by Irene Hannon
Chapter Fourteen
Laura stared at him, her eyes wide with shock. “Nick…are you…are you asking me to marry you?” she stammered.
“I guess I’m not doing a very good job at it, am I?” He tried to grin, and then drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Laura, the simple truth is I’m not getting any younger. The years have gone by a lot faster than I expected. I want a home, and a family, and a house with a white picket fence and a tree swing—the whole nine yards. And I want it before I’m too old to enjoy it.” He stroked the back of her hand absently with his thumb, his eyes locked on hers. “I’ve been involved with my share of women over the years,” he said honestly, struggling to find the right words because it was vitally important that she understand exactly how he felt. “But I’ve never really been ‘involved,’ not in the true sense of the word. In fact, I went to great lengths to avoid involvement, because I didn’t want the complications and responsibilities that go with it. And then you came along, and suddenly everything was different. I wanted to share your life—and your responsibilities.” He paused and searched her eyes. “I guess that’s what happens when you fall in love,” he said quietly.
Laura tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. For the past few months she’d gone blithely along, relishing her developing relationship with Nick, refusing to think about the inevitable day of reckoning. Now it had come, and she wasn’t ready. All the old fears, which had gradually subsided under Nick’s gentle nurturing, resurfaced with alarming intensity. He was talking love and commitment and vows, and it scared her to death. There was no question that she loved Nick. But she’d loved Joe, too, and that had been a mistake, one that was still exacting a price.
Nick’s eyes were locked on hers, trying to gauge her reaction to his proposal, watching the play of emotions cross her face. He’d known it was a risk to ask her to marry him, but it had been a calculated one. He knew Laura well enough to know that she was completely without guile or pretense. The affection she so willingly returned could be taken at face value as a true measure of her feelings. He’d hoped those feelings would be strong enough to overcome her fears, but now, searching her troubled eyes, he wasn’t so sure.
“Nick, I—I don’t know what to say.”
“’Yes’ would be nice.” When she didn’t respond, he took a deep breath. “Things have gone well between us, haven’t they?” he asked gently.
“Yes. But why can’t we just leave them as they are?” she pleaded.
“For how long?” His voice was sober, direct.
“I—I don’t know,” she replied helplessly. “It’s such a big step. And I made a mistake once before.”
“That was a long time ago, Laura. You were only eighteen years old—just a kid. And you had no way of knowing what would happen to Joe.”
“But…but I’m so afraid it could happen again,” she whispered.
Nick didn’t say a word. He tried to understand, tried to remind himself that Laura’s traumatic past was clouding her judgment, but he was still deeply hurt by her lack of trust. He’d done everything he could to prove that he was different than Joe, that he was trustworthy and dependable and even-tempered, that he cared about her and loved her unconditionally. And he had failed. Instead of the joy he had hoped to see in her eyes, there was only doubt and uncertainty. He glanced away, feeling as if his heart was being held in a vise, the life slowly being squeezed out of it. He gazed at the house he’d allowed himself to dream of sharing with the woman beside him, and felt something inside him begin to die. Finally he looked back at her.
“I don’t know what else to do, Laura,” he said wearily. “I’d hoped the fear had dimmed by now. But I’m beginning to think it never will.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them back. She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the words wouldn’t come. Just saying them seemed too much of a risk. But she didn’t want to lose him. Without Nick, her life would be empty, emptier even than before. She touched his arm and looked up at him desperately. “Nick…maybe we could just… Lots of people live together nowadays,” she said.
He gazed at her in surprise, completely taken aback. Yes, lots of people did live together. But Laura wasn’t cut out to be one of them. It went against everything she’d been brought up to believe about love and commitment, flew in the face of her deeply held Christian principles. Her willingness to even consider compromising her values spoke more eloquently than words of the depths of her feelings for him. But it would impose a very heavy burden of guilt on her and, in the end, she would come to not only regret such a choice, but resent him for forcing her to make it. It just wouldn’t work.
Nevertheless, Nick was tempted. He was losing her—she was slipping away even as he watched—and now she’d thrown out a lifeline. Maybe this was better than nothing, he thought, trying to convince himself. But how long would the arrangement last, even if she did go through with it, which he doubted? Would she ever feel secure enough to marry him? And if not, then what? What if she walked away, somewhere down the road?
As hard as it would be to let her go now, it would be even harder once they’d lived together intimately.
Slowly he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Laura,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I love you. I want to build a life with you—for always. It’s got to be all or nothing.”
Laura began to feel physically ill. Her world was crumbling around her, and she felt powerless to stop it. The man she loved was about to walk away, taking all of the sunlight and warmth and tenderness out of her life. The tears that had welled up in her eyes slowly overflowed and trickled down her cheeks.
“Nick, I can’t marry you,” she said brokenly. “I’m not ready for that step and…and I don’t know if I ever will be.”
He took her hands, his gut twisting painfully at the shattered look in her eyes. She seemed so vulnerable and defenseless that he almost relented, just to ease her pain. Almost. But in the end, he shook his head.
“Laura, I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Part of me always will. I wish we could have made this work.” Gently he released her hands and slowly stood.
Laura’s heart was pounding in her chest, her eyes desperate. “Nick, I…” She tried again to say “I love you,” but the words stuck in her throat. “I’ll miss you,” she said instead.
“I’ll miss you, too.” He bent down and placed his lips gently and lingeringly on hers, in a kiss as light as the wayward leaves that drifted down around them.
“Will I see you again?” she whispered.
“In the spring, I guess, when the landscaping starts for the Arts Center.” He desperately hoped that by then the pain of this parting would have dulled. “Goodbye, Laura. And good luck. I hope someday you find someone who can bring you the happiness you deserve.”
As the sun darted behind a cloud, she watched his back, ramrod straight and broad shouldered, disappear around the corner of the house. The air grew chilly, and so did her heart.
With Nick gone, there was an empty place in Laura’s life that couldn’t be filled. She tried working even longer hours, but that once reliable distraction barely eased the pain. She went back to doing more outdoor labor, but the physical tiredness couldn’t mask her emotional fatigue and despair, nor did it help her sleep any better. Night after night she lay awake, thinking about what might have been, wondering if Nick missed her as much as she missed him, aching for the closeness she had grown to cherish. She had never felt more alone in her life.
Even her best friend seemed to desert her. Sam had always been the one she’d turned to for support during the difficult years after Joe died and through all the tough times when she’d been trying to establish her business. But Sam offered little sympathy. Laura knew her friend thought she was a fool for letting Nick walk away. She’d pretty much said so to her face, in her blunt, outspoken way.
Her family was too far away to be able to provide much consolation, even if she’d told them abou
t her relationship with Nick, which she hadn’t. All her mother knew was that they had been seeing each other, never that it had grown serious. As much as she loved her family, it had never been her custom to share the intimate details of her life.
Even in her darkest days she’d always found solace in talking over her problems with the Lord, but even He seemed distant. She just couldn’t find the words to pray, beyond a desperate plea for help and guidance. But God worked in His own time, and no direction had yet been provided.
So Laura was left alone with her pain. She tried to tell herself that she’d done the right thing, that entering into a relationship when she wasn’t ready would be wrong for everyone involved. At the same time, she couldn’t blame Nick for walking out. She’d made it clear that marriage wasn’t an option at the moment, maybe never would be. He wanted to share his life with someone on a permanent basis, to raise a family, to create a home, and she couldn’t offer him that. Because Joe had left her with a legacy of fear that was debilitating and isolating, had shaken her confidence in her own judgment so badly that even now, ten years later, she was afraid to trust her heart. Nick had tried his best to convince her to risk loving again, and he’d failed. And if Nick—with his integrity and gentleness and love—couldn’t succeed, she doubted whether anyone could.
Laura carried that depressing thought with her into December, through two long, lonely months without the sound of his voice each morning and night, without his impromptu visits, without the laughter he’d brought into her life. Her solitary existence, once carefully nurtured, now seemed oppressive.
Laura didn’t even bother to put up a tree, a custom she’d never abandoned, even at the worst of times. But her heart wasn’t in it this year. The Christmas decorations looked garish, the carols sounded flat and the weather was dismal. Her only concession to the holidays was the small crèche she always displayed on the mantel. As she placed the figure of baby Jesus in the manger she reminded herself that the Lord had never promised an easy road in this world. She accepted that. She always had. But did it always have to be so hard? she cried in silent despair. Weren’t there ever happy endings?
And then, with a jolt, she realized that the key to a potentially happy ending had been offered to her. She had refused—because she was afraid. And the simple fact was that despite the emptiness of the past two months, she still carried the same oppressive burden of fear.
Her loneliness only intensified as the holidays grew closer. Laura’s mother had decided to visit her brother’s family in California, and though Laura had been invited to spend Christmas with John and Dana and the kids, trying to look cheery for several days in front of her family seemed too much of an effort. Sam had gone to Chicago. Laura told everyone she was too busy to take time off anyway, but in reality business was slow. People typically didn’t think about landscaping at Christmastime. They were too busy planning holiday gatherings and buying gifts for family and friends.
On Christmas Eve Laura closed the office at three o’clock, realizing as she slowly walked to her car that she had nowhere to go until the evening service at seven. Her cozy apartment, once a welcoming haven, now seemed empty and hollow. She tried strolling around a mall, but the laughing crowds, so at odds with her depressed mood, only made her feel worse.
In the end, even though the service wasn’t scheduled to start for an hour and half, she just went to church. Maybe here, in the Lord’s house, she could find some peace and solace.
Laura sat forlornly in the dim silence feeling more alone and lost than she had in a very long while. Oh, Lord, show me what to do! she pleaded. I love Nick. And yet I let him walk away because I’m afraid. I need to move on with my life, find the courage to trust again. Please help me. She closed her eyes and opened her heart, and slowly, as she poured out her fears and confusion to the Lord in an almost incoherent stream of consciousness, she began to feel a calmness steal over her.
The church was filling with people when she at last opened her eyes, and by the time the candles were lit and the service started, she had attained some measure of peace, though no insights. But she had faith that the Lord would offer those in His own time. If she was patient, He would show her the way.
As Brad Matthews stepped to the microphone, she forced herself to put her problems aside and focus on the words of her childhood friend. He was a wonderful minister, and he had offered her a sympathetic ear and sound advice during her darkest days. He was also an accomplished speaker, and she always found value in his thoughtfully prepared sermons.
Tonight was no exception. In fact, it almost seemed as if the end of his talk had been prepared especially for her, she thought in growing amazement as she listened to his words.
“And so tomorrow all of us will exchange gifts with the ones we love,” he said in his rich, well-modulated voice. “They’ll be brightly wrapped, in colorful paper and shiny bows. But let’s not forget that those gifts are only meant to represent the true gift of this season—the gift of love. My friends, that is why we are here tonight. Because God so loved the world that he sent his only Son to save us. That gift of love is what makes this day so special. No one who knows the Lord is ever truly alone or unloved, because His love is never ending and He is always with us.
“God gave us the gift of perfect love when he sent us His Son. And that love is manifested here on earth in many ways, most beautifully in the love we have for each other. Love one another as I have loved you. That was His instruction.
“Well, all of us know that, as humans, we can never achieve the perfection of God’s love. But it should stand as a shining example of what love is at its very best. It is unselfish. It is trusting. It is enduring. It is forgiving. It is limitless. And it is unconditional.
“On this Christmas Eve, let us all reflect on God’s love and the gifts of human love with which we are blessed in this earthly life. And let us remember that God never promised us that love was easy. It isn’t even easy to love the Lord. Christianity is a celebration, but it’s also a cross. And it certainly isn’t always easy to love each other. But love of the Lord, and the reflection of that love in our relationships with the people in our lives, is what sets us apart as Christians.
“So during this Christmas season, give yourself a special gift. It won’t be as flashy as a new CD player or a computer, but I promise you it will be longer lasting. Because CD players and computers break. And love can, too. But the difference is that love can not only be mended, but strengthened. Sometimes all it takes is two simple words, spoken from the heart: I’m sorry. The power those two words contain is amazing.
“At this season of God’s love, which manifested itself in the humble birth of a baby two thousand years, show the Lord that you’ve heard His voice. Mend a broken relationship. And I guarantee that the joy of Christmas will stay in your heart long after the gifts under your tree are just a memory.
“Now let us pray…”
As the service continued, Laura reflected on Brad’s beautiful words, which deeply touched her heart. He was right. Love was a gift, both the divine and human forms. And both kinds of love required trust and a leap of faith to reach their full potential. Maybe that was what made love so unique and special.
A gentle snow was falling when she emerged from the church after the service, the soft flakes forming a delicate, transparent film of white on the ground. As she climbed into her car, an image of the cozy Victorian house Nick had so lovingly chosen for them suddenly flashed unbidden across her mind.
It was probably filled with laughter and music and love as the new owners enjoyed their first Christmas there, she thought wistfully. Without consciously making a decision, Laura put the car in gear and drove slowly toward the house that had come to represent Nick’s love and the life he had offered her. Dusk descended, and the snow continued to fall, lightly dusting her windshield as she drove.
When she reached the street, Laura approached the house slowly, surprised to find the windows dark and the For Sale sign still
on the lawn. Sam was always complaining that the real estate market was soft, but Laura found it surprising that a gem like this would still be unsold.
The street was lined with cars, so she had to drive a few houses away before she found a spot to park. Then, digging her hands into the pockets of her wool coat, she trudged up the sidewalk, stopping in front of the house. Her eyes filled with longing as they lovingly traced the contours of the structure. It was just as beautiful as she’d remembered it, but so empty and alone. Just like me, she thought, allowing herself a moment of self-pity. Both of us could have been filled with the magic of Nick’s love, but instead we’re cold and dark.
She walked up the pathway to the front door and slowly climbed the steps, running a hand over the banister, touching the brass knocker on the door. Then she sat down on the top step, folded her arms on her knees and rested her forehead on the scratchy wool of her sleeves. An aching sense of regret flooded through her as she faced the fact that something beautiful had been within her grasp and she’d allowed it to slip away. Brad had said that love required trust, and a leap of faith. And there were certainly no guarantees. She knew that. Life—and love—didn’t come with warranties. But which was worse—to shun risk and spend her life alone and miserable, or to take a chance on love with the most wonderful man she’d ever met? Put that way, and in the context of the past two lonely months, the answer suddenly seemed obvious.
Brad had said that love could be mended, she reflected. But she had hurt Nick deeply. The look in his eyes when she’d admitted her fear was burnt into her memory forever. Because that fear also implied lack of trust. No wonder he’d walked away that day. Love without trust was just an empty shell, and he deserved better than that. If only she could retract her words!
But that was impossible, and it made no sense to yearn for impossible things, she thought bleakly. She just wished she could find a way to make him understand how deeply she loved him, to ask his forgiveness. All she really wanted, or could hope for, was a second chance.
