Love's Providence: A Contemporary Christian Romance

by Jennifer H. Westall

  “Well, hey there, stranger.” She ran a glance up his body until her gaze returned to his. “I knew you’d show up here sooner or later.”

  “You didn’t leave me much choice.”

  Her grin was her only response. God, he hated playing into her manipulations, but it was the only way to finally be free of this nightmare.

  “Look, can we just get this over with?”

  “My house is your house.” She pushed the door open wider. “Come on in.”

  He followed her through the foyer into a modest-sized living room, apparently decorated professionally. What struck him was the complete absence of color. Everything in the room was white or silver and oddly immaculate.

  “I thought you hated white furniture.”

  She glanced back at him and lifted an eyebrow. “I never said that.”

  “You said it was arrogant to flaunt it if you were rich enough or anal enough to keep white furniture clean. It was why you didn’t want to rent that house on Reynolds Street.”

  “No, I just didn’t want to be scared to walk out the door to my car.”

  “So you moved to New York instead?”

  “Are you really here to argue with me about white furniture?”

  He willed his mouth shut. He didn’t need to get distracted by petty arguments. It was exactly what she wanted.

  “No, let’s just get on with it.”

  She gestured to the sofa. “Would you like to sit in here, or do you want to get a drink and sit in the kitchen?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, you look like you could use a beer. Follow me.”

  She led him into the kitchen where he took a seat at the glass-topped breakfast table. Again, he noted the stark white floor and counter tops. The whole place was blinding. She’d never been messy, but she hated cleaning. It would take a full-time maid to keep her apartment this spotless.

  “You, uh, have a nice place here,” he said.

  She pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and walked over to the table. She slid the bottle to him.

  “Thanks.”

  “You must be doing well for yourself.”

  “I am. You ever read the column?”

  “No. I don’t get the Times in Brunswick.”

  “Ah, well. I’ve been freelancing as well. Gives me a chance to travel and see all the places I’ve always wanted.”

  “That’s nice.” Trying to figure out a way to carefully move into a discussion about the divorce papers, he glanced down at the bottle in his hand. “Killian’s?”

  “It’s your favorite.”

  “I thought you hated it.”

  “I do.”

  She grinned as realization sank into him. How had she known he was coming? He shook off the thought. It didn’t matter now. All he cared about was getting out of there with signed papers as soon as possible. Adrian rested her chin in her hand and smiled.

  “So what brings you all the way to New York City? Did you miss me?”

  “You know why I’m here.”

  “I do?”

  “You never show up in Brunswick when you’re supposed to. I figured this was the only way to hold you down in one place long enough to get those papers signed.”

  She walked her fingers across the top of the table toward his hand.

  “Hmm, hold me down. Now that sounds like fun.”

  Her touch on his skin made it prickle. Pulling his hand out from under hers, he popped the top off his beer and took a long gulp. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in her game, or lose his temper.

  “Can we just get this over with? Don’t you think it’s time?”

  She leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you even have time for pleasantries, for old time’s sake?”

  “Come on, Adrian. It’s over between us, and you know it. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. You don’t really want to be married to me anymore. All of these games are just a way for you to enjoy making me suffer.”

  “Fine.” She pushed away from the table and straightened her dress. “I’ll have to go look around the office for the papers. I can’t remember what I did with them.” She walked toward the doorway and glanced back at him as she left. “You might as well come help since you’re in such a hurry.”

  He finished off the last of his beer and followed her down the hallway, trying to ignore the deliberate swing in her hips. Passing through the bedroom, he stepped into a small office that must have been a walk-in closet at one time. A mahogany desk was situated at the back with neatly stacked folders and an open day timer on top. Her computer monitor flashed various headlines across it as a screensaver. He guessed they were ones she’d written.

  “Why don’t you start there.” She pointed to a file cabinet to his left.

  She dipped down behind her desk and shuffled through some papers, while he turned to the cabinet. He had to close the door to pull the drawers open, making the room seem even smaller, and his skin crawled with the sensation of being trapped. He pulled on the top drawer. It didn’t budge.

  “It’s locked.”

  She fished out a set of keys from her briefcase. Instead of tossing them to him, she walked over to the cabinet and reached across him for the lock. She grinned as her arm brushed across his chest, and he tried to step back. Feeling the wall at his back, the hair on his neck stood to attention. This wasn’t good.

  She turned the key, but left it dangling in the lock as she faced him. The familiar aroma of lavender and mint surrounded them. He’d loved the scent that trailed behind her—at least, he used to. Now it sent a shiver up his spine.

  “You’re shaking,” she said, sliding her hands up his chest. “You scared of me?”

  He grabbed her wrists and pushed them back toward her.

  “No. And it’s more of a repulsive shudder.”

  She dropped her chin and batted her eyes, a look that had made him weak in a different lifetime.

  “Come on, Alex. Haven’t you missed me even a little bit?”

  “No. Not lately.”

  She pushed her hands back to his chest and up around the back of his neck, tickling the ends of his hair. As hard he fought it, he couldn’t help the heat stirring within, especially with the view just below his line of sight. After weeks of fighting through his temptations with Lily, his resolve was faltering.

  Lily.

  The thought of her sent a strange mix of guilt and desire through him, and before he could sort out reason from the sensations coursing through him, Adrian pounced. When her lips crushed his, instinct took over, and he pulled her into him like a starving animal diving into a meal. He felt his feet moving, pushing her away and gripping her tight at the same time.

  He had no idea how they wound up on the bed, didn’t care. He just reacted, felt the freight train of adrenaline rush through him and explode. He pushed her arms over her head and dug his hands into hers. He needed to stop. He knew it as sure as he knew he couldn’t.

  God, help me stop.

  He pulled his mouth away from hers, forced himself to take a breath. As the reality of what was happening began to register, a new surge of anger flowed through him. He was an idiot. A hormonal idiot.

  “Don’t stop,” she said, her chest heaving.

  “I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

  “Sure you can. It’s been months.” She leaned up and kissed his neck then ran her hands up his back. When had he lost his shirt?

  “Adrian, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” she breathed into his ear. “I can’t seduce my own husband? You know you want me.”

  She pulled his hips into hers, and it nearly undid him. He did want her, he couldn’t deny it. But the memory of the last time he’d given into her sobered him quickly. He pushed away from her and off the bed.

  “I’m not doing this.”

  He readied himself for the fight he knew was coming, but she laughed instead.

  “Well, well. The great Alex Walker is turning down s
ex. This is new.” She slithered off the bed, straightening her dress and hair. “You must have it bad for your little girlfriend.”

  He tried to catch the look of shock he was sure passed across his face before she could notice, but it was too late. How did she know? She smirked as she walked past him and back into the office.

  “What’s her name again? Daisy or Sunflower or something?”

  “I see you’ve been talking to Chloe.” He reached for his shirt crumpled on the floor and pulled it over his head. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

  “Oh please, Alex. You really think I care about who you’re screwing around with? Although, I do think it’s sad you had to resort to chasing after jailbait.”

  He gritted his teeth and bit back a retort. Stepping into the office doorway, he watched her push some papers around on her desk for a moment.

  “Adrian, what did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?”

  She glanced up at him, but he couldn’t read her. Was it sadness, or just indifference?

  “You were there. I don’t think it’s necessary to rehash everything.”

  He walked over to the desk and leaned toward her, resting his fists on top.

  “I tried everything I could think of. I really did.”

  “Except coming with me.”

  He shook his head. The same old conversation.

  “You had no right to take that job without even talking to me, without even considering-“

  “No right?” She stood and leaned toward him, shooting daggers with her eyes. “I was nothing down at that little Podunk town paper. This was the chance of a lifetime. It was my dream.”

  “And now you have it. Was it worth losing everything else?”

  She pulled back and stared at him for a moment, her face showing no emotion.

  “I’d already lost everything else. It was all I had left.”

  Pain shot through him like an arrow, one he was sure she’d aimed at him.

  “You still had me. And we could have tried again. The doctor said-“

  “I don’t care about what the doctor said. And it doesn’t matter anymore.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I never wanted it anyway.”

  There was no way she could mean that. He remembered the glow in her face at the sound of the fluttering heartbeat, her excitement the first time he could feel movement in her belly. How could a woman so warm with the joy of impending motherhood have turned so hard and uncaring? Tragedy changed a person. He knew that. But shouldn’t he still be able to recognize some part of her?

  She bent over, pulling on the bottom drawer of her desk.

  “Oh, here they are. Silly me. I put them in the junk drawer.” She pulled out a stack of papers and flung them onto the desk then reached for a pen. “You’re sure you want me to sign these?”

  He picked them up and flipped through them to make sure they were the right papers, and then he tossed them back to her.

  “Sign ’em.”

  With her pen in hand, she slowly turned the pages, pretending to read through them. He held his tongue as long as he could, but he felt like his head would explode at any minute.

  “What are you doing? They’ve been the same papers for the past ten months!”

  She ignored him and continued to read through each page. When she finally reached the end, he snatched them up and double checked the signatures to make sure she hadn’t missed any.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Adrian pushed the mouse on her computer and kept her eyes on the monitor as it came to life.

  “Well, you got what you came for. I trust you can show yourself out. I have some work to do.”

  He turned to go, but before he made it out of the bedroom, she called out to him again.

  “Alex, wait. I have something that belongs to you.” She met him at the office doorway with a box wrapped in duct tape.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “Just some of your junk I still had.”

  Getting out of there seemed more important than going through the box, so he took it and left. As he closed the door behind him, a sense of relief washed over him. Finally, after over a year of shattering heartache and guilt, maybe he could get on with his life—a life without the torment of Adrian hanging over him.

  Alex wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom, thankful the shower had washed away the foulness lingering on him from his encounter with Adrian. He’d almost gone too far, and it would have killed any chance he still had with Lily. Thank God he’d come to his senses, and that it was the last time he would have to endure her hatred.

  He looked around the hotel room for the remote to the television, but spotted the box in the chair instead. He debated opening it. No telling what was in there. It was probably best to leave it until later, but the cop in him wouldn’t let it go. He walked over to it and pulled the tape away, pushing the sides back.

  He shuffled through a mound of ripped and gnarled pictures—some from when they were in high school, others from the wedding and their life together. His letters to her from when he’d been stationed overseas briefly were torn and scattered through the box like confetti. It didn’t surprise him in the least, and he was about to take it out to the garbage when one particular photo sucked the air out of his lungs. It was the only one still intact, and it was her last and most effective blow.

  He pulled out the ultrasound photo, the one from her five month check-up, his favorite. The baby’s face was turned toward the camera, tiny legs crossed Indian style. They had laughed so hard that day as the doctor tried to maneuver the camera to see the baby’s gender. It had twisted and rolled all over the place, but they finally caught a quick look.

  He would have had a son.

  “Evan.”

  He rubbed his finger over the face and sat down on the edge of the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to force out the images now roaming through him like a ravenous lion. Adrian crying hysterically. Evan lying lifeless in his arms. The doctor confirming that the cord had strangled him. Only one quiet lullaby before saying goodbye.

  The memories sent him to his knees, broke him again and again, and he shook with anguished sobs.

  August 24

  Birmingham, Alabama

  Lily’s stomach churned and twisted as she stared into the refrigerator. Just the thought of food made her ill. She wished Alex would call already. Waiting was agony. What if Adrian had refused to sign the papers again?

  Guilt washed over her, mixing with the anxiousness already unsettling her stomach. How could she call herself a Christian while she basically cheered on the end of a marriage? This was still so confusing. She couldn’t even talk to anyone about it, especially not anyone from church. She’d tried approaching her Sunday school teacher earlier that morning after class, but she couldn’t force the words out. The truth was, she knew in her heart right from wrong, and nothing could change that.

  Her phone rang in her room, so she closed the refrigerator and left the community living area they shared with Alison. At least she was out to lunch with others from church. Avoiding the topic of Alex all week had been hard, but she’d managed to keep the situation to herself. Well, mostly. Emily sat sideways on her bed with her back against the wall, and she lifted an eyebrow as Lily passed her on the way to the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Alex said.

  In that one simple word she heard a thousand. He was exhausted, beat down. It made her fear double.

  “You’re back. How did it go?”

  “She signed them. It’s over. Now I just have to get them over to my lawyer tomorrow.”

  She sighed in relief, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he seemed so melancholy. She thought he’d be glad, but maybe now he regretted it.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Let’s just say I hope to never see her horrible face again.”

  “What happened?”

  He paused, and she listened to his ragged
breathing. Never had she heard him so shaken. She’d give anything to be able to wrap an arm around him now.

  “Ah, God Lily. I don’t know if I can talk about this.”

  “Maybe it’ll help.”

  More silence followed, and she searched for something to say that might comfort him. But she had no idea what was causing it. So she did the only thing that came to mind.

  “Lord, please be with Alex right now. Whatever hurts, whatever you’re doing in his life, let him know that you’re there, and give him your peace.”

  She sat in silence on her bed and glanced over at Emily. She just stared at the book before her, pretending not to notice. Maybe praying for him would make him feel awkward and push him away, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Thanks,” he said. She could swear she heard a sniffle. “I really needed that.”

  “Alex, what happened?”

  “I didn’t tell you everything. I didn’t think I could talk about it. But maybe…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe you can help me make sense of it.”

  “Of course. I can try.”

  He took a deep breath before continuing. “Adrian got pregnant about a year after we got married.”

  Her stomach lurched. Now there was a child involved? It seemed like there would be no end to the blows to her gut. But she waited and decided to hear him out.

  “I was so excited,” he continued. “She was too. I found us this house right away, and I even fixed up the nursery. Everything was perfect. The baby was perfect, her pregnancy was perfect. And I was getting out of the Marines so we wouldn’t have to worry about moving all the time.”

  “Sounds like you were really happy.”

  “We were. But in the last month, everything changed so fast, I still don’t really know what happened. One minute Adrian’s panicking because she hasn’t felt the baby move in hours, the next minute some doctor’s telling me she can’t find a heartbeat.”

  “Oh Alex. Don’t tell me-“

  “She had to deliver the baby knowing he was already dead.”

  Lily covered her mouth and glanced over at Emily. She shook off her concerned expression.

  Alex cleared his throat again. “It was a boy. Seven pounds exactly. We named him Evan. He was so beautiful. I only got to hold him once, but I remember thinking that he looked like he was sleeping, and if I could just shake him a little bit…”