Not Until You (Hope Springs Book 3)

by Valerie M. Bodden

  Nate hauled in a ragged breath and made himself go on.

  “I didn’t think twice about getting in that car.” His voice cracked. “I had never been drunk before, and I didn’t think I was then. But I was. I was drunk and I got in a car, and I crossed the center line.”

  Next to him, Dan let out a swift exhale. Nate waited for Dan to tell him to stop, to tell him he didn’t want to hear the rest. But Dan sat silent, waiting.

  “We hit another car head-on. There was only one person in that car, fortunately, and he had some injuries, but he was okay. But Kayla, my sister, was thrown from the car. When I got to her, all I could see was blood spreading around her. I begged God to make her okay.” A silent sob racked his body, and he couldn’t go on.

  Dan gave him a minute, then asked quietly, “What happened to her?”

  Nate lifted his head and stared at the pool table with its scattered balls. “I don’t know.” The despair closed off his throat, and he struggled for a moment just to breathe. When he could finally speak again, his voice was a rasp against his throat. “She’s alive, that much I know. But my dad hasn’t let me have any contact with her since that day. She was in a coma, and I don’t know if―” Air rattled in and out of his lungs as he tried to regain control. “I don’t know if she’s ever woken up and if she has―if she’s the same person she used to be.”

  He slumped forward, and Dan’s big hand fell on his shoulder again.

  After a few seconds, Nate lifted his head and pinned Dan with his gaze. “So you wanted to know where I was from. Prison. That’s where. I came straight here from prison.”

  Nate sagged against the back of his chair, waiting for Dan’s reprimand. Waiting for the man to tell him what he already knew―he’d gotten off too easy and deserved to be in hell.

  Dan contemplated him, but Nate couldn’t read his friend’s expression.

  “You’re still in prison.”

  Nate stiffened. That’s exactly what he felt like, but how did Dan know?

  “You’ve made this prison for yourself,” Dan went on. “You’ve told yourself you don’t deserve to be forgiven. You’re so locked into that belief that you don’t see the truth right in front of you: you are forgiven.”

  Nate jumped to his feet, a surge of anger and adrenaline propelling him to the other side of the room. When he got to the wall, he pushed off it like a caged animal.

  “I don’t want to be forgiven,” Nate spat. “I want to know what to do to make up for it. How to make it right. I can’t erase that night. But there must be something I can do.”

  Dan’s infuriating calm smile was back. “That’s the thing, though. There’s nothing you can do.”

  All the adrenaline drained out of Nate, and he fell against the wall. That’s what he had feared. He’d have to live with this weight, this guilt, for the rest of his life.

  “Listen.” Dan leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “There’s nothing you can do. But that’s because everything’s already been done for you. Jesus paid the price for all sin.” He held up a hand as Nate started to protest. “Even this sin. He promises he’s removed it from you as far as the east is from the west.”

  “Well, he shouldn’t have,” Nate snarled.

  “No, he shouldn’t have. You certainly don’t deserve it.”

  Nate’s head snapped up. At least Dan could admit that he didn’t deserve forgiveness.

  But Dan kept talking. “I don’t deserve it, either. No one does. That’s what grace is. God’s undeserved love.”

  That word.

  Grace.

  Nate knew that word. Once upon a time, he had believed in that word. Had believed that God loved him no matter what he’d done.

  What had happened to the little boy, the young man who had believed that?

  “You know what else is a sin?” Dan went on.

  Nate stilled, waiting to hear how else he had failed.

  “Holding onto your guilt. You’re not bound by these chains anymore. God has released them. So now you need to let them go.”

  Something in Nate’s heart cracked.

  “I don’t know how.” His voice scratched against his throat.

  Dan rose to his feet and crossed the room, pulling him into a tight hug.

  “Good thing God has that covered for you, too.” Dan released him but kept a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to pray together?”

  Nate nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else.

  “Heavenly Father.” Dan’s prayer was strong and sure, as if he talked with God every day. Which he probably did. Nate used to do that, too, and he had an unexpected longing for that old intimacy with his heavenly Father.

  “You know our sins. You know our hurts. You know our hearts.” Dan squeezed Nate’s shoulder. “We ask that you would soothe us when the guilt of our sins threatens to drown us. When we think we have to do something to deserve your love and forgiveness. Take us by the hand and remind us that there is nothing we have to do―nothing we can do―to deserve you. That you love us anyway. That you died for us. And that you forgive us. Unconditionally. Ease our hearts, calm our spirits, and draw us closer to you day by day. In Jesus’ name we ask this. Amen.”

  Nate stood with his eyes closed, letting the peace of the moment wash over him. He felt as if his soul had been cleansed. As if he’d gotten a second chance at life.

  Not that his heart didn’t still ache. Not that he didn’t still hurt for the past.

  But in spite of all that, he knew he could go on. He could live as a forgiven child of God.

  “Thank you,” he finally whispered.

  Dan clapped him on the back. “Any time.” He bent to pick up Nate’s pool cue and passed it to him. “Your shot.”

  Nate nodded, still feeling stunned by Dan’s forgiveness―and by God’s. He bent to line up his shot.

  Just as he drew the pool cue back, Dan cut in. “I still don’t understand what all of this has to do with Violet.”

  Nate picked up his head, ruining his shot.

  “Oh, sorry.” But Dan’s eyes gleamed.

  “You did that on purpose,” Nate accused.

  Dan didn’t blink. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  Nate let out a heavy breath that felt like it might pull his soul right out with the air. “I know how her husband died. If Violet knew the truth about me―” He rubbed roughly at a spot on the pool table. “I’m afraid every time she looked at me, she’d see the driver who killed her husband.”

  Dan nodded thoughtfully, and Nate’s heart dipped. He had half hoped Dan would tell him he was wrong.

  “I guess there’s a risk of that.” Dan lined up his shot. “But maybe you should let her be the one to decide. By not telling her, you’re not protecting her. You’re protecting yourself.” Another ball dropped into the corner pocket.

  Nate knew Dan was right. And yet― “She deserves better.”

  Dan leaned down for another shot. “Violet deserves to smile again. To laugh.” He paused, seeming to see through Nate with his stare. “To love. If you’re the person who can give her that”―Dan pointed his cue at Nate―“then you’re exactly the person she deserves.”

  Nate’s mouth went dry. Is that what he wanted? Love?

  But he already knew it was. “How do I know she won’t run when I tell her the truth?”

  “You don’t.” Dan bent over, barely pausing to sight his shot, and hit the ball. “Just like you didn’t know if you would win this game. But you started playing anyway.”

  Dan sank the rest of the solid balls, then dropped the eight ball in the side pocket, shooting Nate a wicked grin.

  “Well, I hope things go better with Violet than they did in this game,” Nate muttered.

  But he couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of him. He felt lighter than he had since the night of the crash.

  He may not deserve a future with Violet.

  But by God’s grace, he might get one anyway.

  He only hoped it wasn�
�t too late to try.

  Chapter 36

  Violet couldn’t shake the heaviness as she locked up the shop for the day. It’d been a good day, money-wise, and she was getting closer to being able to pay everything off.

  But Nate hadn’t come by this evening. She tried to tell herself he’d probably gotten caught up at work. He’d probably be home any minute, and he’d knock on her door and ask if she wanted to hang out.

  But in her heart, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She’d been sensing him pulling away the past few days, ever since he’d heard her talk about Cade at the school. She was trying to respect the fact that maybe he needed more time and space to deal with everything she’d said. But it was hard. Now that she knew she was ready for another relationship, knew who she wanted that relationship to be with, knew how she felt about him, she didn’t want to wait.

  As she stepped onto the landing at the top of the stairs, her phone rang, and she paused to pull it out of her pocket. She didn’t recognize the number. Frowning, she swiped to answer, just as she heard the door downstairs open.

  “Hello?” she said into the phone as she spun toward the stairs.

  “Hi, Mrs. Somers. This is May. From the high school?”

  “Hi, May.” Violet’s gaze zeroed in on Nate. He had closed the door and was leaning against it, his eyes directed toward her. But he didn’t smile. Instead he looked―

  She wasn’t sure how to describe it, but if she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked almost scared. Her eyes went to Tony, panting at his feet as if he’d spent all day running.

  “I was just calling with a couple of follow-up questions.” May sounded hesitant, but Violet couldn’t focus on that. She was too busy trying to figure out how to reach Nate.

  “Sure, May. How can I help you?”

  “Well, I was writing my article, and I wanted to see if I could get a little more background on that guy that was with you, so I wouldn’t have to bother you, and . . .”

  “Yes?”

  Violet started down the steps. If Nate wouldn’t come to her, she would go to him. Maybe he was hesitant because he didn’t know how she felt. So she’d show him.

  “Well―” May let out a quick breath. “You didn’t mention that he had been convicted of drunk driving.”

  “What?” Violet jerked to a stop as the whole stairway tilted under her. She either had to sit or fall over.

  Right now.

  She dropped to the step above her with a thud.

  Through the fog that closed in around her, she vaguely saw Nate move toward the stairs, his expression changing to concern.

  “So I was wondering if you had anything to say about that? You know, given the way your husband died?” May sounded far away, and Violet was no longer sure any of this was real.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t― I don’t― I have to go.” Violet pulled the phone away from her ear and quickly hung up, afraid of what other venom might spew out of it if she didn’t.

  “Violet?” Nate crouched on the step next to her, and Tony sniffed her knees. “Are you okay? What was that about?”

  Violet tried to figure out how to speak while she was drowning. “That was May. The girl from the school newspaper. She wanted to follow up on some things.”

  She looked away. She didn’t want to say the rest. Didn’t want to hear him say it was true. But she forced the words out. “She wanted to know how I felt about your drunk driving conviction.”

  Chapter 37

  This couldn’t be happening. Nate had come home from Dan’s fully intending to tell Violet everything. But not like this.

  Her eyes refused to leave his, and he hated the hope shining in hers. She was waiting for him to tell her it wasn’t true.

  He looked away and held out a hand to her. She hesitated for a second, then took it and let him pull her to her feet and lead her into his apartment.

  Inside, he steered her toward the couch. She sat, her moves mechanical.

  Nate stepped away from the couch to pace in front of the window. He couldn’t be next to her when he did this. It would be too hard not to touch her, not to seek her comfort. But he didn’t deserve that.

  He almost choked on a shaky breath, his stomach roiling at the thought of what he was about to do.

  He loved this woman―he couldn’t deny it any longer.

  And he was about to ruin any chance that she could ever feel the same way about him.

  “I’m so sorry, Violet.” Nate swallowed against the burn that had already kicked in at the back of his throat. “I had no idea how Cade died until the other day. I never meant to hurt you.”

  Violet nodded, not looking at him.

  But he knew he hadn’t said enough. “I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want you to think―” His voice cracked. “I never meant for it to happen. It was the only time I ever drank, and―” He stopped himself. She didn’t need to hear his excuses. “I will regret it every day for the rest of my life.”

  “So that’s what your scars are from? On your chest and your knee?”

  He nodded and tried to think of anything else he’d kept from her. Now that she knew, she might as well know everything. “It’s also why I can’t drive. My license was revoked. And it’s why I meet with Officer Jensen, the woman you saw me with that day you brought me cookies―” His eyes flicked out the window to watch a boy struggling to get a kite in the air. “She’s my parole officer. I’m a felon, Violet. I just got out of prison.”

  “Did anyone die?” Violet’s voice was so quiet he could have pretended not to hear her. But she deserved to know the whole truth.

  “No.”

  He could see her let out a sigh of relief, but he wasn’t going to let himself get off that easily.

  “My sister almost did. I actually don’t know―” He turned away as he felt himself choking up. He didn’t deserve her sympathy, and she had such a soft heart, he knew she’d give it if she thought he was hurting. After a minute, he cleared his throat and turned toward her. “I don’t know how she is. That’s why I’ve been so desperate to meet my dad’s demands. It’s the only way he’ll let me see her and my mom again.”

  Violet inhaled like she was about to say something, but he had to finish this or he never would.

  “It was selfish of me to let myself get involved with you when I knew I could never be the man you deserved.” He gave a wry laugh. “I tried not to, I really did. But you made me feel like someone else when I was with you. Someone who could be more than this huge mistake. And I let myself get wrapped up in that. I just fell so hard for you and your loving spirit and your―” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  He finally looked at her, but she was watching her thumb slide up and down her empty ring finger.

  He moved to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water―and to give her the space he was sure she wanted.

  After downing two glasses, he stood with his hands braced on the counter, his head tucked between his shoulders. How could he go back out there? How could he face her now that she knew who he really was?

  Please give me strength. He whispered the prayer, then straightened.

  But before he could return to the living room, he heard the click of a door opening and closing.

  Chapter 38

  Violet leaned against the inside of her apartment door. She hadn’t meant to flee Nate’s apartment, but her thoughts had swarmed and knotted until she felt like she was going to split in two.

  She just needed some space. Some time to process what Nate had told her.

  She’d talk to him in the morning when she was thinking straight. When she’d worked out what she wanted to say. What she wanted to do.

  Violet shuffled to her bedroom and climbed into bed, fully clothed. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep. But she could still hear what Nate had said.

  He’d driven drunk. He’d almost killed his sister.

  But beyond that, she could see the guilt and torture in his e
yes. The shame and regret in his voice.

  She’d seen his brokenness. He’d let her in.

  Yes, he’d made a mistake.

  About the biggest one he could have made.

  But did that mean he didn’t deserve to be forgiven?

  Did she really mean what she’d said the other day at the school? That no one was beyond forgiveness?

  She folded her hands and prayed for the strength to forgive. Her prayers continued long into the night, until she finally drifted into sleep.

  In the morning, she sprang out of bed the moment her alarm went off. Without bothering to change out of the rumpled clothes she’d slept in last night, she sped through her apartment, out the door, and across the landing to Nate’s. She had to catch him before he left for the office. She needed to tell him that she forgave him and that nothing he had told her changed the way she felt about him.

  When he didn’t come to the door, she pounded harder.

  A few seconds later, a door opened across the hall.

  Violet spun toward Mrs. D’Angelo, apologetic. She’d gotten so caught up in her emotions that she’d been thoughtless. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. D’Angelo, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Mrs. D’Angelo tsked at her. “Please, child, I haven’t been able to sleep past four in the morning since you were in diapers. Just heard you knocking there and thought you should know that no one’s going to answer.”

  Violet’s stomach dropped. “Why not?”

  “Your young man left early this morning, before the sun was up. Had a suitcase with him, so I figured he was taking a trip.”

  “Did he―” Violet worked to control her voice. “Did he say how long he’d be gone?”

  Mrs. D’Angelo gave her a gentle look, and Violet almost lost her composure right there. “I didn’t get the impression he’d be back, dear. I’m sorry.”

  Violet pressed her lips together to stop the trembling.

  When she turned to her apartment, her eyes fell on a note that had been taped to her door. She pulled it off with a shaking hand.