.
Like the fires of Hell reaching out for me.
The fear of consequences had been far worse than the entire fight with Ryan.
I’d tried to pray for forgiveness. I’d tried to let the guilt swallow me in penance. I’d tried to beg God to return me to the status quo.
The place where I felt only gratitude and… nothing.
But my heart hadn’t been in it. My attention hadn’t, either. In the middle of my most fervent prayers, my thoughts had still drifted to Maine and what could be there.
It was yet another sign my curse was growing.
I’d been dreading Ryan’s return. I’d assumed he would wake me to continue said fight. Or maybe just drag me from bed into the prayer room—something I wouldn’t fight.
Instead, he stretched out behind me. His hand on my shoulder and his voice were both gentle as he rolled me onto my back. “Aurora.”
I pretended to wake, blinking up at him in the dim bedside light, though I remained silent.
“It took a lot of work on my part, but the itinerary is switched. We fly to Maine. The representative from Beacon won’t be there to meet us, though. He can’t get in until later.”
Maine .
Mainemainemaine.
That intoxicating feeling of… rightness settled over me. I couldn’t even explain it, other than I wanted more of it. Despite our argument earlier, I would’ve kissed Ryan for finally listening to me and—inadvertently—gifting me that fullness I so rarely felt in my chest.
It wasn’t my split lip that stopped me.
It was the strong scent of another woman.
I wasn’t surprised. What was unexpected, however, was how little it hurt. There was no painful jealousy or heart-wrenching inadequacy. It just was what it was.
His mouth still tipped at my happiness, and for a moment, he looked like the old Ryan. The one who stared at me with desire when he thought no one else was watching. Who pulled me into darkened rooms or secluded corners because he had to kiss me, risk be damned.
But he wasn’t that man anymore.
And I wasn’t the same woman, no matter how desperately I prayed to be.
His hand hovered over my chest, and I wondered if he’d touch me.
I prayed he wouldn’t.
His lip sneered, seeming to remember what marred my skin under that spot. When he used to touch me, he’d had the decency to hide his disgust behind gifts of nighties that covered my chest. Even in the dark, he’d never touched or kissed my breasts.
And then he never touched any of me, period.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say there was remorse in his expression. His voice stayed just as soft as when he’d said my name. “Everything I do, Aurora, is for God and for you. To protect you in my service of Him.”
It wasn’t an apology—I would never get one of those—but it was better than nothing.
“I know. I appreciate all you do.”
But even as I said the words…
I knew I didn’t mean them.