WHEN I SPOT Cole through the shaded glass, I hesitate at the entrance. Heâs sitting in the back corner with his phone in his hand, looking so handsome in his blue button-up shirt that I want to throw myself into his arms.
Thank God, I chose a Starbucks. I couldnât have met him in a more intimate setting. It would have been too tempting to throw away everything Iâve worked hard for just because heâs beautiful and Iâm horny.
His head jerks up almost as soon as I walk through the door. His gaze moves from the top of my head to my feet, like heâs taking in every detail.
Heâs missed me.
Iâve missed him, too.
Still, I promised myself I would be strong today. I give him only a small smile back.
âYou look handsome,â I say as I pull out the chair across from him. âI forgot you started work this week.â
He glances down at his shirt. âI actually donât have to dress up this much unless Iâm meeting with a client. This was all for you.â
My smile grows. âI love you in blue.â
âI know you do, and Iâm not going to tell you how many different blue shirts I tried on. It would give you secondhand embarrassment.â
I lift a brow. âYou only have like four.â
âOh, but I went shopping for work clothes. I bought at least ten more blue shirts. I was preparing for battle, Olivia Grace.â
When my smile fades, his brows draw together. âSorry,â he says. âThat makes it sound like I want to fight you about everything, and the truth couldnât be further from that.â
âItâs okay. I know you were just teasing. I was more surprised at hearing you call me Olivia.â
His shoulders relax, and he smiles again. My belly flutters. Iâve missed that smile.
âHow is work?â I ask, not ready to dive into everything yet. âIs it okay being around your dad so much?â
âActually, yes. Weâve kind ofâ¦reconciled, I guess.â
âOh, Cole, thatâs amazing.â
When he shuts his eyes for a moment, my stomach plummets.
âWhatâs wrong?â I ask.
He laughs softly and shakes his head. He stares at the wooden table for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet mine. âI love it when you say âOh, Coleâ.â
âDo I say it a lot?â
âNo.â His smile softens. âBut I love it when you do.â
The tenderness in his eyes makes my chest constrict, and I glance down at my lap to collect myself. âI guess we should probably talk about everything.â
He clears his throat, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him straighten his posture. âI have a story to tell you.â
My head jerks up. âA story?â
His smile grows abashed. âI rehearsed itâ
timesâand it still doesnât sound like I want it to. I was hoping I could make it really good and sweep you off your feet.â
I swallow to ease the tightness in my throat. âI donât need a good story. I need a true story.â
âIt is that, and you were there for most of it, so itâs not a new story, but I hope it will give you some perspective on why Iâm such an idiot.â
I frown. âYouâre not an idiot.â
âI am, but I donât think Iâm a hopeless idiot.â He leans forward. âCan I tell you why?â
Goodness, itâs so strange talking to him like this. Heâs being so much more cautious with me than he usually is. âSure.â
He smiles warmly, and my body grows light.
âFive years ago, around the time we met, I was going through a pretty deep depression. I didnât know thatâs what it was at the time. I donât think I really even knew what depression was. Everything looked darker, even my memories. I knew I had been happy at one time, but it felt like that happiness was never real, like it was flimsy. And things that used to make me happy didnât anymore.â
I nod. âThatâs pretty common with depression.â
âI know. You told me that back then. You were the one who helped me figure out I was depressed.
I withdrew from my parents after I caught my dad cheating, and I didnât realize how much it affected me. They were the only people I could talk to, like talk to.â He smiles faintly. âAnd Iâm sure youâve noticed Iâm a pretty sensitive guy, so that was hard.â
Iâm about to speak when his gaze bores into mine, making me forget what I was going to say.
âThen I met you.â His voice grows hushed. âLivvy, Iâm not exaggerating when I say you were like an angel who rescued me. I always call you an angel, because thatâs what you really were to me.
Everything changed after we became friends. The world started looking brighter. I was happy again.â
When my eyes start gathering moisture, I avert my gaze from his. Iâm startled by the warmth of his hand on mine.
âI started to rely on you for happiness. I felt like I couldnât be happy without you, and it made me greedy. I told myself I was protecting you and being a good friend, but really, I was keeping you all to myself, and that wasnât fair.â
I inhale a shaky breath. âYou were young.â
âThatâs not an excuse. You were never greedy with me. You have plenty of other people you share your feelings with. I only had you, and I didnât want anyone else. I needed you more than you needed me, and that was scary.â
I nod jerkily, not knowing what to say.
His gaze darkens. âI was also wildly attracted to you. I would have pursued you, but the more I got to know you, the more I realized how different you were because of your religion. I didnât really understand Christianity before. I thought it just meant going to church once a week and forgetting about it when it was over.â
âThatâs how it is for some people.â
âI know.â His swallow is audible. âIf thatâs all it was for you, I would have pursued you. I could have done that. Iâm not a dogmatic atheist. I couldâve become a Christian if it was just about going to church with you.â
I nod. âYou were really thinking about it back then?â
âNot just thinking about it. I tried it. I went to church for a year when I went away to college.â
My head grows fuzzy, and I stare at his face for a moment. His expression is completely earnest.
âAre you serious?â I ask.
âYeah.â
âFor an entire year?â
âWellâ¦â He smiles faintly. âI didnât go every Sunday, because sometimes I was too hungover.
My pastor even called me out on it one time.â
â
pastor. You actually knew the pastor of the church?â
âI did.â His smile grows. âPastor Jeremy. I canât say I liked him all that much. I probably shouldnât say this about a pastor, but I thought he was kind of a dick.â
An almost hysterical giggle bursts out of my chest. âSome pastors are. The position can attract people who like power, which is why Iâve been on the lookout for a more⦠I donât know⦠unassuming pastor, I guess. What denomination was it?â
âUmâ¦â His brow knits. âWhat you are. Pentecostal.â
My body grows weightless. Jesus, I canât believe he did all this. He went to church for year. He found one in my denomination. He knew his pastor.
All for me.
âWhy did you go?â I ask, even though I already know.
âI was trying to become the type of guy you wanted, but ultimately, I realized I couldnât. It just wasnât for me, and I knew you would see right through me if I pretended like it was.â
My throat grows so tight I can hardly speak. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
He hesitates for a moment. âI was terrified of how disappointed youâd be if you knew I didnât like it, because it means so much to you.â
My eyes prickle. âI guess I was pretty judgmental back then.â
âNo.â His tone is firm. âI never felt judged by you. I didnât go to church because I had any fear you didnât accept me as I was. I just wanted to become what you needed. Because I loved you, Livvy. I love you now, and Iâll love you forever. You were right that I put you on hold. I wanted you all to myself, because I was so scared of what would happen if I let you go, which is why thereâs only one way to make amends.â He swallows. âI have to let you go now.â
When my mouth falls open, he averts his gaze. âI hope itâs not forever. If I had my way, it wouldnât be for very long at all, but this isnât about me.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âI came here today to let you know that Iâm on hold for you. Do whatever you need to do to break out of your shell. You told me youâve lived small because of me, and I want to show you that I donât want that at all. I want you to live a full life, even if it scares me. If you need to make out with other guys andâ¦sleep around and experiment with your sexualityâ¦â He exhales an unsteady breath. âI mean, Iâm not going to lie, I hate even thinking about it, but Iâll understand if thatâs what you need to do. Obviously, I shouldnât be around for it, since Iâve proven that I have no chill. But Iâll be waiting.
Iâll be on hold for you.â His voice shakes. âIâll be on hold forever if I need to be. Thereâs no one in the world for me but you.â
My heart is so light and airy, it could carry me to the sky. I want to tell him I donât want any of that. That I love him too much to make him prove himself. But that would be going back to my old pattern of giving him whatever he wants the moment he wants it.
For five whole years, Iâve accepted whatever I could get from him, as if it were all I deserved. If weâre going to have a prayer of making it long term, I have to change the old patterns now. I need to prove to him that Iâm no longer his angel, ready to fly in and rescue him from even the slightest turmoil.
Or maybe I need to prove it to myself.
âI have a lot to think about,â I say.
His eyes alight. âDoes that mean⦠You think you might take me off hold eventually?â
The hope in his voice makes my heart flutter. âDid you think I wouldnât even consider it?â
He exhales an unsteady breath. âI donât know what I thought. Iâve been so scared that I fucked everything up for good.â When he lifts up his hand and holds it in front of me, his fingers are shaking.
Jesus, give me strength. I donât want him to be this scared. Do I really need him to prove himself?
Yes.
Iâm not submissive any longer, at least not outside of the bedroom. I can do this.
I can make my own demands.
âI donât really like the idea of keeping you on hold indefinitely,â I say. âThat would make me selfish.â
He smiles warmly. âYou deserve to be selfish for once.â
I shake my head. âWhat if we use my impurity contract deadline? What if we decide to meet on September seventeenth, and we can talk again then?â
His swallow is audible. âYou mean likeâ¦youâll give me a definite answer? A yes or no forever?â
When I nod, he inhales deeply and runs a hand through his hair. âSure. Whatever you want. Iâm not going to lie though, the thought of getting a no from you is terrifying.â He laughs humorlessly. âI think Iâd rather just live in blissful ignorance.â
âBut itâs healthier for both of us if you donât.â
His gaze grows unfocused as it roams the surface of the table. âSo weâll meet up again on September seventeenth, and youâll tell me how you feel?â
âThat will be our deadline,â I say. âIf I come up with an answer for you before then, Iâll come to you.â
He releases an almost hysterical laugh. âWow, you really want to torture me, donât you?â
I smile sadly. âNo, I donât. What I want to do is give you everything you need to make you feel better, but I have to do whatâs best for me.â
âIâm glad youâre standing up for yourself.â
He doesnât sound the least bit glad, and his expression grows so desolately melancholy that I want to set my hand on his arm like I usually do. I may always be this soft on the inside, but I donât have to let it guide my choices.
Not when my will is iron.
âWHY WOULD you wait until September seventeenth if you already know what you want right now?â Mari asks.
âI agree,â Vanessa says, lifting both hands and brushing away the flyaway strands of hair blowing frantically over her heart-shaped face. âThe date seems pointless now, like youâre just trying to make Cole suffer.â
I look away from both of them, not ready to talk about this just yet. Itâs been twenty-two days since I last saw Cole. Despite my vow to go out and have adventures, these have been some of the dullest weeks of my lifeâfull of morning prayer walks and late-night journal sessions. We were invited out by Travis and a few friends, but I declined. I didnât want to give him any false hope.
After being with Cole, I realized how impossible it would be to start anything with Travis. There was no spark there, nothing that could ever come close to the inferno that engulfed me when Cole so much as looked at me.
The most partying Iâve done is drinking a bottle of wine with Mari, but instead of going out to the bars afterward, we lay on her bed and binged all the John Wick movies.
It turns out that dullness was what I needed. I donât need to face the fear of putting myself out there anymore.
Thatâs no longer my biggest fear.
My purity ring is pinched between my fingers, and I press it firmly into the wet sand, leaving behind a circular imprint.
âMaybe I should bury it,â I say.
Without seeing Mariâs face, I know sheâs rolling her eyes at me. âWhy donât you just keep it, since you obviously donât want to get rid of it?â
âBurying it is a happy medium. I can bury it now and come back in a couple of years and dig it up.
Iâll bring some of my old prayer journals and reflect on the person I used to be and how much Iâve changed. Iâll toss it in the water then if Iâm ready.â
Mariâs bare feet step into my view. âDo you know how sand works? Youâll never find it again. If you want to be able to dig it up, you need to bury it in your backyard.â
âOr donât do anything with it,â Vanessa says. âKeep it in your tin box.â
Mari plops down next to me. âI second that. Itâs clearly important to you, and why wouldnât it be?
It shaped who you are, and I happen to adore who you are. I wouldnât change a thing about you.â
âI wouldnât either, Livvy.â
Mari sets her hand on my shoulder. âWe donât get to go and pick and choose the parts of ourselves we want to keep. Thatâs the shitty part about trauma. Itâll always be with you, even when the pain of it is gone.â
Small grains of sand scrape against my finger as I slip the ring back on. âThe sad thing is that I donât even see this ring as trauma. I know, in theory, those purity conferences were toxic, but looking back, theyâre happy memories. Do you feel that way too, Mari, or am I crazy?â
Her brow knits and her gaze grows unfocused. âI hardly even remember them.â
I glance out at the water. âI guess I deal with trauma differently, because Iâm getting warm and fuzzy just thinking about them. Weâd take the First Covenant bus to LA with the whole youth group.
Weâd be in those big auditoriums with hundreds of other weirdo evangelical kids, which made me feel way more normal. When I look at it nowâ¦â I glance down at my ring. âI feel nostalgia.â
Mari looks at me incredulously. âWhich is a positive emotion.â
âYeah.â
âSo why do you want get rid of it?â
âKeep it for nostalgiaâs sake,â Vanessa says. âWhy bury it? Just put away somewhere and pull it out when you want to do some reflecting.â
âI feel like the fact that I canât get rid of it means something ominous. I was able to burn my letter to my future husband. I was able to end my friendship with the man I love. Why canât I toss this ring?â
I shake my head. âI think itâs a sign that Iâm not ready to change. If I take Cole off hold, Iâm going to make him my whole world again. Iâll make my needs secondary to his. Even if heâs changing, Iâm scared that I wonât. I donât think he ever meant for me to be submissive to him. I did it all on my own.
What if I do it again?â
Vanessa stares at me for a moment, her dark brows drawing together. âThatâs the dumbest fucking thing Iâve ever heard.â
Mariâs eyes grow wide. She looks away and drops her gaze to the sand, as if giving us privacy.
I pin my sister with a glare. âExcuse me?â
She softens her voice. âWhy are you being so black and white about this when youâve probably told me a million times in just the last month that you donât think in black and white anymore?â
An electrical current runs over my skin. Holy shit, sheâs right. How am I still doing this without even realizing it?
I guess black-and-white thinking is my default when Iâm afraid.
âYouâre not deciding your whole future,â Vanessa says. âYouâre not picking out who youâre going to be for the rest of your life. Youâre choosing what you want right now, and you already know what you want.â
My throat grows too tight to speak. I swallow to ease it away. âI do.â