Not Until You (Hope Springs Book 3)

by Valerie M. Bodden

Chapter 34

  Violet faltered as the auditorium door slammed. She tried to convince herself Nate had to use the restroom, but the way he’d plowed through the students told her otherwise. She’d obviously said something to upset him. She should have warned him that she’d be dwelling a lot on her past with Cade in her talk. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want a future with him.

  She forced herself to keep talking, to tell the students that every choice they made had the potential to affect not only themselves but also the lives of people they’d never met, people they might never meet.

  As she brought her talk to a close, the auditorium was silent, and nearly every student was either looking at her or looking into their laps. Several were wiping their eyes, and tears sprang to hers as well at the thought that maybe she had impacted them, at least in some small way.

  Mr. Jessup came up beside her and spoke into the microphone. “Thank you for sharing your story, Violet. I remember Cade very well, and I know I speak for everyone who knew him when I say we all miss him and we’re so sorry for your loss.” He laid a hand on her arm. “Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions from our students?”

  Violet’s stomach dropped. Giving her prepared speech had been hard enough. But live questions were another thing altogether―what if she didn’t have the answers?

  But the whole room was silent, and Violet felt like the students were waiting for her. She nodded mutely.

  A few hands went up across the auditorium, and Violet pointed to a young girl near the back.

  The girl stood. “What happened to the driver who hit your husband?”

  Violet closed her eyes. She’d left that out on purpose. She didn’t like to think about it. But these kids deserved to know what could happen. She made herself look at the student who had asked. “Unfortunately, he was killed in the accident as well.”

  A collective gasp went up from the students.

  “Someone said to me afterward that I must be glad about that.” Violet’s chest tightened at the memory as she scanned the room filled with kids the same age as the boy who had died with Cade. “How could I be glad that alcohol had taken another life? That’s not what Cade would have wanted, and it’s not what I wanted, either.”

  She gave the students a second to digest her answer, then pointed to a boy closer to the front.

  “If the other guy had survived, would you have been able to forgive him?”

  Violet pondered the question. She’d wrestled with the issue of forgiveness so many times. “Just because he died doesn’t mean I don’t need to forgive him,” she finally said. “It took me a long time to see that I was holding onto my resentment and anger toward this kid. I didn’t want him dead, but I did sometimes wish I’d have gotten justice for Cade’s death. Or at least that the boy was around to apologize to me or show some remorse.”

  The student who had asked the question sat down, but Violet had more to say.

  “The thing is, I couldn’t have forgiven him on my own. But God worked on my heart and showed me that this resentment I was holding onto was poisoning me and hurting my relationship with God. Over time, he helped me see that no one is beyond his forgiveness. So no one should be beyond mine either. He helped me forgive that driver. And I pray for his family. Because they suffered a hurt just as deep as mine.” She glanced at Mr. Jessup out of the corner of her eye. He’d always been careful not to bring religion into the school, but he gave her an encouraging smile.

  He leaned over her to speak into the microphone. “I think we have time for one more question.”

  Violet gestured to a girl sitting close to Nate’s still-empty seat. “Have you started dating again?”

  The girl in the seat next to her gasped and hit her arm, but Violet smiled, even as her heart stuttered. “It’s okay. I don’t mind the question.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “For a long time―until very recently, actually―I had no plans of ever dating again. I was sure that all my best days were behind me and I had no hope for a future. I was still living in the past, too busy looking at what had been to see what could be. But now―” She drew in a quick breath. “I guess I’m saying, I’m open to the possibility of a future again. And to the possibility of love.”

  The girl nudged her friend, and Violet smiled. They couldn’t have failed to notice that Nate was a little old to be a student here.

  After the students had applauded to thank her for being there, Mr. Jessup steered her off the stage and into the hallway.

  “One of our student journalists was wondering if she could do a quick interview with you for the school paper.” Mr. Jessup spoke loudly to be heard over the clamor of students filing past.

  “Sure. I just need to find my friend first.” Violet peered through the milling students, trying to spot Nate.

  “Great. Why don’t you meet her in the courtyard in five minutes? You remember the way, right?”

  Violet nodded. Of course she remembered the way. On sunny days, she and Cade had always had their lunch out there.

  Mr. Jessup got swept along in the tide of students, and Violet offered him a last wave before turning in the other direction, watching for Nate.

  She roamed the emptying hallways for a few minutes, but there was no sign of him. Maybe he’d ducked into a bathroom or was waiting by the car. She’d have to find him after the interview, which hopefully she could make quick. Her speech had left her completely wrung out.

  The moment she opened the door to the courtyard, her eyes fell on him, hunched at a picnic table in the middle of the open space.

  She breathed out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and moved toward him.

  “You did good.” He didn’t look up.

  She took a seat next to him. “You left before I was done.”

  Nate turned his head, until Violet could see the pain that always lurked under the surface of his gaze. Except today it was right at the top.

  “I’m sorry, I―”

  But Violet grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “I understand why it would be hard for you to hear about my past. About my life with Cade. But―” She squeezed his hand. “I’m not stuck in that past anymore. I’ve realized that I want a future.”

  “Violet―” Nate’s voice was hoarse.

  But before he could continue, the courtyard door swung open. A dark-haired girl stepped through and walked toward them.

  Violet waved to her and leaned closer to Nate. “Sorry, I said I’d do a quick interview before we go.”

  Nate slid his hand out of hers and stood. “That’s fine. I’ll go wait by the car.”

  “No, wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Will you stay with me? I’m not sure I can handle much more of this on my own.”

  She could see him wrestle with the answer, but finally he sat down.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as the girl reached them.

  “I’m May. Thanks so much for sharing your story.” The girl flipped through the screens on her phone. “You don’t mind if I record this, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Great.” May set the phone on the table between them. “So I think you did a great job covering everything in there, but I have a few questions that you didn’t talk about in your speech.” She flipped open the notebook she carried with her and scanned a page. “First, I know the boy who hit your husband died, but if he hadn’t, do you know what kind of sentence he would have been facing?”

  Nate stiffened next to her, but when she looked at him, he was staring at the brick wall of the school, whole body rigid.

  “I’m sorry, I really don’t. I never looked into it.”

  “Sure, no problem.” The girl jotted a note. “I know you said you forgave him, but what kind of punishment do you think would have been fair if he had lived?”

  Nate climbed over the seat of the picnic table. “I’ll be over there,” he murmured, taking off for the other side of the courtyard. Violet stared after him for a second. She shouldn’t have
asked him to stay. More talk about her past was the last thing he needed.

  Violet turned over May’s question in her mind, searching for the right answer. But the truth was she didn’t know what would have been fair. She certainly wouldn’t have wanted the kid to spend the rest of his life in prison, but she didn’t think a couple days would have been enough, either. “I guess just enough to ensure he would never do it again,” she said. “Though I don’t know how anyone would ever know what that number would be.”

  “Fair enough.” May made another note.

  After a few more questions about some of the specifics of her friendship with Cade and their wedding day, May stood. “Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Somers. I’m sure it’s not easy to talk about.”

  “You’re very welcome. I only hope it makes a difference.”

  “I think it will.” May took two steps toward the door, where Nate was hovering, waiting for them to finish.

  Gratitude flooded Violet’s heart. He had probably been dying to get out of here, but he’d stayed for her sake.

  “Oh, one more thing.” May turned back to her and lowered her voice. “You said you were open to the possibility of love again. Did you mean with the hot guy that’s with you?”

  Violet laughed. She certainly found Nate attractive, but she hadn’t known high school girls would consider him hot. She toed at the grass. “It’s possible.”

  May smiled. “Is he a lot like your first husband?”

  Violet tugged on a strand of hair, thinking. “In some ways yes, but mostly no.”

  “Any examples?”

  “You sure are a thorough journalist.” She considered the question a minute. “Okay, well, Cade was kind of larger than life, you know? Loud and playful and always laughing. But Nate is . . .” She gestured toward him. “Well, not. He’s quieter, more sensitive. A musician.”

  “Yeah?” May’s eyebrows went up, interested.

  “Yeah, he used to be in a band.”

  May was scribbling furiously. “And how are they the same?”

  “I guess . . .” Violet searched for the words to describe it. “Maybe it’s not so much that they’re the same but that the way they make me feel is the same. Cherished. Protected. Like they’d give up their lives for me.”

  May’s pen flew across the paper.

  “Actually―” Now that she was talking about it, Violet found she didn’t want to stop. “Nate recently saved my life in a fire.”

  “Wow.” May’s pen stopped and she looked over at Nate again. “That’s―just wow. Maybe I’ll do a story about that, too. What’s his last name?”

  “Oh, you should.” Violet got caught up in her enthusiasm. “His name is Nate Benson. And he’s a hero.” She felt herself blushing. “I mean, that sounds corny. But he is.”

  Chapter 35

  Three days.

  For the past three days, Nate had been pretending everything was fine with Violet. But he knew she could sense that something was off. Every time she asked if anything was wrong, though, he forced a smile and dropped a light kiss on her lips.

  But he felt like an imposter every minute they were together.

  Today he couldn’t pretend anymore. So he’d skipped out of the office early and slipped past the back door to grab Tony and drag him out to the Sugarbush in spite of the cutting temperatures and the sharp wind that gusted from the lake.

  They started out at a walk, but soon Nate’s feet picked up speed, and he pushed Tony to run harder. The tree branches above them whipped into a frenzy, dropping leaves all around them.

  Nate tried to block out the thoughts that had been circling through his head in a constant loop since he’d heard Violet’s story.

  He had to tell her the truth about himself, he knew that. But the moment he did, any hope he’d started to have for the future would be shattered.

  Every time he thought about it, a dull pain pressed against his ribcage.

  A fresh, furious gust of wind whipped against him, and Nate pulled to a stop. Tony tugged on the leash for a minute, but when Nate didn’t move, he stuck his nose to the ground and sniffed around.

  Nate tipped his head toward the sky letting the sharp breaths stab into his lungs, relishing their sting.

  He closed his eyes as the roar of the wind filled him.

  He couldn’t go through life like this anymore.

  Couldn’t deal with remembering who he was and what he had done.

  Couldn’t deal with an empty future of paying for his past sins.

  Couldn’t deal with the burden of getting through each day.

  Nate turned, dragging Tony with him as he jogged toward town.

  He knew what he had to do.

  Still gasping from running all the way to Dan’s house, Nate lifted his hand to knock. Next to him, Tony panted, his tongue lolling to the side.

  The door opened, and Nate found himself straightening.

  “Nate?” Dan looked confused to find Nate on his doorstep, but he offered a genuine smile.

  “Are you busy?” Nate shifted from one foot to the other. Maybe this had been a bad idea. But he didn’t know where else to turn.

  “Of course not. Come on in.”

  “I have the dog. We can do this out here.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s freezing out. Bring the dog in, too.”

  Nate hesitated another half second, but his hands were stiff with the cold, so he led Tony into the house. He dropped onto the comfortable old couch in the living room, and Tony settled at his feet.

  Dan plopped into the chair across from the couch and sat, waiting.

  Nate opened his mouth, but he didn’t know where to start. Didn’t know what to say.

  Dan slapped the arm of his chair and jumped up. “How about a game of pool?”

  Nate nodded, grateful. He’d let off some steam with a game of pool, then tell Dan the truth about himself.

  Dan led him to the basement, where a beat-up looking rec room contained a pool table and a fuse ball table.

  “The table’s kind of warped, just to warn you.” Dan racked the balls. “We use it for teen nights. They don’t seem to mind.”

  Nate’s memories flashed to his own youth group and the pastor who had mentored him and encouraged him to pursue his music. Just one more person he’d let down.

  Dan gestured for Nate to break.

  But Nate’s shot was off, and he ended up without a single ball in the pocket.

  “That sounds about right,” he muttered, offering a wry smile.

  Dan studied him as he chalked his own cue, then bent to take his shot, sinking the five ball in the far corner.

  “Nice shot.”

  “Thanks.” Dan moved around the table to line up his next shot. “So, how are things with Violet?”

  Nate’s stomach turned. Dan apparently wasn’t going to waste any time getting to the crux of the matter. “They’re good. Everything’s great.”

  Dan glanced up from his pool cue, and Nate looked away.

  It was time to drop the pretense.

  “Violet is wonderful. She really is. And I care about her.” He licked his lips. “A lot, actually.”

  “But?” Dan prompted.

  Nate looked him in the eye. “I’m not who she thinks I am.” He refused to look away. “I’m not who any of you think I am.”

  Dan straightened, ignoring his shot, and leaned against the pool table. “And who do we think you are?”

  Nate sighed. “I don’t know. A good guy. A nice person.”

  “And you’re not?” The hint of a smile tugged at Dan’s lips, and Nate fought the urge to punch it off. Why did Dan insist on remaining so calm when Nate was about to obliterate the image his friend had formed of him?

  “No, I’m not.” His voice was hard. “I’m a―” He choked on the word but made himself say it. “I’m a felon.”

  He watched Dan’s face closely, waiting for the disgust and revulsion. But aside from a flicker of surprise, Dan’s expression didn’t ch
ange.

  “So am I,” the pastor said, as if he were remarking on the weather.

  That Nate had not expected. Did Dan think this was a joke?

  “What? No―”

  But Dan cut him off.

  “Maybe not in the eyes of the state. But in God’s eyes. We all are.” Dan set his pool cue down and sat on the edge of the table.

  “I’m not talking about God’s eyes,” Nate huffed. “I’m talking a felon. As in, I spent time in prison for a crime I committed.”

  “I understand that.” Dan’s calm was infuriating. “But it doesn’t matter. Sin is sin.”

  Nate chucked his pool cue at the ground, the clatter of its fall dulled by the thin carpeting. “Fine. Sin is sin. How’s this for sin: I almost killed my sister?” He spit the words at the preacher. There. Let him deal with that confession.

  This time, Dan couldn’t mask the shock on his face.

  A flash of vindication washed over Nate, followed by a surge of shame.

  The man he had come to think of as a friend now knew his terrible secret.

  Knew who he truly was.

  And would hate him for it.

  Nate fell into the vinyl chair next to the pool table and dropped his head into his hands. Tony’s tags jangled as the dog padded across the room, then laid his head on Nate’s lap. Nate dug his hands into the dog’s fur.

  The chair next to him creaked as Dan settled into it.

  A large hand rested on Nate’s shoulder, and he turned his head to look at Dan. Why hadn’t he fled the room the moment Nate told him his secret?

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” Dan asked quietly.

  Nate swallowed. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

  And yet he needed to do it.

  He started talking, beginning with his band’s success, the celebration at the bar, the beers. Through it all, Dan kept his steady gaze on Nate, nodding now and then to encourage him to continue.

  When Nate reached the part where he got into the car, Dan closed his eyes momentarily. Nate could see that his friend knew what was coming. That it would devastate him and ruin whatever friendship they might still have after everything else he had confessed.