Chapter 22 #2
He doesn’t say anything else. The water starts to boil, the whistling kettle filling the space between us.
“Are you alright?” he asks, his voice filled with worry even though he can’t seem to look at me.
“I’m fine.” I drop the tea bags into the mugs, watching it swirl as I add the boiling water. “It had to happen, Declan. I needed to face him at some point.”
When I glance up, he’s watching me, his jaw tight. He runs his hand over his mouth.
“And now you have.”
“Yes,” I say softly. “And I’m glad. It’s like I’ve been locked inside a room for a year, and now I finally get to go outside again.”
He nods, slow and careful, like he’s trying to figure something out without saying a word. I can feel the weight of whatever’s on his mind settling between us.
I hand him a mug anyway. “You sure you don’t want—”
He takes it before I finish. “Thanks,” he says, his fingers brushing against mine. His hand is warm, rough and it sends a spark running through me, reminding me of the kiss we shared before the game.
“So what did he say?” he asks.
I hesitate, not sure I want to go through everything again. “He apologized for what happened.”
His dark gaze narrows, anger filling his expression. “Just like that?”
I nod. There’s more of course. Explanations that I didn’t want, brought up memories and shared history that left an ache in my heart.
“I don’t care about the reasoning behind his actions. It’s in the past. I’m moving on.”
He lifts his gaze, the golden flecks in his eyes bright as he studies me. “So you’re done with Boqvist?”
I hold his gaze. “I’m done.”
Declan’s expression switches, like he’s challenging me. “He didn’t look done with you.”
“That’s his problem.”
“Is it?” he asks, a slight chuckle coming from him. “He’s here for you, Snowflake. What if he stays?”
I shrug. I haven’t thought that part through yet. If he stays, I’ll deal with it. What else am I going to do? Run? I’m not going to let him dictate my life any longer.
“Then he stays,” I answer simply.
He nods again, too quickly this time, like he’s agreeing even though he doesn’t believe me. He pushes off his seat, setting his mug down harder than necessary.
“What is it?” I press further. “Do you not believe me?”
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” he asks, letting out a mirthless laugh. “You’ve been running from the guy for a year, Avah. And now you want me to believe it wouldn’t matter if he decides to stay here?”
I frown, crossing my arms. “What are you trying to say?”
He huffs. “Nothing,” he says. “Forget it.”
But I can’t. There’s a look in his eyes I haven’t seen before. Something between fear and resignation. The same man who takes hits on the ice without flinching suddenly wants to retreat.
He walks to the window, bracing his arms on the frame as he looks out toward the street.
The tension in his shoulders are clear. Maybe this is about the comment Axel made.
He may have deflected Axel’s words about me attaching myself to someone else, but maybe it bothers him more than he’s letting on.
“Declan,” I say softly, wrapping my hands around the mug, fighting the urge to go over to him. “What he said in the hallway—”
“You don’t have to defend yourself, Snow,” he says, shaking his head, still not looking at me.
“I just don’t want you to think anything of it.”
“I’m not thinking anything,” he says, turning back to me with a sigh. “It’s just been a long day.”
He looks tired. Not physically…but rather emotionally. And perhaps even deeper.
I nod. “Yes. It has.”
We both stand there, unsure of how to close the gap that has somehow opened between us.
He takes a step toward me, and I meet him instinctively.
His hand finds the small of my back, firm and warm, pulling me into him.
His chest rises against mine, the familiar rhythm of his breathing calming something inside of me.
He sighs heavily, pressing a kiss in my hair.
“You did good today,” he murmurs. “Facing him. You did good, Snow.”
Something inside of me has definitely lifted. Not all the way…but there’s a call inside my heart. A call to pray.
And I know when I answer, the Axel chapter in my life will be dealt with.
Then I can fully step into what God has for me next.
I tilt my head up, meeting his gaze. “Today was a good day for both of us, Declan,” I whisper.
My gaze falls to his mouth before I can stop it, the memory of our kiss from earlier stirring butterflies in my stomach.
There were reporters watching us then…even if it felt real.
My hand finds his jaw, the roughness of his stubble grounding me.
He leans into my touch, eyes closing briefly, as if it’s the first peace he’s felt all day.
I rise onto my tiptoes, and kiss him.
It’s soft at first, testing his response to see if the kiss before the game was real or not. His lips are still, warm and unmoving against mine and for a second I start to worry that I imagined the moment we had.
But then something shifts, he exhales slowly, his hand moving up my spine, holding me steady. The touch sends shivers through me. He’s kissing me back, not hurried or desperate, but slow and with intent. He deepens the kiss just enough, like he’s trying to memorize the feel of me.
When he finally pulls back, my heart is racing. His gaze is dark, his thumb brushing against my cheek as he stays close, his breath mingling with mine. He rests his forehead against mine, the space between us charged.
“Get some sleep, Snow,” he says quietly, his voice rough and low.
I nod, not trusting myself to say something. Because there’s no chance I’ll sleep now. With the feeling of his kiss lingering against my lips, I head to the guest bedroom, hope blooming in my chest.
For the first time in a year I have hope for what’s to come, hope that maybe God is writing a new love story for me. One where I can move on from a hurtful past into a future that was meant for me all along.
* * *
After taking a shower, I pull on my pajamas and get into bed, settling in against the pillows. It’s comforting after the intense day I’ve had. The call to close my eyes and spend time in God’s presence is like a sharp tug inside my heart. I grab my Bible from the nightstand and open it.
From down the hall, I hear the click of Declan’s door, knowing he went to bed too. A soft smile tugs at my lips. This thing that’s happening between us might be strange and unexpected…but it has a warmth settling in my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time.
I open my Bible to Psalm 51, and my eyes trace over the words I’ve read so many times before.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
Hide your face from my sins, and blot out my iniquities,
Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a steadfast spirit within me.
Tears blur my vision from the rest of the Psalm. I look up, knowing that beyond the ceiling is a starry night sky, and beyond that…is the feet of my King as He sits on the throne, looking over all of us.
I picture him with His feet resting on a sea of glass, His eternal glory filling every corner of the universe, His light blinding and cleansing. Hebrews 4:16 echoes in my mind.
‘Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.’
I close my eyes and see myself kneeling at His feet in His throne room.
“Father, I haven’t been seeking You or spending time with You the way that I should have…
” I start, the words coming out in a whisper.
“After what happened with Axel…I guess I blamed You. I turned away because I was scared that You’d be angry with me for the choices I made.
Maybe I needed You to be angry, because I knew I wasn’t doing the right thing in Your eyes.
I’ve been angry at myself for a long time now and I didn’t want to face the disappointment.
But it’s been stealing my peace…and I can’t go on like this any more. ”
My eyes fill with tears, some of them spilling over my cheeks.
I wipe at them, as I try to claw the guilt from my heart and leave it at my Father’s feet.
I know He doesn’t want me to feel guilt or shame, but I do.
I want to do right by Him. I don’t want to excuse my actions under the guise of grace.
I’ve never believed that it works that way.
“I’ve made such a mess of the relationships in my life. But if someone can fix it, it’s You. Nobody else. You’re not a God of confusion, You won’t kick me when I’m down. You’ll help me up and point me in the right direction. You’ll redeem my past and You’ll bring me home.”
My entire relationship with Axel plays through my mind in quick succession—his laughter, our promises, and the pain I felt when I found out about his infidelity.
I’m crying for the part of me that believes with all my heart that there’s no such thing as divorce. I’ve always believed that people should fix things, not just walk away. I also believe that when two people come together in intimacy, they are bound together before the eyes of the Lord.
Now, I’ve done all those things.
“We bound ourselves to each other without You. We made decisions without You, and it ended up breaking our relationship. Father, I don’t want to hurt anymore. I ask that You cut the ties we made, I ask that You will cover us in the Blood of Jesus, that You will wash away our sin.”
One day I will have to stand before God and answer for the choices I made in life. But I also know that He loves me, that he’s a God of grace and mercy. My choices will have consequences, but I will also be covered in His love and grace.
“I repent for not bringing it to You then, and even now with Declan. I repent for not asking You if any of this is Your will.”
Tears are flowing freely now, and I grab a tissue from the bedside table as the rest of the words spill from me, tear-soaked, wobbling, but true and heartfelt.
“I can see that You still have a way for things to work out, even when I don’t listen to You.
I repent for believing that You don’t want a beautiful marriage for me.
I’m Your daughter, and with that I know that You love me and what You want for me.
I know You exchange ashes for beauty. But I stopped believing in Your goodness and in Your heart.
When I got hurt, I blamed You instead of taking responsibility of my own actions. ”
Shaking my head, it’s as if everything is starting to make sense. Clarity hits me.
“I repent for taking matters into my own hands, Father. I did it again with Declan…I tried to fix something I broke. I wanted to fix it in my own strength.”
My throat tightens. “Help me to honor the commitment I made to Declan. Help me to do right by him and to the agreement we made. You see past the signatures and the papers, Father, You see our hearts. If it is Your will, help us be enough for each other. He’s now my husband, Father, He’s Your son.
I ask that You will bless him, that You will send Your Holy Spirit to surround him, and to keep him safe.
Please, go before him and stand behind him. ”
My heart aches giving over control, but it needs to happen. I can’t do life on my own. I need God to lead me, I need His hand over everything. Otherwise there’s no hope or reason.
“Father, if it is Your will, redeem my relationship with Declan. I ask that You take the wheel between us. Lead us, cover us. If it is Your will, let us find each other in a way that is honoring to You.”
I glance down at the Bible in my lap, the words of Psalm 51 calling to me. I’ve always felt that Scripture makes the most beautiful prayers. So I read Psalm 51 out loud, but this time as a prayer to God for forgiveness and mercy.
“Father God, tonight I ask for your mercy, for your grace. I ask that You would wash me from my sin, from my iniquity. My sin is only against You and I ask that You would blot it out, that You would wash me white as snow. Not because I deserve it, but because it’s who You are.
Cleanse my heart, Father, and renew in me a steadfast spirit.
Don’t take the Holy Spirit from me, Father, but restore in me the joy of Your salvation.
I’m here and I’m willing. Uplift me and uphold me, O God of my salvation.
You don’t want anything from me, except a heart filled with remorse. Cleanse my heart, Father.”
Opening the drawer of my nightstand, I take out the engagement ring Axel gave to me. Something in me lifts as I look at it. It’s no longer something that pierces…but something I can put away in the past.
“Cleanse my heart, Father,” I repeat again, closing my eyes.
I’m back in the throne room, the sea of glass stretching out before me. I kneel at His feet again, placing the ring, the guilt, the shame, the anger…everything…at the feet of my King. His warm and cleansing light spills over it, flooding every dark corner.
Grace, dear daughter. Grace.
The words echo through the vastness, through every part of my being as mercy wraps around me. When I finally open my eyes, the room feels lighter. The ring rests on the table beside my Bible, and my heart finally feels clean.