by Noelle Adams
Alice stood very still for a minute, trying to think. While skipping a church service wasn’t a huge deal, this time it felt wrong. Like it revealed something not good about Micah’s state of mind. “I can stay with her, if you don’t want to leave her in the nursery. I mean, if you’re supposed to do—”
“No,” he interrupted, ostensibly speaking casually. “I’m not going. But you go on ahead. There’s no reason for you to miss it too.”
She frowned. “I can stay here with you and Cara.”
“No. You go on.”
He wasn’t just being polite. He was telling her to leave. His tone hadn’t been rude, but she understood the undercurrents.
He didn’t want to talk to her. Which meant he didn’t have anything good to say.
Which meant he’d come to his final conclusions, and they were going to break her heart.
She felt herself go white, as she stood in the middle of his living room, gazing at Micah—tired, rumpled, handsome, and so far away from her now—with Cara squirming in his arms.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice breaking.
He met her eyes for just a minute before he looked away. “Yeah. I’m sure. I need some time alone.”
“Okay.”
She had to walk away now. Away from him. That was what her rules commanded her—the only way she could protect herself, the only way she could keep from being stupid.
If he didn’t want a relationship with her, then she would have to just move on. She wasn’t going to stay and strip herself bare, beg him to change his mind, or try to trap him in something he didn’t want.
She’d made all those mistakes before, and she’d sworn not to do them again.
So she cleared her throat and turned her back on him. Then she walked over to pick up her purse in the kitchen.
It was wrong. It was all wrong. Nothing had ever felt more wrong in her life. But she kept walking until she was at the side door, and then she got into her car—which Micah had fixed for her—and drove away from the house.
And she told herself that, when the Good Friday service was over, she’d go back to her little apartment, pack up her things, and return to her parents’ house. Then she’d accept the job offer and try to resurrect her life once again, since this attempt was clearly a failure.
If this thing with Micah was over, then it was over.
What she wanted was never what she actually got.
***
Alice cried through most of the service.
She really tried not to, but she was too emotional, too upset. She’d sat next to her parents, and she could tell her mom was worried about her. But there wasn’t anything Alice could do to stop herself.
Micah should be here. She knew he should be here. He needed to be here, just like she did.
To know again what forgiveness had cost.
She occasionally saw Daniel glance back toward her, and she knew he was worried too. Jessica came to find her after the service, and the other woman gave her a hug. Both Jessica and Daniel obviously both knew what was going on with Micah.
“Did he say anything?” Jessica asked.
Alice shook her head. “He wouldn’t talk to me.”
“Well, don’t give up on him. I don’t think he’s made his real decision yet.”
And stupidly—so stupidly—that gave Alice a little hope.
So, when she went back home afterwards, she didn’t go up to her apartment after all. She knocked on Micah’s side door.
She waited for a minute before he opened it.
He stood in front of her, wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a stiff expression, with Cara in his arms.
When he didn’t step aside, she asked hesitantly, “Can I…can I come in?”
She wasn’t sure for a minute, but he finally stepped out of the way. She went into the kitchen and saw he’d cleaned it up since she’d left earlier.
“How is she doing?” Alice asked, reaching out to stroke Cara’s face. The baby looked sleepy and unhappy, but she wasn’t screaming.
“I think she might be feeling better.” His voice was strangely hoarse.
“How are you?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t fine. She could see it in his face. He was trying for a cool, composed expression, but his eyes were bleeding wounds.
And she couldn’t stand it.
Without thinking through any wise strategy, she burst out, “I got the job. At the college. They called me this afternoon.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.” He stood stiffly in the middle of his kitchen, nothing softening in his expression at all.
“Yeah, I guess.” She gulped, realizing he wasn’t going to bring up what she needed to be brought up, so she’d have to do it herself. “I’m just not sure what to do. I don’t know if I should take it.”
“You should take it.” His blue eyes were resting on her face, but they didn’t seem to really see her.
A stab of pain shot through her chest. “You think I should take it?”
“Of course. It’s what you’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
She twisted her hands behind her back. “I’ll have to move, to take the job.”
“So you should move.”
“You think…you think that’s best?” It hurt so much to ask. Hurt so much that he obviously meant it.
“Yeah. You should go where the job is. There’s nothing tying you here.”
She gasped from the pain of it and dropped her eyes to the floor, fighting to keep her composure.
She understood what Micah was telling her. There could be no confusion or doubt about it. Not anymore.
She should just accept it and move on. That was what her rules would have her do. No hoping for a future with a man who wouldn’t offer her one.
Micah obviously wasn’t offering. There was nothing left to hope for here.
He might want her—she knew he did—but he didn’t want her enough.
Even knowing that, she couldn’t keep from asking, rather raspily, “That’s really what you…what you want?”
“It’s not about me. It’s about you. And Willow Park can offer you nothing in the long run.” His voice was hoarse, but it didn’t falter.
She stood by herself, shaking and trying to force back rising sobs, while Micah stood with Cara a few feet away.
Everything she wanted.
Everything she wasn’t going to get.
“Alice,” Micah said, obviously affected by her visible emotion. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s really for the best. You’ll never get what you want and need here. I think you’re just remembering the way it used to be—when we were at camp together. It was really good. For both of us. But that’s not the way it is anymore. That’s not the person I am anymore. And Willow Park will just end up breaking your heart.”
She almost choked on a surge of grief. “Don’t you understand, Micah? It’s breaking my heart right now.”
He still didn’t answer—just stood frozen, staring at her—and that was answer enough.
She nodded her head through her tears. “Okay. I’ll accept the job. I’ll move out tomorrow and stay with my parents until I leave town.” Then she gave a jerk as she realized something. “Unless you need me to give two weeks’ notice because I’m working for—”
“Of course not. We always knew this arrangement would just be temporary.”
“Okay.” She stepped over and pressed a kiss on Cara’s warm cheek, the last time she’d be able to do so, and she gave a few tight sobs before she controlled herself again. “Goodbye, sweetie.”
And that was it. There was nothing left to say.
Whatever spiritual battle Micah was fighting was strong enough to drown out everything else. She wasn’t going to hang around to be a casualty of it.
So she wiped away her tears and walked to the door of the kitchen.
She couldn’
t help but glance over her shoulder one time at Micah and Cara.
But he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t taken one step toward her. He didn’t want her enough to do that.
***
Alice took a shower and changed into her pajamas, but she couldn’t even come close to sleeping.
She cried and prayed and called Jana, her friend from Asheville, but at one in the morning she was convinced that she’d left too much unsaid. She hadn’t done everything she should have done.
It was breaking all of her rules—the rules that were supposed to protect her heart—but that kind of protection seemed to be a moot point now anyway.
This was wrong. It was simply wrong in every way. And, no matter what she risked, she needed to do what was right.
So she put on her slippers and went outside, walking down her stairs and across the path to the house in the dark.
She knocked on the door, but no one answered. Then she looked in the garage and saw that the SUV was gone.
Micah had left, and he must have taken Cara with him.
She was almost shaking with the absolute compulsion to tell him what needed to be said. He wasn’t here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t reach him. She didn’t think it through. She just returned to her apartment, found her phone, and called him.
He didn’t pick up, so she just burst out into a long, rambling message—one that was supposed to capture everything she’d been thinking about, everything she needed to say.
“Hi. It’s me. I know it’s late, but I just went over to the house and you weren’t there. I hope you’re all right. And I hope Cara is all right. I didn’t say everything I should have said before. I was too scared. But I want to say it now. I overheard part of your conversation with Daniel today. I was filing in the closet in his office, and you all came in and started talking before I could let you know I was there. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard what you said—about how you think you’re too broken…for me. And I just don’t think that’s right, for you to make decisions based on that idea. I know you’re trying to come to terms with your old life and your new life, but I don’t think it’s good for you to act like that’s true. I think it’s still based on what you were telling me before—that you always felt like you weren’t good enough for your family. I think you’ve always compared yourself to Daniel and to other men and think you’ve come up short. But the truth is all of us come up short. I come up just as short as you do when I’m compared to the person I should be. So it’s just wrong to assume you’re somehow too broken. And—”
The voice mail cut her off, so she redialed until it picked up again. Then she rambled on. “Sorry. Me again. I think Daniel’s right about it being a spiritual issue. You know, Daniel and I know you better than you know yourself. And we both know that you’re wrong in making this decision. I wonder if maybe you’re just afraid. Because you’ve never been in a serious relationship, and it’s so different from the way you’ve been with women in the past. So all this stuff is finally coming up. You think I’m seeing you only as the boy from high school, the one I spent the summer with at that camp. And that’s not true. I did love the boy you used to be, the one I knew back then. I really did love him. But I love the man you are now too—and I love him more and deeper and more fully than I ever loved the boy. I think there’s more of him now to love. And I really do know who you are. I know how you didn’t live out what you believe for all those years. I’m not fooling myself about that. And I love you anyway, and I trust you anyway—because I’ve messed up just as much as you have, and—” She growled with frustration when the voice mail cut her off again and she immediately dialed back.
“It’s like you don’t think you deserve to be happy, when you know, you know, you know it’s never about what we deserve. I’ve been doing the same thing. Not letting myself believe in something good because I’ve made so many mistakes before. I think both of us are expecting too little. Because it’s not just about Good Friday. It’s about Easter morning. And that means he doesn’t just fix what’s broken. He makes it new. He makes it beautiful. Think about Cara. He took your broken life and gave you her.”
She was sobbing now on the phone, so she lowered it for a minute. When she’d controlled her tears, she raised it again and concluded, “I know it might be too late for us, but I had to say this anyway. Because I’m broken too, and I don’t want to act like that’s where I have to stay.”
She disconnected the call and cried a little more.
But she’d told him the truth, and she didn’t care if it broke all her rules.
It was the right thing to do.
***
Despite her outpouring of feeling on the phone, she cried most of the night and woke up late with a pounding headache.
She went to make some coffee, trying to find the energy to start packing up her stuff and explaining to her parents that she was moving back to Asheville, and she glanced out the window at the house and driveway.
She wondered if Micah and Cara were home yet. It would be easier to move out if they weren’t around, but the thought of his continued absence worried her.
She hoped he was all right. Even if she couldn’t have him, she still wanted him to be all right.
To her surprise, she saw a sedan drive up to the house and park in the driveway. She recognized the car as Jessica’s, so she kept watching from the window.
Both Jessica and Daniel got out, and then Jessica leaned over and pulled Cara out of the backseat of the car.
With a gasp, Alice grabbed a sweatshirt and threw it on as she ran outside and down the stairs.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, approaching as Daniel opened the side door of the house.
They both turned in surprise, and Jessica said, “Yeah. We just needed a few things for Cara.”
“But why do you have Cara? Where’s Micah?” She saw them exchange silent looks, and her heart started to pound. “Is he okay?”
“We don’t know where he is,” Daniel admitted, holding the door open and gesturing them all inside. “He came by last night and left Cara with us.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. We know something happened with you two, but we don’t know anything else. He just left.” Jessica sighed and studied her face. “You look terrible. So it was really bad?”
“Yeah. He made it clear that nothing could ever happen with us, so I said I’d accept a job offer in Asheville. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I still don’t think it was his final decision,” Jessica murmured, looking at Daniel rather than at Alice, as if they’d been having a conversation about it before. “I think he just needs some time to work through it.”
“He was very clear,” Alice said. “Was I supposed to wait and hope, even though—”
“No, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just…” She trailed off, her face twisting slightly.
Alice had to shrug away a sliver of hope. “But where is he? Where do you think he went?” She shifted her eyes to Daniel, who looked a lot like Micah this morning with his dark hair and broad shoulders—heartbreakingly like Micah.
“I really don’t know,” he said.
Alice saw the bleak anxiety on his face and realized something else. She raised a hand to her chest, since it hurt so much. “You don’t think he…you don’t think he’d fall back into his old ways, do you?”
She could see from his expressions that he thought exactly that.
“He doesn’t believe he’s really changed, so he might try to…live that out.” Daniel’s voice was low and textured. “Whatever he’s doing, he didn’t want Cara around.”
Alice reached over to take the baby from Jessica, hugging her close. “But he wouldn’t…he loves Cara, and he has changed, whether he believes it or not. He wouldn’t go back to who he was before. I just don’t think he’d do it.”
“I hope not.”
Alice closed her eyes and prayed silently, terrified because Daniel look
ed so worried. When she opened them again, both Jessica and Daniel were staring at her. “Maybe it was just too much pressure,” she said in a wobbly voice. “He had Cara dumped on him without warning and then I…and then he thought he had a relationship dumped on him too. He had spiritual things that were never really resolved, so maybe the pressure just cracked him.”
“Yeah,” Jessica murmured. “He’s been dealing with a lot. But I really think he’ll…I think he’s going to change his mind. I just hope it’s not too late when he does.”
“I thought he might,” Alice admitted, tightening her arms briefly around Cara. “There was still a little part of me that thought, last night, he might change his mind. But now…”
She was too tired and drained and sad to even cry, but she shifted her eyes to Daniel. “Someone needs to find him—to make sure he’s all right.”
Daniel nodded. “I’ll look for him. I know a few places he used to…I’ll find him.”
Alice walked over to the recliner, thinking she’d rock Cara, and noticed something on the side table. “He took his Bible.”
“What?” Jessica asked.
“He took his Bible. It’s always right here. He wouldn’t have taken it if he was going to…going to spiral down again, would he?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said slowly.
Despite all evidence, Alice felt a different sliver of hope. Not for her, but for Micah. She said, “He used to like to… he said he used to go to Hanging Rock to think and pray and work things out. Maybe he went there. Do you know where it is? Off the southern trail.”
Daniel knew the trails as well as she did. He nodded. “Yeah. I know it. I’ll check it out. I’ll find him, Alice.”
“Please do. I can’t go after him—not after he made his decision—but someone needs to. Someone needs to find him.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do. Can you make sure Jessica gets home?” At her affirmation, Daniel kissed Jessica briefly and left the house.
Jessica and Alice stared at each other for a long stretch of time.
Then Jessica finally said, “I’m so sorry, Alice.”
Alice felt another swell of emotion, but she didn’t have any more tears. She just nodded. “I love him. I love both of them.”
