Chapter 19 #2
But Michael had been doing the exact same thing to Kelsie that he’d done to Tabitha.
If Freya had been amenable to marrying him, he’d likely have repeated his pattern with her too.
All this time, Tabitha had been imagining that Michael was living his best life with Kelsie, finally satisfied and happy with a woman who could fit in with his friends and colleagues.
But it hadn’t been that simple, had it?
“I was really intimidated by you,” Kelsie said, twisting a napkin in her fingers. “You’re smart and have this incredible career. And Michael still held a flame for you.”
“No, he didn’t,” Tabitha said. “He had the chance to choose me, and he didn’t.”
“Well, he made sure that I felt just how much better than me you were whenever we fought. And he had a picture from your wedding that he kept behind a picture of me in a little frame next to our bed.”
“What?” Tabitha knew the frame that Kelsie was talking about. It was a small round frame that Tabitha had bought for him, and he’d put Kelsie’s picture into it before he left their home for the last time.
Kelsie dropped the twisted rope of napkin next to her coffee cup. “I found it, but I didn’t tell him I knew it was there.”
“Maybe he forgot.”
“No, he knew it. I saw him looking at it one morning, and he put it back.”
“What a piece of work that man was.” Tabitha shook her head. “Kelsie, he used the same games on me that he used on you. Every single one of them. I watched him put your picture in that frame. It broke my heart.”
“Why weren’t either of us enough?” Kelsie asked.
“I don’t know,” Tabitha said. “I honestly thought it was me who wasn’t enough. But it looks like this was just something he did. Maybe it made him feel important.”
Kelsie’s somber expression softened then, and she cast Tabitha a rather pretty smile that made her look even younger than her midtwenties.
“You are so much nicer than I thought you’d be,” Kelsie said.
“Because of how he talked about me?” Tabitha asked.
Kelsie shrugged. “Also because of what I did to you.”
Tabitha nodded. “Michael is in the past for me. He is a part of my history, but not my present. As you can see, I’m Amish again. I live a much different life now than I ever lived with Michael.”
“I’m glad you could do that,” Kelsie said. She made a face at her coffee. “I don’t normally drink it black. I don’t know why I tried to do that.”
Tabitha smiled faintly. They were both trying to act a little tougher than they really were.
Tabitha couldn’t really take credit for her return home.
It was Gott who had tugged her back, and if he hadn’t been nudging her and pressing her, she would have stayed Englisch, no doubt.
She never would have found that peace and relief of being home again with her sisters back in her life and her daet who was so supportive.
Not all of her Amish life was easy, especially not friendships with the other women, but it was growing.
“Are you going to talk to Freya?” Tabitha asked, nudging the sugar packets across the table toward Kelsie.
“I don’t know,” Kelsie said, and she gave Tabitha a sheepish smile as she took two and emptied them into her coffee cup. “I’m not sure if I could have a reasonable conversation with her, or if I’d just shriek at her and tell her I knew what she was doing with my husband.”
If Kelsie noted the irony, she didn’t let on.
“Well, I’m glad that we were able to talk,” Tabitha said. “I wasn’t sure this was a great idea, but at least we both know more than we did.”
“Are you angry with him still?” Kelsie asked.
“Yah, I am,” Tabitha said. “But I’m more grateful that our marriage ended. It would have crushed me to stay there, even if he had chosen me over you. I see now how many games he was playing. I wouldn’t have recognized it if we were still together.”
Tabitha would have still been silently competing with the beautiful Kelsie in her head. At least in peaceful Shepherd’s Hill, she could breathe freely. But the question now was, Was she going to be able to well and truly forgive Kelsie for all she’d done?
Kelsie’s phone blipped, and she pulled it out and looked at the screen. It must have been a text because she typed something.
“I have another appointment,” Kelsie said. “So I’d better get going. First, though, I had meant to ask you if there was anything you wanted to remember Michael by.”
“That’s kind but unnecessary,” Tabitha said.
Kelsie reached into her purse and pulled out a photograph cut into a circle—the wedding photo that had been in that frame.
“I brought this for you, all the same,” Kelsie said. “Thank you for being willing to talk. I appreciate it.”
Kelsie slid out of the booth, and Tabitha stayed seated. She didn’t want to walk out with her.
“I’m glad I came,” Tabitha said. “Take care.”
Tabitha watched as that little red car drove out of the parking lot, then she looked down at the wedding photo in front of her.
She’d been wearing a white wedding dress—unheard of in Amish weddings—and she’d been so in love.
Michael was looking down at her adoringly, and she’d just given up the life she’d known.
In that moment, she remembered how excited she’d been for the future, and it hadn’t even occurred to her that she shouldn’t trust her future to this man.
Gott, help me to forgive! she prayed. I know I need to do it, but I don’t know how.
This was the only wedding photo she had left.
She’d burned the others one night in a fit of anger and an attempt to heal.
It felt strange to have this one now. The Amish didn’t pose for photos—it was both against their faith and considered prideful.
She looked again at the circular picture on the table in front of her.
“Gott, please take away my anger,” she whispered.
She was Amish again, and she had returned with an honest heart and a desire to live the Plain way.
Michael had been a mistake from the start, and she didn’t want to be held down by the memories of him either.
She made a small tear in the photo, and then a larger one, tearing it completely in half.
She slowly began to tear the picture up into tiny fragments.
She scooped them into her hand and dropped them into her half cup of coffee.
They swirled, grew sodden, and sank. That photo wouldn’t play with her emotions anymore.
It could slip into the past along with her marriage and her late ex-husband.
She couldn’t pray for Michael yet. She couldn’t ask Gott to keep his soul or allow him to rest in peace. It wouldn’t be honest, and Gott would know it.
Tabitha stood. She needed to get out of this diner and back to hills and farms that soothed her soul.
Once upon a time, Tabitha had had a therapist, like Kelsie.
But she was home now, and she had a community to help her deal with the hard parts of life.
And somehow, when she thought about the widows’ circle, her sisters .
. . the only person she wanted to sit down and talk it all out with was Jonas.
He’d been her biggest comfort in the last year, and she still longed for his opinions, his perspective, and that kind, gentle way he always seemed to see the best in her.
Tabitha sighed. She was a glutton for punishment, wasn’t she?