Even If

by Bethany Riehl

  “What is this? Some crazy mind game? If you think moving out will make me marry you or something, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  The memory of Drew’s words the day she moved came at her in a rush. Before her mom and her friend’s had arrived to help, Drew had stood in the bedroom doorway and watched her pack.

  “Is that seriously why you think I’m moving, Drew?”

  “You can’t possibly think any other man will want you, Lee.”

  Lillian closed her eyes tight against the words and a torrent of other memories. Steamy kisses, vicious fights, misunderstandings…the day she found him in bed with Hilary. All of it swirled around her in a rush, taunting her earlier peace.

  “Whoa, Lil, you okay?” Tiffany asked, one arm on her shoulder.

  Tears squeezed out of Lillian’s eyes. She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. Suddenly two sets of arms wrapped around her from either side. She peeked through blurry eyes to find Tiffany on her left side, Grace on her right—both squeezed tight against her on the narrow chair. Lillian took a shuddering breath and shook her head again, offering a self-deprecating laugh.

  “I have no idea what came over me. I’m sorry. I just—” she hesitated. What would they think of her if she told them? Sure, they knew about her past, but the details—and the fact that they haunted her—were raw and real. It was easy to vaguely refer to her past indecency, but the reality of her memories made her active participation all too real.

  “Hey, Lilly?” Tiffany spoke low, her forehead against Lillian’s temple. “This is a safe space. You can talk to us if you want to.”

  Grace squeezed her arm, and Lillian spilled it all. The memories, the shame, the nights that she spent praying for God to erase it all, to forgive her transgressions and let her move on.

  She told them about Chuck’s kiss and how she’d shoved him away. How he continued to pursue her, complimenting her, telling her none of it mattered to him. That he cared for her—really cared. But still, she pushed him away.

  She sniffed and rubbed her nose. “And tonight, Grace, when you told us that God doesn’t define us by our past sin, I felt such an amazing peace. And hope. But for some reason when Tiffany was talking just now, it all came rushing in again. Just a crazy torrent of dreams and memories. I want them out,” she growled in frustration, grabbing at the hair on either side of her skull and squeezing the roots.

  Grace nodded knowingly. “I understand, Lillian. I think when we choose to follow Christ, to change our lives for Him, it’s difficult on a multitude of levels. It’s not some easy breezy road. And should it be? Our very nature was steeped in sin”—Grace gestured to herself and Tiffany— “all of us have sinned in a variety of ways. But when we give our lives to Jesus, He offers us a new nature. We’re new creatures. The enemy hates that, so he gets in our head. He would have us believe that we’re still the old person, but we’re not. We’re new. The Bible tells us so, and we can trust it more than our feelings, our nightmares, or our thoughts. I would love to pray with you as you fight this battle for your heart, Lilly.”

  Tiffany straightened. “Me too.”

  Lillian felt her face crumble, and all she could do was nod and sniffle as the two women prayed with her, wrapping her in their friendship. When they whispered “amen,” Lillian offered one last most-unladylike snuffle, to which they easily slipped from highly emotional to irrevocably silly. Lillian’s giggles were quenched, however, when Tiffany threw in one last amendment to their prayer:

  “And, Lord, please show Lillian how much Chuck cares for her and grant her the freedom to love him back. And go right on kissing him. Amen.”

  “Amen!” Grace punctuated.

  Lillian stood abruptly, gathering their empty glasses from the farm table and headed toward the roof door. “Who needs more iced tea?” she asked, ignoring the triumphant giggles of the women she was blessed to call friends.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Grace had a morning flight, and Tiffany had offered to drive her to the airport. Lillian would have slept in after the late—and emotionally charged—evening, but knew the best place to reflect on all that Grace had said was at church. She hugged Grace good-bye and thanked her for everything. Tiffany emerged from the bathroom, toweling her wet hair, and promised to meet Lillian after church to return her key. Lillian closed the door, happy to leave the two friends to finish getting ready in her apartment.

  She sauntered down the stairs, her steps light. She took to heart the encouragement from her friends to accept God’s grace and move on. But she still planned to avoid the teens—and Katrina—at church. Yup, that morning, she would sit with the big kids. The elevator doors swished open as she passed through the lobby, and Chuck called out just as she reached to push open the outside door.

  “There was an awful lot of giggling going on over at your place this weekend,” Chuck commented, catching up with her.

  They stepped out onto the sidewalk, but Lillian stopped to look up at him. “Yeah, sorry about that. We started out on the roof, but once the mosquitos got bad we had to come downstairs again. But I’m not too sorry; we had fun,” she smiled, blushing at the thought of him hearing more from his side of the wall than just giggling. The list of reasons she should date Chuck had continued late into the night, no matter how many times she’d shushed her friends.

  “Grace is amazing. I’m really glad she came this weekend, and that she stayed with me.” Lillian averted her eyes, then met his gaze again. “I think I’m finally starting to grasp some things the Lord has been trying to teach me in the last few months.”

  “I’m glad. Grace has always been good at saying it like it is. I had no doubt you two would get along.”

  They faced off, silent. Smiling. Hopeful. Lillian cleared her throat and continued walking. Chuck hesitated a heartbeat before following.

  “I’m not leading worship for the youth today. I thought maybe you could join me for the adult service.”

  Lillian turned half around to make eye contact. “That would be great—I was planning to go to the adult service, too.” She continued walking, but couldn’t tear herself away from the calm blue of his eyes. Her stomach fluttered and dropped. How this man could hook her with one look was—

  Chuck’s eyes widened, and one of his hands flew up. “Watch it!”

  Lillian rotated and smacked into the glass door of the restaurant next door—the door that had suddenly opened onto the sidewalk and into her face. A portly older man with a cleaning cart stared at her through the glass from the other side, his eyes rounded in horror.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” In his panic, the man tried to squeeze between the cart and the door instead of moving the cart out of the way, successfully smacking Lillian for a second time with the glass.

  “Oh, ow,” she scrunched her face and pulled back a step, hands coming up to stop the throbbing in her nose.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the man, finally on the sidewalk, his cart pushed back inside, continued to babble as the door whispered shut behind him.

  Oh, sure, it closed soft…

  “No, I wasn’t watching. It’s my fault.” It was true; the first time the door hit her, she’d been ogling Chuck and deserved the full-frontal attack. Of course, it hadn’t hurt this bad until the door clipped her nose the second time. Both men watched her in concern, Chuck’s hand holding her upper arm.

  “I’m okay, really,” Lillian rolled her lips inward, trying to release the intense pressure on the bridge of her nose. She felt a gush of warm, sticky liquid drip over her lips and onto her chin. Perfect. She cupped her hand under her nose and ducked her head in embarrassment.

  “Um, I’m just going to—”

  Lillian turned away and walked back into the building, Chuck on her heels. From her peripheral vision, she watched him pull his polo shirt off over his head. He tugged the undershirt he wore down to cover his exposed midsection with one hand as he handed Lillian his shirt with the other. If she weren’t suffering from pain and
embarrassment, she might have been swoony over that flash of taut, tanned skin.

  “Put this on it,” he said, voice raspy.

  She would have protested but didn’t want to leave a trail of blood through the lobby. She took it, promising herself she would buy him a new shirt. As they climbed the stairs in silence, Lillian couldn’t decide if the quiver in her stomach was from embarrassment or from the way that Chuck rested his hand protectively against the small of her back.

  They rounded the corner on their floor just as Grace stepped into the hallway, pulling her rolling suitcase behind her. Tiffany stepped out after her and turned to lock the door.

  “Hold up, Tiff,” Chuck called out. The strain in his voice pulled Lillian’s eyes to his for a moment. She swept them away again, dazed by the storm playing across his features.

  Tiffany and Grace turned to them in surprise, the smiles falling from their faces when they saw Lillian. She shook her head and tried to assure them that she was fine, but the metallic taste of blood in her mouth stopped her. She gestured vaguely for Chuck to explain and slipped into the apartment, and walked straight to her bathroom, barely registering the low hum of his voice. A few seconds later, Grace and Tiffany called their goodbyes, and she mumbled a response, glad to be alone.

  It took a while to get the bleeding to stop. Lillian had only had a few bloody noses in her life. The way the sticky liquid clogged up her throat made her nauseated. Finally, she found the right amount of pressure and it stopped. She washed her face and considered the damage in the mirror. A jagged cut across the bridge of her nose promised to cause her embarrassment for the next few days at least. Didn’t people get black eyes when they hit their noses? Or was that only if the nose was broken? Nothing she could do about it either way. At least the cut wasn’t very deep—more of a scrape, really. She must have hit the metal frame around the glass just right. As she examined it, a colorful sticky note in the top right corner of the mirror caught her eye.

  You are loved by the Lord. He is great and worthy to be praised! Bask in His care for you!

  Lillian smiled and placed a hand over her heart. Sweet friends. She turned to her closet, heart full. The note would stay right there. She could use the daily reminder. Another had been placed on the door leading from the bathroom to her closet. More of the same encouragements to reflect on. She slid a pair of jean shorts over her hips and selected a cotton shirt from a hanger, thinking that as long as she wasn’t going to be able to make it to church, she could go for a nice summer morning drive. She walked into her bedroom to find a colorful array of notes all over the room. She read them as she passed, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous ones.

  God loves you! And so does Chuck ;)

  Let go of your past…and grab on to Chuck!

  Lillian snorted to herself, immediately regretting it when her nose stung in protest. That one had Tiffany written all over it. She walked into the living room and stopped short. Chuck stood in front of the bookshelf just outside of her bedroom door, facing her, eyes scanning the titles of books that were eye level with him. His hands were shoved in his pockets.

  “I, uh, thought you went to church,” Lillian stammered, her cheeks growing warm when he assessed her cut.

  “I didn’t want to leave until I was sure you were okay,” he answered. His eyes lingered on hers, eating up every inch of her face, tripping over the cut on her nose on their way back to her eyes. “Are you? Okay?” he asked, his voice husky.

  Lillian rubbed the spot on her nose self-consciously. “My pride is more bruised than anything else. I’m good, though.”

  Chuck turned back to the bookshelf, his eyes crinkling in a mischievous smile. With a sinking feeling, Lillian took two steps to stand next to him, and followed his gaze—to the shelves covered in teasing, encouraging, humiliating notes…most referencing the man standing next to her.

  “Good gravy, I leave two gals in my apartment for a few measly minutes and they trash the place.”

  “Trash? That’s quality literature right there.”

  She offered a noncommittal grunt.

  He winked. “You know…they have a point.”

  The notes on the bookshelf increased in their sauciness. What were they thinking putting those ones out in the open? Between the good-natured suggestions, and that endearing floppy grin of his, a bubble of laughter floated up from deep in her belly. Her eyes left his and roamed the colorful collection of notes. Tiffany and Grace had covered plenty of material in a short amount of time—they must have made a stock pile of notes while she was in the shower. The stack of leftover sticky notes and pen was left on one of the shelves. She made a move to put them away when Chuck cleared his throat. She turned toward him again—and saw a bright orange square of paper in his hand.

  “This one’s my favorite,” he said,holding it up for her to read.Lilly, I think you’re incredible, and I want to cherish you. To show you what a real, God-honoring relationship can be like. Give me a chance?

  The smile fell from her face. She looked from the note in his hands to the warmth in his eyes. Her mouth went dry. “Chuck…I just. I guess I still can’t wrap my mind around…I mean, why me?”

  “Lilly…I have been drawn to you from the moment I met you. You care deeply for others; you seek to honor the Lord in all that you do. I love your sense of humor. You have a great laugh. You listen to, and try to understand, the loss in my life. You make me think; you challenge me. And when I’m with you I don’t want to be anywhere else. When I’m not with you, I’m thinking of you and making up excuses to talk to you…you are so incredibly easy to like.”

  The storm in his eyes weighted her legs and arms. Everything she’d shared with Tiffany and Grace—their prayers and encouragement, her hesitant realization that she was forgiven and new—pulled at her. And, well, when Chuck put it that way…

  With slow movements she shuffled one step forward, and reached out to pluck down a note that was high on the shelf near his shoulder. She turned it toward him with trembling fingers.

  ***

  Chuck’s breath stumbled at her nearness. That heady fragrance of hers swirled around him and lingered when she stepped back to show him the note she’d chosen.

  Today is a good day to say yes to new beginnings—and to kissing Chuck. Wink, wink.

  Chuck’s stomach gave a slow roll. “That is some sound logic right there.”

  She lifted one shoulder, her pink lips curling to one side. “You are a logical man.”

  As he’d been eager to reprise since he’d allowed himself the pleasure weeks before, and since her withdraw earlier that week, he slid a hand over her hip and around her back, drawing her close. The warmth of her nearness settled around him, and he drank it in.

  Chuck edged as near as he could without their lips touching and paused, appreciating the warmth that radiated between them. Lillian’s face was scrubbed clean, the small cut on her nose surprisingly charming. Only not so surprising since this woman couldn’t do a single thing to her physical appearance to decrease his attraction. He had been very deliberate not to include her beauty in the list of her attractive qualities. Beauty was fleeting. But a woman who loved the Lord, as she did…that was what mattered to him. Her beauty was just a bonus.

  Chuck tugged on the lock of hair framing her cheek, ran his fingers down the silky strands before settling his hand on the side of her neck. He brushed her lips with his, softly; savoring. Her hand slid the length of his chest and stopped over his heart.

  She could shave off all her hair; he imagined her head was adorable under those auburn layers. His other hand came behind her back, fisting the bottom of her shirt when she deepened the kiss. He pressed closer—to her, to the dreams she was stirring in him.

  She could grow old, her smooth face dissolving into a wrinkly canvas of triumphs and tragedies, and he would bless the days he lived with her to watch it happen.

  She was oxygen after a deep swim, budding spring after a long winter, the first laugh breaking free from
a grief shattered heart.

  She was home.

  Slowly, he pulled back from her kisses, lingering for one or two more before breaking away completely and letting go of her shirt, his hands cupping her sides, thumbs just under her ribs.

  She could gain fifty pounds; he wouldn’t care—more to hold on to.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed, enjoying the way she seemed to be struggling for air as much as he was.

  When he finally looked at her, there was a mixture of pleasure and worry in her eyes. Her acceptance of him was a start. But only that. He had his work cut out for him.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead and stepped back, pulling his hands from her waist and reaching to entwine her fingers with his.

  “And that, my beautiful Lilly, is the last time I will let myself kiss you behind closed doors.”

  She blinked. Then a slow smile worked into her features, easing the lines of doubt. That mask of peace—and the knowledge that his words put it there—took his breath away. He asked her to join him for brunch, knowing if he didn’t get a table in between them quick, he was going to break the promise five seconds after he’d made it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Chuck, you and I work together. What if things get weird?” Lillian took a bite of her blackberry French toast and watched him expectantly.

  They sat on the second story balcony of a French Bistro a few blocks over from their building. The tables were covered in crisp white tablecloths and small vases in a variety of colors, fresh cut daisies adorning each one. A light breeze stopped by for a visit, flirting with her hair and dancing with the daisies and tablecloths before it moved on.