But just as Ava had picked it up to put it in a safe spot, Joseph had crashed into her, and the pot had tumbled to the floor, splintering into half a dozen pieces.
“Remember how mad you were?” From the distance of his voice, she could tell he was still on the other side of the room.
“I remember.” Ava laughed at the younger her, who had been so broken up about a hunk of clay. “I accused you of destroying my masterpiece.”
“Yeah, and you wouldn’t take it back after I glued it. But I couldn’t just throw your masterpiece away.”
“Even though it’s hideous?” Ava ran her finger over an imperfectly aligned seam.
“Hey, I think I did a pretty good job putting it back together.” Joseph’s voice softened. “Anyway, just because something’s broken doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.”
Ava’s breath hitched at the significance she thought she detected in his words. But she refused to look at him to see if what she thought she heard―what she wanted to hear, perhaps―was correct.
She set the pot back on the shelf, her fingers going to the rough skin of her face by habit. Madison’s flawless complexion popped into her head―her flawless complexion and her giggling voice as she’d talked about going to prom with Joseph.
What was Ava doing here, letting herself pretend nothing had changed? “I should go.”
Joseph made a sound of dissent. “What about Tasha’s lesson? You can’t break your promise to her.”
Ava sighed, looking toward where Tasha and Griffin were curled up together on the floor.
Tasha looked up, giving her the same puppy dog plea Griffin was so good at.
Did Ava really feel compelled to keep a promise she’d made to a dog?
“Fine. Just for a few minutes.”
But an hour later, long shadows traced across the grass as the sun hovered at the edge of the ridge to the west. And she was still there, still working with the dog, still enjoying every moment with Joseph.
That was it. She had to go before she wanted more.
She patted Tasha’s head. “Good girl. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll need much more training.”
“But you’ll still help, right?” Joseph’s look was hopeful and eager.
Ava bit her lip. This could be dangerous. “I’ll try,” she finally settled on. “If I have time.” He didn’t need to know that she had nothing but time most days.
She shuffled awkwardly, not quite sure how to say goodbye to him. She wasn’t going to pat his head like she did Tasha’s, obviously. But a hug seemed like too much―even if every time she looked at him she remembered the feel of his arms around her.
She slid her hands into her back pockets, staring toward the pink flowers of his neighbor’s crape myrtle tree. “Keep working on ‘leave it’ with her. I’ll set up the test for a couple of weeks from now. She should be ready.”
Joseph laughed. “I appreciate your optimism. Maybe we can―”
Ava couldn’t let him finish that sentence. “Thanks for the hike. And for dinner. It was nice.” Okay, it was the best day she’d had since . . . since the last time she’d spent the day with Joseph. But that had been a long time ago. And this had been a one-time thing.
“It was nice, wasn’t it?” Joseph’s eyes grabbed hers, and his smile put a tiny chink in the safe around her heart.
“Griffin, let’s go.” She tore her eyes away from Joseph and clapped for the dog to get up from the spot where he’d been rolling in the grass.
“Ava, wait.” Joseph’s voice was soft but urgent, and Ava’s heart tried to bang another dent into the safe.
She let her eyes come back to his but made herself look away quickly. Whatever he was going to say, she wouldn’t be able to resist it if she was drawn into them.
Joseph cleared his throat. “I just wondered if I’ll see you at church tomorrow?”
“Oh.” Ava licked her dry lips. “Probably not.” She tried to sound nonchalant, even as guilt pressed at her.
“You don’t go to church anymore?”
“Not really. No.” The thought of stepping through those doors and sitting among all those people―she fought off the shudder.
“Why not?” Joseph moved to the porch and lowered himself onto the top step, pointing to the spot next to him.
Ava remained on her feet. “It’s complicated.”
“I just spent eight years studying to be a vet. I’m good at complicated.” Joseph’s smile was warm, inviting, free of judgment.
Ava sighed, running a hand over her cheek. “Since the―” She choked on the sentence. They’d never talked about that night before. But she made herself go on. “Since the fire, I’ve developed some agoraphobia.”
“Bless you,” Joseph said, as if she’d sneezed, giving her a blank look.
“I thought you were good at complicated,” she teased, moving to lean against the porch railing. Griffin looked from her to Joseph, then settled at Joseph’s feet. “Basically, the first time I tried to go back to church―it was maybe six months or so after the fire―I had a panic attack. Right there in the middle of church. I kept thinking of all those people looking at me, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I mean, not like I thought I couldn’t breathe. I literally couldn’t catch my breath. Like someone was squeezing a vice around my lungs.” Even talking about it now made her gasp for breath. “My heart was pounding so hard I couldn’t hear the music, and I was shaking. And all I could think was that I was going to die right there in the middle of church, with all those people looking at me.”
“What happened?” Joseph’s voice was soft, comforting, as it wrapped around her.
She shrugged. “I wanted to get up and leave, but I couldn’t get my limbs to work. So I just sat there. It passed after fifteen minutes or so. But I could barely walk out of there at the end of the service, my legs were wobbling so badly.”
“Have you ever had more attacks?”
“Yeah. It’s why I don’t go many places. Just home and to my studio. Some days that’s hard too, but it helps that there are never a lot of people there at once.” She broke off, realizing that there was now one other place she’d gone―here. Where she felt oddly safe.
“So you don’t go places because you’re afraid of having another attack?”
Ava nodded. “And that is the definition of agoraphobia. Avoiding places or situations out of fear you’ll have a panic attack.”
“Is there anything that can help?” Joseph slid a few inches closer to her, and Ava crossed her arms to fend off the desire to let him wrap her up and keep her safe. That wasn’t his job anymore.
“I was seeing a counselor for a while. She suggested I take someone with me when I go somewhere I’m worried about. But Lori is busy. And you know how she feels about church.” When she was younger, Ava had pushed for Lori to come with her―but Lori would only drop Ava off at the door and pick her up afterward. It was how Ava had ended up spending most Sundays sitting with Joseph and his family.
“Anyway―” Ava brushed at invisible dirt on her sleeve. “Your daddy comes to see me sometimes.” Though the last several times Pastor Calvano had called, she’d put him off. Come to think of it, it had probably been three years or more since the last time she’d met with him.
Joseph touched her elbow. “If you ever need someone to go with you, you know I’m here. Okay?”
Ava swallowed and nodded, taking a step away from the porch. She didn’t want to leave. But she did want to put some space between them.
A warm hand grabbed hers and pulled her toward him. The moment she turned to look at him, she knew she shouldn’t have.
Joseph chose to ignore Ava’s quick head shake. He’d already waited far too long to do this.
He stood and grabbed her other hand too, mostly because she looked poised to run away.
“Ava, I miss you. I’ve missed you every day for the past eight years.”
Ava shook her head again, harder this time, the last rays of the sinking sun setting the red str
ands of her hair alight.
She pulled her hands out of his and took a step backwards. “Joseph, please don’t.”
“Don’t what?” He followed her as she fled toward her vehicle. “Don’t tell you that there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought of you? Don’t tell you that if I could go back and do it over again, I―”
“I said don’t!” She whirled on him, her voice fierce, the green of her eyes glistening.
The plea that was on his lips fell away. He couldn’t keep himself from reaching for her hands again, but she swung them out of his grasp.
“Why?” It didn’t make sense. They were still perfect together. She had to see that.
“I just can’t.” Her whisper was filled with a desperation Joseph had never heard from her before. “Promise you won’t ask me for more than friendship. That you won’t ask me out. Ever.”
The kick of her words hit Joseph in the gut. This was the same woman he’d once promised forever. Now she wanted him to promise the opposite? “You really want me to promise that?”
She nodded.
Joseph blew out a long breath, turning his head to watch the sun slip below the mountains to the west. If this was what she wanted, he didn’t have a right to deny it. No matter how much it hurt him. “I promise.” He could only manage a whisper.
“Thank you.” Her smile was wobbly. “We can still be friends though, right?”
“Always.” Joseph stepped forward and pulled her into a quick, friendly hug, complete with back slap. “See?”
“Good.” Ava ducked out of his arms and called for Griffin.
A second later, she backed out of the driveway with a small, sad wave.
Or maybe it only looked sad because his own heart was shattered. After eight years of waiting, this was how things were going to end?
Maybe he should have pleaded with her, tried to convince her she was wrong. But he knew Ava. Once she’d made up her mind about something, it was nearly impossible to change it. At least without help.
He shook his head letting a small grin cheer him. “I promised not to ask her out,” he said to Tasha. “I didn’t promise I wouldn’t pray she’d change her mind.”
Chapter 13
“Do you not like Michael?” Aunt Lori barged into the kitchen Friday morning, and Ava jumped, looking up from the Bible she’d been reading. She’d dug it out of her desk this morning, though she still wasn’t sure why, only that ever since Joseph had asked her about church, she’d been thinking more and more about how she’d let her attention to her faith fade over the last few years―since the fire, if she was being honest.
“What?” Ava closed the Bible. She’d spent the past ten minutes staring at Jeremiah 29:11, once her favorite verse: “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Believing that had been easy once, when she could see her whole life mapped out before her, stretching out forever. But now―now her forever had shattered into more pieces than that old clay pot Joseph had held onto. And unlike the pot, it was impossible to put it back together again.
She forced her attention back to Lori. “Why would you ask that?”
“Well, you hardly said a word to him at dinner last night. You didn’t laugh at his cowboy joke. And he said you change the subject whenever he mentions helping with the yearbook.” Lori folded her arms. “Is this too weird for you? Me dating one of your old teachers?”
“What? No. I mean, well, yes. It’s weird.”
Lori made a sound like she was about to speak, but Ava kept going. “It’s weird. But not bad. You seem happy.”
“I am.” Lori grinned like a lovesick teenager. “But what’s going on with you? You haven’t been yourself all week. Since you went hiking with Joseph.” Lori raised an eyebrow. “I think I told you it was a bad idea.”
Ava sighed. She hadn’t heard a word from Joseph all week―not even a text. And her constant obsession with checking for one was only proof she’d made the right decision when she’d made him promise not to ask her for more than friendship.
Because no matter how much she wanted to be with him again, she was his past. Not his future. And the sooner they both accepted that, the better.
Still, she’d thought that remaining friends meant . . . well, that they’d talk at least.
You could text him, you know.
“He doesn’t deserve you, Ava, you know that, right? Not after the way he walked away―”
“I made him.” The confession shot off her tongue. It wasn’t fair to Joseph to let Aunt Lori think he was that kind of guy.
Lori stared at her. “What do you mean, you made him? You made him what?”
“Walk away.” Ava swallowed. “I told him I didn’t want to see him again after the fire. I broke up with him, not the other way around.”
Lori stared, as if she didn’t believe Ava. “He must have done something to make you―”
Ava shook her head, blinking hard so she wouldn’t give in to the burning at the back of her eyes. “He didn’t do anything, Aunt Lori. He was just himself. The same perfect Joseph as always.”
“Well.” Aunt Lori blew out a breath and leaned against the counter. “Why did you do that?”
“Because he deserved better,” Ava whispered. “He had this whole big future in front of him, and I had this . . .” She waved a hand around the room. “This small life.”
“No offense taken.” Lori laughed but then made her way across the room and pulled Ava into a quick hug. “Your life is not small. And there is no one better, you got that? If Joseph’s not smart enough to figure that out, he’s not worth it. Right?”
Ava nodded once. There was no need to tell Aunt Lori that Joseph wanted to ask her out again. Now that she knew the truth about their breakup, Ava couldn’t guarantee her aunt wouldn’t side with Joseph. And she couldn’t risk having two people trying to convince her to date him. She wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to resist that.
And she had to resist it―at all costs. Because as much as Joseph might think he still wanted to be with her, sooner or later he would realize she wasn’t the kind of woman he should be with. That he could do so much better. That he deserved someone whole and unbroken―someone like Madison.
Because he would realize it eventually, that much she was certain of. And she was pretty sure she wasn’t strong enough to handle it when he did.
Anyway, he may have looked hurt for a second when she’d made him promise not to ask her for a relationship―but he hadn’t argued. He’d made the promise without a fight.
Which only went to show―his heart wasn’t at stake the way hers was.
Joseph drummed his fingers on his car’s steering wheel as he pulled out of his driveway. After a week without a vehicle, it was good to have the car back.
If only it were as easy to get back into Ava’s life.
He’d left her alone all week, trying to show her that he was respecting her wishes. But it had taken every last ounce of his willpower, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go without at least texting her. If he was being honest, he’d hoped that she’d realize she missed him and maybe stop by with Griffin or give him a call or even a teeny-tiny text. But he’d gotten nothing but radio silence from her since last Saturday.
Maybe he was crazy to hold out any hope at all. But after waiting eight years, he wasn’t going to give up over a couple of days of silence. In fact, as soon as he got to work, he’d text her. She’d said they could still be friends. And friends texted each other, right? Nothing more natural in the world.
Now he just had to figure out what to text her.
As he pulled into the driveway of River Falls Veterinary, he was still trying to come up with something. “How are you doing?” seemed too open-ended. “What are you doing?” was too intrusive. “Thinking of you” would only make her put up more walls.
He sighed, patting Tasha’s head as he parked in the farth
est spot from the door, leaving the closer spots for his clients. He’d been swamped all week, and the small parking lot tended to fill up fast. “This is harder than you’d think.”
Tasha gave him a sniff, and Joseph laughed. “If only it were that easy.”
He got out of the car and opened Tasha’s door. The moment she was outside, she lifted her nose to the air and sniffed for a second, then bolted toward the front door.
“Tasha, wait.” Fortunately, there was no one else in the parking lot this early in the morning. “Tasha, come.”
But the dog ignored him, charging straight for a large box that was blocking the front door. Joseph frowned at it. He didn’t remember ordering anything.
Tasha scratched at the box, whining.
Joseph tilted his head, watching her. “What is it, girl?” He lengthened his stride.
When he was a dozen yards away, he heard it.
Little yips.
He jogged the last few steps and pulled the top of the box open.
Tasha jostled him out of the way as she vaulted onto her hind legs, her front paws perched on the edge of the box, her nose poking into it.
Joseph nudged her aside so he could see.
“Holy smokes.” He reached into the box and plucked out a wriggling puppy―white and brown speckled and no more than six weeks old, by the looks of it. Inside the box, another eight pups barked up at him.
He looked from the puppies to Tasha to the sky and chuckled. “You’re a genius, Lord.”
He knew exactly what to do next.
Chapter 14
“You know what, boy?” Ava snapped her fingers to call Griffin. Aunt Lori had left half an hour ago, and Ava had been sitting here pining for Joseph long enough. “Let’s go for a hike.”
Griffin shot to his feet, his tail swinging from side to side. But his eyes questioned. Was this a good idea?
Pieces of Forever: A Christian Romance (River Falls Book 1) Page 7