by Leah Atwood
“You’re worrying me.” Nothing he could tell her could change her feelings, but she feared the haunted glaze over his eyes. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate seeing him slip away again into his memories. He’d fought so hard.
“I’m not that man you once married. I don’t have a perfect body.”
What is he talking about? It looks pretty near perfect to me. Not that it mattered. “I didn’t marry you for your body.”
“You say that, but could you deal with this?” He lifted his shirt to reveal a jagged scar running vertically across his once perfect torso. He dropped his shirt back in place, then hiked one leg of his shorts to reveal a puckered skin on his thigh. “It goes all the way to my hip. I’m scarred, Meg. Ugly.”
Anger twisted her gut, and she impulsively marched away before she said something she’d later regret.
She heard Wyatt’s heavy footsteps crunching to catch up to her. “Wait. It’s getting dark, and I know the woods better than you.”
“So be it,” she shouted behind her.
He caught up and stood beside her. “Shouldn’t I be the one mad because my scars disgust you?”
“Get over yourself.” She crossed her arms and stared him down. “Do you think that little of me that I’d care? Say I’d gotten pregnant while we were married and got stretch marks. Would you care? Apparently, you would.”
“That’s not fair. Stretch marks are a far cry from what’s on my body.” He adopted a defensive stance and rigid pose.
“Is it? What if I was in an accident and had similar scars? Let’s take it one step further. What if I lost a limb? Would you think less of me?”
“Of course not.”
She threw her hands in the air. “Then why on earth would you think I’d look at you differently because of your scars?”
“Because I saw the look of disgust in women’s eyes when I went swimming at the gym. I saw the stares and pity.”
“I’m not them.” She pressed a palm against his shirt where she’d seen the worst part of the scar. “There’s beauty in every scar. They don’t define you, but they tell the story of a brave and courageous man who experienced misery at its worst and lived to tell about it. Who not only lived through it, but fought back and didn’t let evil win.” She moved her hand off his stomach and tapped his chest. “Wear those scars proudly, Wyatt, because they are beautiful.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, and her outburst left her drained and feeling vulnerable, unsure of Wyatt’s reaction.
She wasn’t left to worry for long.
His arms circled her and tugged her close. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry.” She sniffled against his chest. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.”
“You had every right. I should have known you wouldn’t care.”
“But I shouldn’t have blown off your concern. I rushed to my anger, not hearing the pain behind the words.”
He brushed a tear from her cheek. “What are we doing?”
Here came the time for confidence. Take the lead. Tell him. “Rediscovering love.”
“Is that possible?” His hand lingered on her cheek. “They say you can’t go home again.”
“What do they know?” She leaned into his touch, relishing every rough tip of his fingers against the smoothness of her cheeks. They were the hands of a man not afraid of hard work.
“How will this work? What if I get a job in North Carolina?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” She raised a hand, traced his jawline. Caressed the beginnings of a beard. “Tomorrow will take care of itself.”
“I want this, but I’m afraid.” His words were a warm breeze on her cheek. “I can’t lose you a second time.”
“You won’t.” She claimed his hand and put it over her heart. “You’re here. You never left.”
“Then why did you want a divorce?”
The question hurt, but it was fair. He’d called it water under the bridge, but that was before a reconciliation was on the table. “I didn’t know who I was, and I was wrong. But that was then, and we’re different people now. A man and a woman with life experience that’s shaped and molded them into adults who’ve learned how to communicate and rely on God, instead of ourselves, for the answers.”
His eyes locked with hers, peered into their depths. “If we do this, if we go down a road that leads to marriage, divorce won’t be an option this time. I’ll fight for us with prayer and counseling and whatever else it takes to keep us together.”
“I wouldn’t expect less.” Her heart pounded and thudded with their breath mingling in the small space between them.
“I love you, Meghan Bailey.”
“Deluca.” She hadn’t told anyone until now.
“What are you saying?”
“I told everyone I changed it back, but I never officially filed the paperwork.” Revealing the secret lifted a weight from her chest. No more hiding. “I couldn’t. It was my last link to you.”
His breaths came uneven and ragged. He combed a hand through her hair, bringing her closer still to him. “I’ve waited seven years to do this again.”
She tipped her chin, raising her mouth to his.
He stopped just short of their lips meeting and brushed circles with his thumb through her hair. There was no rush, only a sweet savoring of each second they’d been given.
At long last, his lips pressed against hers. A gentle summoning to the future, a promise of forgiveness and acceptance.
And in that instant, she knew what it meant to be cherished.
Chapter Thirteen
Corie burst into his room without knocking, a habit he’d become accustomed to since he’d been home. “Mom said you wanted to see me?”
“I wanted to give you something.” He went to his dresser where he’d hidden the gift.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not every day my baby sister graduates high school.” He’d been ten when she was born and hadn’t been crazy about the idea of a little girl in the house, but the first time Mom had let him hold her, he’d been a goner.
She ducked her head, embarrassed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yes, it is.”
Corie plopped on his bed. “I know you’re bummed that you haven’t found a job yet, but I’m not at all disappointed, since it means you get to be there today.”
“I would have come home for your graduation.”
She stared at him, silently calling him out.
He pulled the box from the bottom drawer. “Okay, I might not have, but not because I didn’t want to be here.”
“I understand, and it’s okay.” Her expression held no anger against him, and he believed her words.
“I’m better now, though. Even if I don’t find a job here, nothing will keep me from all the important occasions.” He crooked a pinky and held it to her. “Pinky promise.”
She laughed and hooked fingers with him. “You can’t take it back now.”
“I don’t plan to.” He sat down next to her on the bed and handed her the box. “This is for you, a graduation gift of sorts.”
“Can I open it now?”
Smiling, he nudged her shoulder. “That’s kind of the point.”
She peeled back the wrapping paper with caution until she came to a plain box sealed with packing tape. He opened his pocket knife and sliced the tape for her.
Lifting the present from the box, she scrutinized it before setting it on the bed.
“It’s a memory box, handcrafted by an artisan in Italy.” He nodded toward the box. “Look inside.”
After removing the lid, she retrieved one item at a time. Seashells, a gold necklace, a miniature ceramic teapot, a book. Her eyes spread with awe at each item. “What is all this?”
“Everywhere we went, every port we stopped in, I picked up something for you to put in the box. I know I haven’t been the best big brother the last few years, but you were always in my thoughts.”
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She threw her hands around his neck. “You’re a great brother, and I love this.”
When he heard the distinct sniffle of crying, he pulled away. “You’re going to ruin your makeup, and Mom will yell at me for making you late.”
“Oh well.” Corie wiped at her eyes. “I should get ready. Mom’s worried about not finding seats.”
“I’ll leave now, pick up Meg, then head over early and get seats. Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll see you walking across the stage, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair then skedaddled out of the room before she could berate him for the nickname.
On his way out, he tossed Oscar a treat and told his mom he’d reserve seats.
His mom pulled an envelope from her purse and handed him two pieces of cardstock. “Here are two tickets for you and Meg. You’ll need them to get in.”
“Thanks.” He tucked them inside his new sports jacket. His extended stay in Lilston had required a shopping trip, since most his clothes were in North Carolina—and he was sick of wearing the same outfits.
On the way to Meg’s, he performed several mental calculations. He wasn’t worried about money yet, but at the same time, he didn’t want to exhaust his accounts. Between savings and the final payout from cashing in unused leave days, he would be fine for a year—longer if he downsized his vehicle. He prayed it wouldn’t come to that. Not because he couldn’t bear to part with the Land Cruiser—he loved it, but wouldn’t go bankrupt to keep it—but because he couldn’t stand the idea of not working for a year.
He’d thought about getting a part-time job in retail, just for something to do. The month off had been nice, but he was starting to get a little stir-crazy. His parents had run out of fix-it tasks for him at the house, and he’d repainted Meg’s living room. There had to be a job out there somewhere for him that allowed him to use his skill set.
“If it is Your will, please help me find a job soon, but in the meantime, help me to be patient and trust in You, Lord.”-+
Meg waited for him outside her house. She stood on the steps in a pale green sleeveless sundress that fell to her knees in a delicate flounce. Sun rays landed on her hair, accenting her highlights. She walked toward his vehicle, and he jumped out to open the passenger door for her.
Before she could get in, he snagged her in a hug and kissed her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Looking down at her dress, she smoothed the waist. “Thank you.”
She hopped in the seat, and he closed the door behind her. One day he wouldn’t have to drive to pick her up. They’d leave the house as a married couple.
They hadn’t set a date. They weren’t even engaged.
But they’d decided that was the end goal of their relationship.
Until that time, they’d explore who’d they’d become since breaking their vows. They would pray and learn so that they had a firm foundation for their next marriage—their last.
A mile down the road he realized Meg hadn’t said a word. When he stole a sideways glance, all he saw was her frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m worried about Kelly.” Hands folded in her lap, she twisted her thumbs.
“How come? Did something happen?”
“Today was supposed to be her wedding day, but she postponed it after Mama’s death.”
“Oh man, I’m sorry.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Would you rather go spend the day with her? I can drop you off now.”
“No, I promised Corie I’d be there today.”
“She’d understand.”
“I know, but I want to be there.” Uncertainty marked her expressions. “Would you mind if I don’t go out with your family afterward, though? I feel horrible backing out, but if Kelly needs me, I want to be there for her.”
“It’s fine, I promise.” He reached over and held her hand. “It’s completely understandable that you’d want to be there for Kelly. I don’t imagine today will be easy for her.”
Meg’s face perked. “How does it feel having your little sister graduate?”
“I’m so proud of her.” He couldn’t stop his grin if he wanted to. “She has great plans ahead of her.”
“She told me she’s going to U Penn. That’s amazing.”
“She earned it, but I’m worried about her moving to Philadelphia.” He let go of Meg’s hand to navigate a sharp turn. “She’s never spent more than a day in the city.”
“You don’t give her enough credit. She is a tough kid.”
“It’s not her I’m worried about.” He darted his gaze to her. “It’s all the other kids who don’t have the strong foundation she does.”
Meg laughed. “You’re such a big brother.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Not at all. It’s cute.”
Even with his eyes on the road, he felt her eyes on him. “Why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”
“You’re her brother—not her parent. More so, you’re not her. There comes a time you have to let her go and spread her wings.”
He jutted his chin in defiance. “Says who?”
His response didn’t faze her. “You know I’m right.”
“I know.” He let loose a long sigh. “But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Think of it as preparation for when you have a child of your own.”
Stopped at a red light, his cheeks twitched with amusement. “Will you be there to keep me in line?”
She ducked her head, but he didn’t miss the blush climbing her neck. Before she could answer, they arrived at the community college where the commencement ceremonies would take place.
“The lot’s filling up quick.” He surveyed the area for a closer spot. “Mind if we park back here and walk instead of searching for one up close?”
“I may or may not have had ice cream for breakfast, in which case I may or may not need the exercise to work it off.” She threw a playful wink his way.
“Does that mean no ice cream from Schumacher's later tonight?”
She narrowed her eyes, speaking solemnly. “If you’re implying one can only eat ice cream once a day, that’s just crazy talk.”
“You’ll be one of those women who sends your husband out for ice cream pregnancy cravings at midnight, won’t you?”
“If I’m growing a baby in me, the least my husband could do is give the baby the food he wants.”
She said it with such seriousness, he burst out laughing, and couldn’t resist a little teasing of his own. “Don’t worry. When you’re pregnant, I’ll get you anything you want, at any time of day.”
He was rewarded with the adorable blush he’d hoped for, but to his surprise, she didn’t stay quiet.
She opened her door and put one foot out, then turned back to him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Good,” he shot back, then jumped out and met her outside.
“I’m assuming this conversation means you still want kids?” She slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
“Absolutely. Some people look at the world and the evil in it, then say they don’t want to bring children into that mess.” Taking her hand, he wove their fingers as they walked. “The way I see it is I can help the world by bringing children into it and raising them in a way to counteract the negativity. Teach them morals, manners, kindness, and compassion.”
She squeezed his fingers. “You’ll be a great dad.”
“And you’ll be a great mom. Still want six children?”
“No.” She drew out the word, then chuckled. “Three to four sounds more reasonable for me, but I admire those amazing women who can raise a large family.”
“I wouldn’t trade Noah and Corie for anything, but there were times growing up I wished they had been closer in age to me.”
“Kelly’s only a year younger than me, and I loved having that closeness, but I would have welcomed more siblings.”
They came to the entrance and talk of children stopped. Fifteen minutes later t
hey made it inside after handing off their tickets.
“Do you see anywhere with ten seats together?” Despite his six foot one frame, he stood on his tiptoes to add height to his advantage.
“I see a few with five or six, but not ten.”
“I think I see a place.” He dragged her halfway across the auditorium before another party could claim the seats. Once they’d reserved the spots with programs and Meg’s purse, they sat in the fourth and fifth seat. “Good thing we got here now. I don’t remember Noah’s graduation filling up this quickly.”
“They restructured the school district last year, and added one-hundred and fifty students to the high school, with about forty to this year’s senior class.” Meg waved a circle around the room. “Assuming only parents are coming, that’s an extra eighty people right there. Add in siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles, that’s a lot more guests.”
“That makes sense. It’s strange to discover how much has changed. It makes me feel like I don’t know my hometown anymore.”
She offered a sympathetic smile. “Lilston will always be Lilston. We might grow or expand, but we’ll never lose the spirit that makes our community special.”
Her words should have been assuring, but they sent red flags shooting upward. The love she had for Lilston shone through proudly. Would she ever be willing to leave? When he’d asked her, she’d deferred answering by claiming they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.
It wasn’t an assuring response and left him with a sick feeling in his gut. They’d come this far—could a matter of location become the deal breaker?
Chapter Fourteen
Everything was in place for the Summer Reading Blastoff party. Meg had come in to work at six that morning to ensure all activities were ready by eight-thirty. The event didn’t begin until nine, but she’d learned her first year that eager parents and children would inevitably show up early.
She did a final walk-through of the roped off section of the parking lot. An inflated fun-jump served as a key attraction to draw patrons in from the streets. Several carnival-style games were set up with storybook themes. Two folding tables were near the entrance—one for registering children and the second which displayed the prizes available to win at different levels. Near the back corner of the area was a rented cotton candy machine.