After the conversation with Ivy, I’d gone straight home. My mind was consumed with her; her words playing over and over again in my head.
I’m scared and I can’t take any more heartbreak. You’re a risk, Sawyer.
My stomach knotted from the knowledge I’d brought us to this place. I’d shattered her confidence and now it was over because she no longer trusted me or wanted me in her life. I called Hayden for advice, and he stopped by later that afternoon.
“Be patient,” he said. “She’s still hurting.”
“How can I fix this? She won’t give me another chance—thinks I’ll break her heart again.”
Hayden frowned. “Fear is a powerful emotion: It steers people away. Love, on the other hand, brings them back. Ivy may love you, but only she can decide if she's willing to take another chance. I hate to tell you this, Sawyer, but actions have consequences and sometimes consequences can't be undone.”
He spoke the truth, but I wasn’t ready to let go.
“I’ve tried to reassure her, over and over. What else can I do?”
“Have you ever explained why you love her?”
“Of course.” Wait, had I? I knew all the reasons I loved Ivy: her sweet spirit, her kindness, the way she’d remained loyal even when I’d been impossible to be around. I would never forget how she reached out to me. Her strength and faith in God made her the one person I wanted to be with for the rest of my life. She was beautiful inside and out. But had I made that known so she would have no reason to ever doubt? I thought I had. My intentions must have fallen short.
“Thank you, Hayden. I know what I need to do now.”
“Glad to be of service, but I’m not sure I did much.”
“I need to make her understand the why.”
“Women need to hear those things . . . on a regular basis.” He chuckled. “Thirty-four years of marriage has cemented that into my brain.” His expression grew more serious. “Share your heart with her, make it clear as day, but recognize this: only God can change her mind.”
That evening, I stood in front of Ivy’s apartment, praying she would be the one to answer because if Sammie answered, she’d send me on my way. I knocked. A few minutes passed, and I knocked again. Sammie finally opened the door.
Her hair was wet, and she was drying it off with a towel. “I thought I heard someone. Sorry, I was taking a shower.”
I figured it was best to get to the point. “No problem. Is Ivy here?”
She shook her head. “She’s working.”
“When will she be home?”
“What are you here for, Sawyer? Ivy told me everything.”
I grabbed the edge of the doorframe and leaned forward. “I’m not here to pester her, but I need to say one last thing.”
Her eyes softened and instead of closing the door in my face as I half expected, she relaxed her posture. “I’ve seen the changes in you. I know you’re trying.”
“It hasn’t been easy. Sometimes I want to withdraw like I used to, head up to the balcony on a Sunday morning and remain a spectator.” I wanted to smile but my throat felt thick. “That would be counterproductive. I'm trying to participate in life, not stand on the sidelines and watch it happen.”
My eyes widened at my own confession. I hadn’t meant to share that, but the words came out as if they had a mind of their own. Maybe I was getting used to letting down my guard and allowing others to see the real me—the part that was weak and flawed.
“God’s working in your life. We've all noticed.”
“Thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” I cleared my throat. “Can I wait for her?”
“Sawyer, I want to help you. I was really upset with you—still am, if I’m honest, but even I can see you love her and your actions prove you’re willing to commit. Thing is, Ivy’s convinced there’s nothing more to say. If she comes home and sees you here, she’s going to be angry with me for letting you in.”
My head dropped, and I exhaled. “I understand.” I turned to leave.
“Wait.” She frowned and appeared to contemplate her next words. “That day at the hospital when I said you weren’t good enough—that was wrong of me to say. Please forgive me for being so harsh. I was being protective of my friend, but I had no right to lash out at you.”
“It’s okay, Sammie. I had it coming, and I never held it against you.”
She hesitated, as if trying to decide if she should say anything further. “Don’t make me regret this. Ivy's shift at Casie’s is over in an hour. If you wait for her there, she might talk to you.”
“Thanks, Sammie. I really appreciate it. You’re a good friend. I’m glad she has someone like you in her life.”
A sense of determination filled me as I drove to Casie’s with a plan. I had to help her see inside my thoughts, inside my heart.
Ivy
Shift over, I wrapped my coat around my shoulders and waved goodnight to my coworkers. I was dead tired. Working on my feet twenty to thirty hours a week while trying to maintain my studies had been exhausting. Some nights I had to remind myself the fast pace my life had taken was exactly what I needed because it kept my mind focused on other things.
I pushed against the double doors, and a blast of cold air hit my face as I stepped outside. A large figure sat on a bench in front of the restaurant, arms crossed, long legs sprawled out in front, a book next to him on the seat. Sawyer.
My heart flipped and butterflies coiled within my stomach every time I saw him, my insides dissolving into a pile of goo. The man was persistent, and as much as I’d pushed him away, a part of me was thankful he hadn’t given up.
I gathered courage and headed over to find out what he wanted. “Sawyer, what are you doing here?”
As if coming to attention, he straightened in his seat. “We need to talk.”
He patted the space next to him and gestured for me to sit.
That was not a good idea. I could not be that close to him.
“I’m leaving in a minute so I’ll stand.” My eyes settled on the book at his side once again. “I made myself clear this morning at church.”
He picked up the book and stood to face me. “You did. Please hear me out and then I promise I won’t bother you again.”
“All right.”
“Just answer one question.”
I glanced at my car in the parking lot and brought my gaze back to him. This was harder than hard. Every time we spoke I wanted to give up the fight, run back into his arms. “I’m listening.”
“Do you remember the letter you wrote—the one about the locket Austin gave you?”
“Yes. How could I forget?”
“In your letter, you told me the importance of the locket, how difficult it was for you to take it off—what it signified in your mind.”
The piece of jewelry had meant something to me at the time, the possibility of a reconciliation with Austin. I’d thrown it away because Austin didn’t have a hold on me anymore. “I remember. Why are you bringing this up now?”
“Because you said you wanted to share your heart. You said that by doing so you hoped to bridge the distance between us, so I’d be more comfortable opening up to you.” He placed the book in my hands. “Here’s my heart. If you want to know how I really feel about you—read this. It’s all in there.”
My fingers traced the brown leather cover, and I instantly knew what this was. His journal.
“I recorded everything. From the moment I first saw you in that crazy interview until this morning when you told me it’s over. It’s all there, Ivy. Read it. And when you’re done . . . find me. I’ll be waiting.”
My breath caught. “How can I take this? Your private thoughts are in here. You shouldn’t give this to anyone.”
He moved forward until we stood only inches apart. “I’m trusting you with my journal, just like you trusted me that day with your story. No one in my life has ever had this kind of access to my personal thoughts. That should tell you something right there.” His chest heaved. “I
n my mind, you and I are right for each other, but if you come to a different conclusion, I’ll have to respect your decision. Just promise me one thing.”
My eyes met his, and they were so full of hope, and sadness, and pleading I wanted to cave right then. My pulse raced, and a drop of sweat rolled down my back even though it was cool outside.
I wanted to protect myself from future grief, but I also wanted to fly into his arms and find solace in his love. It was something I thought about constantly, something I yearned for. I knew he loved me. Didn’t doubt it in the least. But he and I . . . we both had insecurities in different ways. What if the pain from his past held him back again? I wasn’t sure I could handle it. Seeing him now made it all rush to the surface, but I didn’t know how to deal with the fear.
Sawyer Drake had the power to destroy me.
Really destroy me.
I had never experienced a love like this.
It was all-consuming.
Beautiful . . . but terrifying.
And if it didn’t work out, there would be no coming back from that.
“What do you want me to promise?” I asked, trying not to give over to the trembling in my body.
“Read it all. Once you’ve done that, if you still think I should back off, I will. I won’t like it, but I’ll do what you ask.”
I nodded. “All right. You win. I’ll read your journal.”
“Thank you, Ivy. The ball is in your court.”
Chapter 35
Ivy
When I got home, Sammie stood in the kitchen unloading dishes from the dishwasher. She glanced at me over her shoulder. “How was work?”
It surprised me she was up this late since she had an early class in the morning.
“It was fine,” I said, heading to my room and putting my purse on the desk.
Reading the journal was the only thing on my mind at the moment. Sawyer had etched his deepest thoughts and feelings into the pages, and I desperately wanted to immerse myself in them. I sat on the bed and gingerly held the book in my hands, opening to the first page.
A knock sounded at the door and my heart sank because all I wanted right now was privacy. “Yeah?”
Sammie opened and peeked her head in. “Just wanted to check on you. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Can it wait? There’s something I need to do.”
“This will only take a minute. I promise.”
Sighing, I closed the journal and set it aside for the time being. “All right.”
“Join me in the kitchen. I’m putting away the dishes.”
As we headed towards the kitchen, Sammie studied me. “Is everything okay?”
“No.” I grabbed a mug from the top rack of the dishwasher and put it in a top cabinet. I glanced at her and attempted to reign in my emotions. “I spoke to Sawyer. He was waiting for me after work.”
She didn’t seem surprised. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a confession to make. He came by a few hours ago looking for you, and I told him where to find you. I hope you’re not mad.”
“I’m not.” What little control I had disappeared as tears streamed down my face. “Sammie, I'm afraid I’m making the biggest mistake of my life by pushing him away, but I'm stuck. I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh, Ivy.” Sammie gathered me in a hug and patted my back. She released me and studied me again. “Tell me what's going on.”
“It scares me that one person has the power to crush me in an instant. I’m so in love with Sawyer, but he’s a risk. If it doesn’t work out a second time, I won’t survive—my heart can't stand another break. What if it destroys me?”
Sammie opened her mouth and then closed it as if she was about to speak but changed her mind.
“Out with it,” I demanded. “What were you about to say?”
When she hesitated, I put a hand on my hip and gave her a pointed look. “You held back what you wanted to say. You’re my best friend. If I can’t hear the truth from you, who can I hear it from?”
“Come on, let’s sit down.”
I followed her to the couch and tucked my feet under my thighs while Sammie appeared to collect her thoughts.
“Give it to me straight, Sammie.”
“All right. If that’s what you want.” She clasped my hand and squeezed it. “You can’t run from pain, Ivy. Life is full of it. God brings trials and sometimes those hardships hurt like someone took a sledgehammer to your little toe.” She had a faraway look, most likely recollecting some of her own hardships. “But no matter what happens, the Lord will always be there for you. Human beings make mistakes. We let each other down all the time without meaning to. There’s only one person who will never let you down, and that’s the Lord.”
I exhaled a breath. “You're right . . .”
“I can’t tell you what to do about Sawyer. Only you can decide if he’s worth the risk. Yes, you might be miserable if it doesn’t work out. But from my perspective, you’ve been miserable since you’ve kept him at arm’s length. That’s beside the point.” She smiled. “There’s just one thing I hope you understand. Nothing in this life has the power to destroy you.” She stood to her feet and said, “Hold on a second,” and then ran into her room and returned with a Bible. She flipped the pages until she found what she was looking for. “2 Corinthians 4:8-9 says: ‘We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed.’” She glanced at me again. “You may worry that a failed relationship will obliterate you, but the Bible says differently. If you put your focus on Christ, He will carry you through any trial that comes your way.”
For a long moment I just sat there and absorbed those words. Struck down but not destroyed.
As a believer in Christ, nothing could destroy me. Nothing.
“Looks like I let my emotions get the best of me. Thank you, Sammie. I needed to hear that.”
“You’re welcome, and it will be okay—no matter what you decide.”
I nodded. “I think I need time alone to pray right now.”
We both went to our own rooms, and I sunk down on my bed, head in hands, and poured out my heart.
Lord, help me put you first. Help me find my deepest satisfaction only in you. You are my rock, my hiding place. You know my fears and you know my desires. Give me wisdom and guide me in the right direction.
I continued to pray for several more minutes, and a calming peace filled my entire body.
It was then I realized I needed to see things through. If I gave up on Sawyer, I would always regret that decision. The future wasn’t guaranteed, but however it turned out, I had to find the courage to give our relationship another chance.
Love was patient and kind and long-suffering. It had the ability to bear all things, hope all things, and yes, endure all things. Hadn’t the Apostle Paul written that in 1 Corinthians 13?
I picked up Sawyer’s journal and sat back against the headboard on my bed. Without reading any of it, I was ready to make a decision. I’d allowed my own insecurities to get in the way of something good. Sawyer was worth the risk. And whatever the outcome, I would put my hope in the Lord and trust His plan.
Exhausted and emotionally drained after my shift at Casie’s, especially after sifting through these issues, I reverently ran a hand over the leather cover, not unaware that Sawyer had peeled back the hard edges of his protective wall by allowing me to read his private thoughts.
I may have been tired, but my mind refused to let me sleep until I read every word in his journal.
The first few entries took place shortly after Sawyer’s accident, and paragraph after paragraph seized my attention with gut-wrenching prose about death and loss.
The hard reality of three tragic deaths made my stomach clench, and at times I had to take a moment to collect myself. Sawyer’s guilt, intertwined with his pain, brought to the forefront his motivation for keeping people at a distance.
One s
ection, in particular, tugged at my heartstrings.
Today, I looked at myself in a mirror for the first time since the bandages were taken off. I ran to the bathroom and vomited. If I make myself this sick, what will others think when they see me?
My heart broke at those words. When I came to an entry that involved me, I read as if in slow motion, devouring every word.
I saw this girl in church today. There was something about her that drew my attention. Oddly enough, I couldn’t look away. Why am even writing about this? It’s not like I’ll ever have a chance with her.
He thought he’d never have a chance with me? I never thought I’d have a chance with him. We were two peas in a pod. I continued to read.
That girl, the one I couldn’t stop watching at church—she interviewed for the job today. I’m not ready to deal with this. There’s only one choice here—drive her to quit. This is about survival.
His journal was filled with a combination of thoughts and feelings as well as prayers and Bible passages that meant something to him. One passage was particularly poignant.
Psalm 31:9: Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye is wasted from grief; my soul and my body also.
Underneath the verse, he’d written: Do you see me, Lord? Do you see my body wasting away with grief? Please get me through this. Show me how to hope in the land of the living.
Below that, he wrote in depth about God's love and protection from Psalm 139, and even though he suffered deeply, he hadn’t fully given up. There was a spark of life, a small flicker of light that hoped for a future that involved God’s mercy, that still believed in God’s goodness.
I read further, finding a lot of entries about me. My heart stopped at one particular passage.
I’m falling for her, but she’s too sweet for someone like me. I need to stop these feelings before they get out of hand. She’s not my friend. She’s not my anything. This is dangerous.
He went on to share his inner struggles and topping the list was his fear of growing close to me. A lot of his behavior made sense, seeing everything through his eyes. From the number of entries, it seemed he thought about me often. That knowledge lifted my spirits higher. My heart pounded erratically at what he wrote next.
The Unwanted Assistant Page 28
