Wendell’s heart pounded in his chest. He didn’t say a word, just drew her close. Was this the breakup he’d been expecting? He closed his eyes briefly and ran his hand along the back of her head. “I’m here.”
For a while neither of them said anything. Then Alicia drew back and studied him. “You were brilliant. At the meeting today.”
Where was this going? He chose his words carefully. “You only stayed ten minutes.”
“That’s all it took.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Every word you said . . . the students loved it. They loved you.” She smiled, and despite her tears the joy on her face seemed genuine. “It’s going to be a huge success, Wendell.” Her smile dimmed. “Until someone stops you, it’ll make a tremendous impact.”
“But . . . you didn’t stay.”
“I couldn’t.” Her eyes looked closed off. More of the fear from earlier today. She took a step back, distancing herself. “My heart started racing. I couldn’t catch my breath.” She hesitated. “I thought . . . I was going to die. For real this time.”
“Alicia . . .” He hated this. If only he could help her. “You won’t die. Please . . .”
“No.” She shook her head, her voice as broken as it was tender. “I’m not like you, Wendell. I told you, I’m not strong. And I need my job. As wonderful as this will be for the kids, it’s against the law. You know it is.”
Be gentle, he told himself. He drew a slow breath. “That’s your fear speaking, Alicia. Listen to yourself.” He kept his voice soft, his tone kind. “God will get us through this. Whatever happens. It’s not wrong to hold a voluntary club. I’ve been very careful in my research. Don’t you believe that?”
“Wendell, you’re not a lawyer.” Alicia wiped at her tears and shook her head, her eyes locked on the floor between them. “I need to think about things. About us. I need time.”
Time. There it was. Her way of stepping back. Ending things with him. The actual breakup was just a matter of days now. Wendell drew a slow breath. “Alicia, look at me.”
She lifted her eyes and there it was. Already she was pulling away from him.
Wendell brushed her hair back from her face. “You don’t have to be afraid. We can get through this together.” He hesitated. “Remember? You feel safe with me.”
“I did.” This time her expression told him she had all but made up her mind. “I don’t want to lose you . . . or the kids. But my doctor told me to avoid triggers.” She paced a few steps and then turned to him again. “Do you know how much it hurts me that you’re a trigger?” Tears spilled onto her cheeks.
“I’m not a trigger, Alicia.” Wendell held his hand out to her. “I love you.”
Her breathing was fast again, the way it was when he first watched her have a panic attack.
“No, baby.” Wendell reached for her hands. “Don’t do this. God’s here. He’s with us.”
“I can’t.” She took another step back, clearly working to maintain control. She closed her eyes, and a series of slow, full breaths followed. A coping mechanism, she’d told him before. Her tone was calm when she continued. “If I can’t . . . stand by you . . . it’s wrong for me to stay.” She paused. “I’m broken, Wendell. You need someone whole.”
Be gentle, he told himself.
There were a hundred things Wendell could tell her, ways he could remind her about why she had fallen in love with him in the first place, and how beautiful their summer together had been. But in the end he said nothing. This had to be her decision.
He took a step back. “I’m sorry, Alicia. Whatever you decide . . . I respect that.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. Like it about killed her to let him go. But when she left his office she went without looking back. Wendell moved to the window and watched her walk to her car and drive off.
Suddenly the years melted away and he could see the way Alicia had looked when Wendell first knew something was wrong. Back when they were merely co-workers. Wendell would catch a glimpse of fear in her eyes, even in her happiest moments as a teacher.
He knew now that her fear had a name. A man who had stalked her and terrorized her, loved her and dated her off and on for the past few years. A man she hadn’t quite escaped until recently.
A man named Jack Renton.
Wendell returned to his desk and opened the top drawer. Just inside was a list of phone numbers for law enforcement. People he could call at a moment’s notice if Alicia needed his help. If Jack ever showed up at Hamilton High. The phone number of a buddy who worked for the FBI, and the number for the police chief of the precinct that included Hamilton. Also the number to the courthouse where she could file a restraining order against Jack if ever it came to that.
For today Jack was out of her life. But the man was never far away. Even now.
Wendell pulled a photo from his desk drawer, the one that sat next to the list of phone numbers. It was a picture of Alicia and Wendell the first time they went to dinner. Taken the evening the line between friendship and attraction dissolved like sugar in her iced tea.
The waiter had taken the photo. “Celebrating an anniversary?” he had asked.
Wendell and Alicia had laughed and Wendell spoke first. “More like a first date.”
Surprise had filled the waiter’s eyes. “Could’ve fooled me.” He had winked at Wendell. “You two look like you’ve been together for years. Like you were made for each other.”
Made for each other. Wendell looked at the photograph for a long while. She was pulling away. How can I help her, God?
Another memory came. One from longer back, a year at least. The first time Wendell had figured out what was sucking the life out of Alicia Harris. Wendell had been working late when Alicia hurried back into the school from the parking lot.
She had knocked on his office door, her face stricken.
Immediately, Wendell went to her. “Alicia, what’s wrong?” He searched her eyes. “Is someone hurt?”
“No.” The word sounded like her mouth was dry, and Wendell could see her heartbeat at the base of her throat. She seemed breathless as she continued. “It’s just . . . my tire’s flat. And my cell phone’s dead. Could I . . . could I call for a tow truck from your office?”
Wendell knew one thing immediately.
The panic in her voice meant something else was bothering her. Something more grave than just a flat tire.
“You can use my phone.” Wendell took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll take a look at your tire.”
“No!” Her answer came too quickly. “I . . . I’ll call for help. I don’t want to bother you.”
Wendell uttered a confused laugh. “Alicia, I know how to change a tire. Do you have a spare?”
“I’m not . . . sure.”
Wendell looked intently at the woman. Alicia had always been happy, full of light. But she had changed. Lately she was as distant as she was beautiful. And on that particular day, Alicia was clearly terrified. She looked over her shoulder and then out Wendell’s window and back at him.
Finally she agreed to have Wendell look at her tire. He followed her out to her car and stooped down to examine the problem. That’s when he got his first hint at the secret life Alicia Harris had been living.
Her tire wasn’t only flat. It had been slashed.
Wendell could still remember how he had stood up and looked at her. The fear in her eyes was eclipsed by a raw embarrassment. She hung her head and a few tears fell onto the parking lot asphalt. It was early fall and not that cold. But it might as well have been snowing for how Alicia shivered.
For a long while they just stood there, the truth hanging between them. Something was deeply wrong. After a few seconds Alicia brought her hands to her face and her tears came in earnest. “I’m . . . sorry. I didn’t want you to find out.”
“Who did this?” Wendell touched her shoulder. “Alicia . . . please. Tell me.”
“I can’t.” She stepped back from him and glanced toward the road in front of the sc
hool. “I’m . . . so afraid.”
The moment might have happened a year ago, but Wendell could still feel the way his heart had melted for her. “Come here.” He held out his arms and despite her reluctance, she closed the gap between them. The smell of her perfume filled his senses and for a moment her trembling stopped.
But right when she had seemed comfortable in his arms, when Wendell was thinking this might just be where she actually belonged, Alicia pulled away. “I’m sorry.” She looked at him. “He might come by.”
“Who?”
She was shaking harder than before. “Can . . . we go inside?”
“Of course.” Wendell wanted to put his arm around her or take her by the hand. Anything to make her feel safer. Warmer. But she was clearly afraid of being seen with him. The two walked back inside and into his office. Wendell closed the blinds and motioned for Alicia to take the seat opposite him.
That’s when he heard the story. Every sad detail.
For the past few years Alicia had been dating Jack Renton. He was a well-bred accountant on the right side of the city. Alicia explained how at first things had gone well. Jack had money and connections and a Princeton education. He liked fine food and he had a penchant for extravagant nights on the town.
But then, according to Alicia, one morning she walked out of her house to find Jack sitting on the curb in front of her house. Right next to her car. He accused Alicia of staying out late and cheating on him—none of which was true. After that the man became increasingly possessive and threatening.
The slashed tire was another of Jack’s abusive ways. His attempt at punishing her for imagined offenses.
Wendell had listened to her story that day, and suddenly so much about Alicia Harris had become clearer. Wendell looked at her for a long moment. “Alicia . . . why are you still dating him?” Even if he couldn’t believe it, Wendell had to ask. “Is it because you’re afraid he’ll hurt you if you stop?”
Alicia tilted her chin, as if she was trying to save what little pride she had left. “He has his good days, Wendell. It’s just . . . he thinks I’m cheating on him. He watches me all the time.” She hesitated for a long moment. “Last night he took my cell phone. So he could check it.”
Wendell had been shocked. A year later the memory still surprised him. So that had been the reason Alicia couldn’t call for roadside assistance. Because Jack Renton had her phone. And her tire was slashed because whatever he’d seen on her phone had made him angry. Clearly.
That day, when Alicia’s troubles fully came to light, Wendell had looked her square in the face and told her the truth. “He’s a dangerous guy. You should end things. Immediately.”
For a long while she only stared at her hands. Her shoulders still shook. When she finally lifted her eyes to Wendell, she nodded. Her expression was dark with fear. “You’re right. It has to end.” She started to cry. “He’ll kill me. I know he will.”
Wendell couldn’t believe she was actually afraid Jack would kill her. Then Alicia admitted that Jack’s threatening behavior had been going on for two years. Wendell remembered being sick to his stomach. No wonder the light in Alicia’s eyes had grown dim.
And there in that moment Wendell’s sense of protection and attraction had come together in a rush of emotion greater than anything he had experienced in years.
Not since he’d lost Joanna.
He stood and walked to the other side of his desk. Then he reached out his hand. When she took it, when their fingers touched, Wendell wondered if he might spend the rest of his days loving Alicia Harris.
He drew her onto her feet and into his arms, and for the longest time he held her, running his hand along the back of her head. Her tears stopped and she let herself relax against him. This time she didn’t pull away. “I feel safe here, Wendell. With you.”
And like that Wendell was hooked.
Forever Wendell would remember the way it felt to hold her that day. He would do whatever he could to protect her and treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Alicia felt safe with him. She still did.
That day in his office had only been the beginning. Over the next few weeks Wendell met with Alicia after school. He would talk about God and the Bible, especially the verses that spoke of life’s battles. “God wants to fight those battles for you, Alicia. Do you believe that?”
She told him she did believe. But her faith had been stymied by two years of living in fear. Two years of letting Jack Renton dictate her actions and feelings and emotions. “It’s like I forgot God was there at all,” she had told Wendell one afternoon.
Wendell looked forward to their times together like nothing in all his life. This was different than his love for Joanna. He and Joanna had been confident in their relationship, comfortable with life and each other. Joanna didn’t need special protection.
Alicia did.
And that only intensified Wendell’s feelings for her.
Back then, after three weeks of meeting with Wendell, Alicia had been ready to break things off with Jack. Wendell prayed with her about the outcome, then she went home and called Jack. He had worked late that day, otherwise he would’ve been waiting for her at her house. The way he usually did.
Wendell had known this was Alicia’s one chance. He had even given her the words to say. I’m done. I want out. If you come here tonight, Jack, or any other time, I will call the police.
At first it seemed the plan had worked. Jack understood things were over, and he agreed to stay away. But nothing about Jack Renton was ever that simple. Jack was a master manipulator. Alicia was his target.
In the week that followed Jack sent her a series of messages apologizing and begging her to come back. He talked about the early days and how he had let stress from his job affect the way he treated her. He was sorry about being so intense, sorry about not trusting her and sorry she felt the need to move on.
Alicia took Jack’s apologies as proof that she was supposed to get back together with him.
And so began a roller coaster of events and emotions for Alicia. It was also the start of Alicia’s crippling panic attacks.
Wendell was there for it all—even before she’d been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Before he knew about her panic attacks. Wendell was there time and again when Alicia got back together with Jack, and he was there each time Jack started his creepy, obsessive behavior again.
Finally, she told Wendell the truth about her panicked heart. He had prayed with her and showed her Scriptures to ease her anxiety, including the verses from Philippians 4. Wendell thanked God when this past spring Alicia broke up with Jack for the last time. Until then Wendell had been Alicia’s best friend, her confidant. The one she turned to when she was afraid. Wendell hadn’t told Alicia how he felt about her yet. That could come later, he had told himself. After she was free and clear of Jack.
When summer started, Alicia began joining Wendell and his kids for movie nights and cookouts. At first, Jack still called her but she blocked his number. Once summer was in full swing, Alicia didn’t check her phone. And the few times Jack showed up at her house she stayed inside until he left. Eventually his calls came less frequently and she didn’t fear coming home.
As for Wendell and Alicia, their friendship grew stronger every day. Wendell loved having her at his house, loved watching the kind way she interacted with his children. Around Wendell and his family, Alicia laughed easily and the fear in her eyes seemed gone forever.
Until now.
Father, speak to her. Let her know how much I love her and help her feel Your perfect peace. Don’t let this be the end. Please, Father.
The prayer came as easily as Wendell’s next heartbeat. But when Wendell locked up his office and drove home he had an almost certain feeling that things between him and Alicia Harris were finished.
And that the price he would pay for reading the Bible at Hamilton High had just begun.
• • •
ALICIA COULDN’T SEE the road through her
tears that evening. Long after she got home and changed clothes, the heaviness of the decision ahead remained. Wendell was the best man she’d ever known. The kindest father, the most caring principal. He was exactly the sort of role model the kids at Hamilton needed. The sort of man Alicia needed. But this battle over faith at Hamilton was destroying what they shared.
Alicia sighed. She believed in God with everything in her. But the panic attacks were coming more frequently now. Each one felt like certain death. She closed her eyes. Why couldn’t someone else lead the Bible club? She’d already told him, praying with students was going to cost him his job. Hers, too, if she supported him.
Then what? Who would care about the kids at Hamilton once Wendell Quinn was gone? Where would she live and how would she find a job? What if the panic attacks became worse and she couldn’t get out of bed?
Her heart jumped and began racing. Faster and faster until she could barely feel the beat. The muscles in her throat tightened. “No!” She spoke the word out loud. “No, please, God, no!” She bent at the waist, exerting pressure on her abdomen. Sometimes that stopped the panic. Help me, God. Not another one!
But it was too late. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t slow her speeding heart. Exhale, she told herself. Breathe out. That was the only way to break free from the panic. Exhale. Her doctor had told her that.
Exhaling and Xanax.
Alicia’s head was spinning and she could feel herself losing consciousness. Was she going to faint? Hit her head on the floor? Was this how death would finally catch her? She forced her feet to move, closer toward her purse and the pills inside. One step and then another. Just a few feet away to the kitchen counter and she was there. In a burst of effort, she grabbed the Xanax bottle and managed to remove the lid.
One pill, she told herself. Just one.
Dizzy and sweating and gasping for breath, her heart ready to burst from her chest, she poured a glass of water and downed one of the blue tablets. Just one 1 milligram pill. That would do it. She closed her eyes tight. Please, God, let it work. The Bible verses flashed in her mind. Why hadn’t she remembered that earlier? Reciting Philippians 4 had worked even better than the pills last time.
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