WHEN I SPOT Cole through the shaded glass, I hesitate at the entrance. He’s 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 couldn’t have met him in a more intimate setting. It would have been too tempting to throw away everything I’ve worked hard for just because he’s beautiful and I’m 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 he’s taking in every detail.
He’s missed me.
I’ve missed him, too.
Still, I promised myself I would be strong today. I give him only a small smile back.
“You look handsome,” I say as I pull out the chair across from him. “I forgot you started work this week.”
He glances down at his shirt. “I actually don’t have to dress up this much unless I’m meeting with a client. This was all for you.”
My smile grows. “I love you in blue.”
“I know you do, and I’m not going to tell you how many different blue shirts I tried on. It would give you secondhand embarrassment.”
I lift a brow. “You only have like four.”
“Oh, but I went shopping for work clothes. I bought at least ten more blue shirts. I was preparing for battle, Olivia Grace.”
When my smile fades, his brows draw together. “Sorry,” he says. “That makes it sound like I want to fight you about everything, and the truth couldn’t be further from that.”
“It’s okay. I know you were just teasing. I was more surprised at hearing you call me Olivia.”
His shoulders relax, and he smiles again. My belly flutters. I’ve missed that smile.
“How is work?” I ask, not ready to dive into everything yet. “Is it okay being around your dad so much?”
“Actually, yes. We’ve kind of…reconciled, I guess.”
“Oh, Cole, that’s amazing.”
When he shuts his eyes for a moment, my stomach plummets.
“What’s wrong?” 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. “I love it when you say ‘Oh, Cole’.”
“Do I say it a lot?”
“No.” His smile softens. “But I love it when you do.”
The tenderness in his eyes makes my chest constrict, and I glance down at my lap to collect myself. “I guess we should probably talk about everything.”
He clears his throat, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him straighten his posture. “I have a story to tell you.”
My head jerks up. “A story?”
His smile grows abashed. “I rehearsed it— many times—and it still doesn’t sound like I want it to. I was hoping I could make it really good and sweep you off your feet.”
I swallow to ease the tightness in my throat. “I don’t need a good story. I need a true story.”
“It is that, and you were there for most of it, so it’s not a new story, but I hope it will give you some perspective on why I’m such an idiot.”
I frown. “You’re not an idiot.”
“I am, but I don’t think I’m a hopeless idiot.” He leans forward. “Can I tell you why?”
Goodness, it’s so strange talking to him like this. He’s being so much more cautious with me than he usually is. “Sure.”
He smiles warmly, and my body grows light.
“Five years ago, around the time we met, I was going through a pretty deep depression. I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time. I don’t 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 didn’t anymore.”
I nod. “That’s pretty common with depression.”
“I 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 didn’t realize how much it affected me. They were the only people I could talk to, like really talk to.” He smiles faintly. “And I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m a pretty sensitive guy, so that was hard.”
I’m about to speak when his gaze bores into mine, making me forget what I was going to say.
“Then I met you.” His voice grows hushed. “Livvy, I’m not exaggerating when I say you were like an angel who rescued me. I always call you an angel, because that’s what you really were to me.
Everything changed after we became friends. The world started looking brighter. I was happy again.”
When my eyes start gathering moisture, I avert my gaze from his. I’m startled by the warmth of his hand on mine.
“I started to rely on you for happiness. I felt like I couldn’t 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 wasn’t fair.”
I inhale a shaky breath. “You were young.”
“That’s 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 didn’t want anyone else. I needed you more than you needed me, and that was scary.”
I nod jerkily, not knowing what to say.
His gaze darkens. “I 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 didn’t really understand Christianity before. I thought it just meant going to church once a week and forgetting about it when it was over.”
“That’s how it is for some people.”
“I know.” His swallow is audible. “If that’s all it was for you, I would have pursued you. I could have done that. I’m not a dogmatic atheist. I could’ve become a Christian if it was just about going to church with you.”
I nod. “You were really thinking about it back then?”
“Not just thinking about it. I tried it. I went to church for a year when I went away to college.”
My head grows fuzzy, and I stare at his face for a moment. His expression is completely earnest.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
“For an entire year?”
“Well…” He smiles faintly. “I didn’t go every Sunday, because sometimes I was too hungover.
My pastor even called me out on it one time.”
“Your pastor. You actually knew the pastor of the church?”
“I did.” His smile grows. “Pastor Jeremy. I can’t say I liked him all that much. I probably shouldn’t say this about a pastor, but I thought he was kind of a dick.”
An almost hysterical giggle bursts out of my chest. “Some pastors are. The position can attract people who like power, which is why I’ve been on the lookout for a more… I don’t know… unassuming pastor, I guess. What denomination was it?”
“Um…” His brow knits. “What you are. Pentecostal.”
My body grows weightless. Jesus, I can’t believe he did all this. He went to church for year. He found one in my denomination. He knew his pastor. All for me.
“Why did you go?” I ask, even though I already know.
“I was trying to become the type of guy you wanted, but ultimately, I realized I couldn’t. It just wasn’t for me, and I knew you would see right through me if I pretended like it was.”
My throat grows so tight I can hardly speak. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He hesitates for a moment. “I was terrified of how disappointed you’d be if you knew I didn’t like it, because it means so much to you.”
My eyes prickle. “I guess I was pretty judgmental back then.”
“No.” His tone is firm. “I never felt judged by you. I didn’t go to church because I had any fear you didn’t accept me as I was. I just wanted to become what you needed. Because I loved you, Livvy. I love you now, and I’ll 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 there’s only one way to make amends.” He swallows. “I have to let you go now.”
When my mouth falls open, he averts his gaze. “I hope it’s not forever. If I had my way, it wouldn’t be for very long at all, but this isn’t about me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I came here today to let you know that I’m on hold for you. Do whatever you need to do to break out of your shell. You told me you’ve lived small because of me, and I want to show you that I don’t 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 and…sleep around and experiment with your sexuality…” He exhales an unsteady breath. “I mean, I’m not going to lie, I hate even thinking about it, but I’ll understand if that’s what you need to do. Obviously, I shouldn’t be around for it, since I’ve proven that I have no chill. But I’ll be waiting.
I’ll be on hold for you.” His voice shakes. “I’ll be on hold forever if I need to be. There’s no one in the world for me but you.”
My heart is so light and airy, it could carry me to the sky. I want to tell him I don’t 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, I’ve accepted whatever I could get from him, as if it were all I deserved. If we’re 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 I’m 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.
“I have a lot to think about,” I say.
His eyes alight. “Does that mean… You think you might take me off hold eventually?”
The hope in his voice makes my heart flutter. “Did you think I wouldn’t even consider it?”
He exhales an unsteady breath. “I don’t know what I thought. I’ve been so scared that I fucked everything up for good.” When he lifts up his hand and holds it in front of me, his fingers are shaking.
Jesus, give me strength. I don’t want him to be this scared. Do I really need him to prove himself?
Yes.
I’m not submissive any longer, at least not outside of the bedroom. I can do this.
I can make my own demands.
“I don’t really like the idea of keeping you on hold indefinitely,” I say. “That would make me selfish.”
He smiles warmly. “You deserve to be selfish for once.”
I shake my head. “What if we use my impurity contract deadline? What if we decide to meet on September seventeenth, and we can talk again then?”
His swallow is audible. “You mean like…you’ll give me a definite answer? A yes or no forever?”
When I nod, he inhales deeply and runs a hand through his hair. “Sure. Whatever you want. I’m not going to lie though, the thought of getting a no from you is terrifying.” He laughs humorlessly. “I think I’d rather just live in blissful ignorance.”
“But it’s healthier for both of us if you don’t.”
His gaze grows unfocused as it roams the surface of the table. “So we’ll meet up again on September seventeenth, and you’ll tell me how you feel?”
“That will be our deadline,” I say. “If I come up with an answer for you before then, I’ll come to you.”
He releases an almost hysterical laugh. “Wow, you really want to torture me, don’t you?”
I smile sadly. “No, I don’t. What I want to do is give you everything you need to make you feel better, but I have to do what’s best for me.”
“I’m glad you’re standing up for yourself.”
He doesn’t 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 don’t have to let it guide my choices.
Not when my will is iron.
“WHY WOULD you wait until September seventeenth if you already know what you want right now?” Mari asks.
“I agree,” Vanessa says, lifting both hands and brushing away the flyaway strands of hair blowing frantically over her heart-shaped face. “The date seems pointless now, like you’re just trying to make Cole suffer.”
I look away from both of them, not ready to talk about this just yet. It’s 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 life—full of morning prayer walks and late-night journal sessions. We were invited out by Travis and a few friends, but I declined. I didn’t 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 I’ve 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 don’t need to face the fear of putting myself out there anymore.
That’s 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.
“Maybe I should bury it,” I say.
Without seeing Mari’s face, I know she’s rolling her eyes at me. “Why don’t you just keep it, since you obviously don’t want to get rid of it?”
“Burying it is a happy medium. I can bury it now and come back in a couple of years and dig it up.
I’ll bring some of my old prayer journals and reflect on the person I used to be and how much I’ve changed. I’ll toss it in the water then if I’m ready.”
Mari’s bare feet step into my view. “Do you know how sand works? You’ll never find it again. If you want to be able to dig it up, you need to bury it in your backyard.”
“Or don’t do anything with it,” Vanessa says. “Keep it in your tin box.”
Mari plops down next to me. “I second that. It’s clearly important to you, and why wouldn’t it be?
It shaped who you are, and I happen to adore who you are. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“I wouldn’t either, Livvy.”
Mari sets her hand on my shoulder. “We don’t get to go and pick and choose the parts of ourselves we want to keep. That’s the shitty part about trauma. It’ll always be with you, even when the pain of it is gone.”
Small grains of sand scrape against my finger as I slip the ring back on. “The sad thing is that I don’t even see this ring as trauma. I know, in theory, those purity conferences were toxic, but looking back, they’re happy memories. Do you feel that way too, Mari, or am I crazy?”
Her brow knits and her gaze grows unfocused. “I hardly even remember them.”
I glance out at the water. “I guess I deal with trauma differently, because I’m getting warm and fuzzy just thinking about them. We’d take the First Covenant bus to LA with the whole youth group.
We’d be in those big auditoriums with hundreds of other weirdo evangelical kids, which made me feel way more normal. When I look at it now…” I glance down at my ring. “I feel nostalgia.”
Mari looks at me incredulously. “Which is a positive emotion.”
“Yeah.”
“So why do you want get rid of it?”
“Keep it for nostalgia’s sake,” Vanessa says. “Why bury it? Just put away somewhere and pull it out when you want to do some reflecting.”
“I feel like the fact that I can’t 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 can’t I toss this ring?”
I shake my head. “I think it’s a sign that I’m not ready to change. If I take Cole off hold, I’m going to make him my whole world again. I’ll make my needs secondary to his. Even if he’s changing, I’m scared that I won’t. I don’t think he ever meant for me to be submissive to him. I did it all on my own.
What if I do it again?”
Vanessa stares at me for a moment, her dark brows drawing together. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”
Mari’s 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. “Excuse me?”
She softens her voice. “Why are you being so black and white about this when you’ve probably told me a million times in just the last month that you don’t think in black and white anymore?”
An electrical current runs over my skin. Holy shit, she’s right. How am I still doing this without even realizing it?
I guess black-and-white thinking is my default when I’m afraid.
“You’re not deciding your whole future,” Vanessa says. “You’re not picking out who you’re going to be for the rest of your life. You’re choosing what you want right now, and you already know what you want.”
My throat grows too tight to speak. I swallow to ease it away. “I do.”
