You have to know. Then you can deal with it if need be. The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling over her. She’d fought for the past eight years to forget what she’d done last time. But she still thought of it every single day. How could she possibly go through it again?
She forced herself to inhale through her nose and let it out through her mouth. She had to get this over with before Vi got home from church.
Her hands were remarkably steady as she pulled the test out of the box. It was as if she’d separated from her body. This was all an act, part of a movie. She was just an actor following a script. This wasn’t really her life.
It couldn’t be.
She sat on the toilet, stuck the test in her urine stream, capped it, washed her hands, set the timer on her phone for three minutes, and then stood staring in the mirror. In her bloodshot eyes, she saw the reflection of the scared teenager she’d been eight years ago. She’d thought she’d left that girl behind, but apparently there was no escaping who you really were.
The alarm on her phone rang, but she ignored it, letting its constant trill wear on her nerves. Last time, the moment she’d seen the results, she’d known what she needed to do. She’d packed a small bag, scrawled two notes—one for Vi and one for Dan—then jumped on the first bus headed for the airport.
This time, if the test had the same result, she didn’t know what she’d do. She couldn’t disappear again, at least not right away. That wouldn’t be fair to Vi. She had to at least stay for her sister’s shower and wedding.
But after that?
After that, she’d have to go. She only hoped she could keep anyone from finding out before then.
Maybe it’s negative. The little whisper of hope was even more maddening than the still-chirping timer.
She tapped the button to turn it off, then made herself look down.
The stick was still there.
The results window glared up at her, the plus sign that had materialized seeming to grow bigger and bigger until it took over the whole bathroom.
She folded in half, bracing her hands against the sink.
“Noooo.” The word hurt coming out—hurt her throat, but more than that, hurt her heart.
How could she have let this happen? How could she be in the exact same spot today as she was eight years ago?
Her stomach rolled, and she lunged for the toilet.
She knelt there dry heaving for several minutes. But nothing came up. Her stomach was empty. Her mind was empty. Her heart was empty.
When she finally managed to get herself under control, she wiped her eyes, washed her hands, and wrapped the spent test and packaging in the drugstore bag. Her movements were deliberate and methodical, and she wondered with an odd sense of detachment if this was what it was like to be a robot. To not feel, just do.
Evidence in hand, she made her way down the stairs to the dumpster at the far end of the building’s parking lot. Once she’d disposed of the test, her feet turned as if programmed by some outside force, taking her down the hill to the beach below.
How could this same beach be the place where her dreams for the future had formed and died—twice?
She dropped into the wet sand.
She’d always known she wasn’t good enough for Dan.
The plus sign on the pregnancy test had only confirmed it.
Chapter 32
“How are you feeling?” Dan had been waiting for Jade since the moment he’d opened the church doors for vacation Bible school this morning. He’d been worried when she hadn’t been at church yesterday, but when he’d called after the service, she’d flat out refused his offer to come over.
He’d told himself he’d feel better once he saw her, but the way she brushed past him now had him more anxious than ever.
“Let me help you with that.” He moved to take the box of crafting supplies she was carrying, but she hugged it tighter to herself.
“I’ve got it.” She picked up her pace.
“So, I was thinking.” He cleared his throat. He’d been so sure about asking her the other night, but that seemed to have been a different Jade. “My family has this tradition where we go to my aunt’s house every year for a reunion. This will be the first year without Dad, which is going to be really hard on my mom. But I thought it might cheer her up if I brought you. To, you know―” He cleared his throat again. Maybe this had been a bad idea. “Meet her.”
Jade kept walking.
“It’s this weekend,” he added. “So VBS will be done by then.”
She finally stopped and looked at him, but her eyes lacked the warmth they’d taken on over the past few weeks. “Sure. Sounds fun.” She moved toward the door to the Sunday school classroom they were standing outside of. “I have to get these crafts set up.”
“Yeah. Of course.” He stepped aside, hovering in the doorway to watch her for a few minutes. She bustled around the room, grabbing supplies and setting them on the front table.
He told himself it was only because she was busy that she didn’t glance up at him even once.
But after two more days of VBS, Dan had to admit it to himself—she was avoiding him. He ran through every possible reason but came up empty again and again.
Last he knew, she was planning to move back to Hope Springs to be with him. And now she could barely look at him, let alone talk to him.
The only plausible explanation he’d come up with was that she was afraid. Of what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe that he’d change his mind. Or that people would talk. Or maybe she was scared because she’d never felt this way about anyone before.
He knew he hadn’t. But if anything, it made him feel less afraid than he had in months.
He waited until the kids had all left on Wednesday afternoon, then ducked into Jade’s classroom, where she was cleaning up the day’s painting project.
Dan collected paint brushes from the tables and rinsed them in the sink. “These turned out well.” He nodded toward the mini terracotta pots the kids had painted today.
“We’re going to plant mustard seeds in them tomorrow.” Her voice was flat.
“That’s a good idea.” He watched the water flow over the brushes, washing blues and purples and reds down the drain. “I have a meeting later tonight, but I thought maybe we could go grab some dinner before that.”
“I have an appointment,” Jade mumbled.
“Oh.” He fought to keep the disappointment out of his voice, then had an idea. “Is it something for Violet’s shower? I could come with you. Especially if it’s cake testing.”
Jade rewarded his effort at levity with a tight smile. “It’s not for the shower. But thanks.” She put the last of the paints away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She crossed to the door.
“Jade, wait.” He shut off the water and set the brushes down. Drying his hands on his shorts, he stepped toward her, trying not to notice the stiffness in her shoulders.
He stopped a few feet from her, scared that if he moved any closer, she’d bolt. “I’ve missed you.”
Her lips lifted into an imitation of a smile. “We’ve been together every day this week.”
He watched her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Yeah. You’re right.” He dropped a soft kiss onto her lips, but she barely returned it.
When she pulled away, the sadness in her eyes nearly did him in. Something between them had broken. And he had no idea how to fix it.
She was right here in front of him, but he was losing her as surely as he had the first time.
Jade sat in the car she’d borrowed from Vi, staring through the rain that lashed the windshield in pounding sheets. She could barely make out the squat gray building at the other end of the parking lot.
But she didn’t need to see it to know what it looked like inside. She’d been in a clinic like this once before. She’d seen the stark waiting room, the plain white walls, the lonely table surrounded by instruments she wished she could erase from her memory.
The rain kept up its
relentless thrashing on the car roof.
I can’t do this again.
The thought struck her square in the middle of her stomach—right where she imagined her uterus must be. Right where her baby was.
Her baby.
Even in her head, the words sounded surreal.
Just go in there and get it taken care of, and you’ll never have to think those words again.
Her hand went to the door handle.
But she couldn’t open it.
She couldn’t go in there.
She couldn’t do it all again.
The weight of the guilt from last time pushed on her every single day. If she added to it, it might sink her for good.
I can’t do it. The prayer sounded in her head before she realized that was what it was. I can’t have another abortion. But I can’t have this baby, either. You know that. You know I’m not fit to be a mother. Please spare this baby and take it from me right now.
A dry sob escaped her. It was the worst prayer she’d ever prayed—probably the worst prayer anyone had ever prayed—and she was likely going straight to hell for it.
But please answer it, Lord. I can’t do what I did last time. I can’t. I need you to do it for me.
She started the car and drove slowly out of the parking lot, squinting through the rain.
If God didn’t answer her prayer, she didn’t know what she was going to do. There was always adoption.
Or she could keep the baby.
Her lip curled into a sneer. The idea of her as a mother was ludicrous. Look at the mess she’d made of her own life. She didn’t even want to imagine how badly she could screw up a baby’s life.
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. It wasn’t like it mattered what happened now, anyway.
Things with Dan were over no matter what. She only hoped he would get frustrated enough with the way she’d been treating him that he’d give up on her.
Because she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to be the one to walk away this time.
Chapter 33
Jade didn’t know how she’d made it through the entire week of VBS. When she was working with the kids, she could at least compartmentalize and allow herself to forget the secret growing inside her womb for a little while. But whenever Dan looked at her with that expression of mixed hope and sadness, it all came back to her.
As she waited now for the last of the kids’ parents to pick them up, she pressed a hand to the fabric of her loose-fitting shirt. It was much too early to worry about showing, but she wasn’t taking any chances.
When the kids had all finally left, she stood there, staring out the church doors. If anyone had told her a month ago that this place would feel like her second home, she would have accused them of indulging in too much communion wine.
But everything about the church had grown on her—the big, comfortable lobby that invited people to stand around talking after services, the bright sanctuary with the large cross on the front wall, the music, the people, and especially the richness of God’s Word. She’d never heard another preacher who made it come alive so vividly—in a way that she could understand how it related to her life.
Dan had a real gift—and she wasn’t going to get in the way of his ability to use it.
She took a shaky breath, then made herself walk into the sanctuary, where Dan was cleaning up the props he’d used for his final message to the children.
“Hey there.” His face brightened the moment she walked through the door, and she knew it was because this was the first time she’d sought him out all week.
Her heart strained with a wish that things were different. That she’d come in here to tell him she was sorry and things were all better.
But none of her wishes had come true lately, so why should this one be any different?
“Hey.” She let herself walk halfway down the aisle but no farther. This would be impossible if they were within touching distance. The slightest brush of his hand against hers, and she’d lose her resolve.
“I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be able to make it to your family thing tomorrow.” She watched her shoe poke at the crushed cracker crumbs scattered among the flecks of brown and gold in the carpeting.
“Oh.”
She could tell Dan was trying not to let her see how disappointed he was—which only made this that much harder.
“Maybe we could do something on Sunday then.” Dan’s voice was measured, as if he already knew what her answer would be.
She stuffed her own longing into a deep part of her soul. She had to do this for his sake.
“I don’t think so,” she made herself say. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
“You don’t?” Dan’s voice had gone dull, and this time he didn’t even attempt to cover the hurt.
She couldn’t look at him.
“I don’t,” she choked out.
Then she turned and ran out the church doors, praying he wouldn’t follow.
Chapter 34
“Hey, Jade. It’s Dan. Again.” He closed his eyes, picturing her as he left the message a week after she’d broken things off. Her face had been so twisted with anguish when she’d told him they shouldn’t see each other anymore that he hadn’t known what to do. His instinct was to follow her, tell her whatever it was that had her spooked, they could work through it. But he’d known he wouldn’t be able to reach her. That pushing her would only drive her further away.
His resolve to give her space had lasted all of three days, before he’d decided maybe he was wrong. Maybe what she needed was to know he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what. So he’d spent the past four days calling every few hours. So far, she hadn’t answered once. And the one time he’d shown up at Violet’s apartment, Jade had opened the door only long enough to tell him she was too busy preparing for Violet’s bridal shower to talk.
“I know you’re scared,” he said to her voice mail now. “But I’m not going to give up on you. So if you want me to stop leaving these annoying messages, you’re going to have to answer one of these times.” He swallowed the I love you he wanted to add and hung up the phone. She was already skittish enough. If he said those three words right now, he might send her flying right back to LA.
He hit the phone absently against his hand as he thought through his next move. It had to be something that wouldn’t scare Jade away—but that would give him a chance to show her what she meant to him. To show her that she was his world.
“I know you feel something for me, Jade,” he muttered to the silent phone.
There had to be something he could do to get through to her. Or if he couldn’t do it, maybe someone else could help him.
He swiped his phone on and scrolled to Violet’s number.
“Dan.” Violet’s sympathetic tone was enough to tell him she knew what had happened between him and Jade. “How are you?”
“I’m―” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m kind of going crazy without her, to be honest.”
Violet’s sigh crackled over the phone. “I know. I can tell Jade is hurting too, but she won’t talk about it.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you got all the talkative genes in your family.”
Violet offered a strained laugh. “Don’t give up on her, okay? I don’t know what happened, but she needs you.”
Dan swallowed. “I’m not giving up on her.” Until she came out and told him to leave her alone, he wouldn’t give up. And maybe not even then. “I actually called because I need a favor.”
“Anything.” Vi’s answer was immediate.
“Tomorrow, after your bridal shower, could you convince Jade to take a walk on the beach with you?”
“Sure.” Violet sounded confused. “I can probably do that. And then what?”
“Well―” How did he say this without sounding rude? “After you get her to the beach, you leave.”
Violet’s laugh rang through the phone. “Ah, I see. And I assume you’ll be there waiting f
or her?”
“Of course.” Not just waiting for her. Waiting for her with a romantic dinner and flowers and music and . . . anything else he could think of to show her his love.
“I’m in.” Violet sounded almost as excited about the plan as he was.
“Thanks, Violet. I appreciate it.”
“You know I’d do anything for Jade.”
“Me too.” As soon as Dan got off the phone with Violet, he dialed the florist.
Tomorrow was going to be perfect. The first day of the rest of his life with Jade.
He could feel it.
Jade pretended not to notice the number that flashed on her screen as she applied her mascara Saturday morning.
She’d muted the ringer so she wouldn’t have to feel guilty every time he called, but that didn’t keep her from noticing when the screen lit up with his number.
Each time, she told herself she wasn’t going to listen to the voice mails. But each time she only managed to obey herself for three minutes max before lunging for her phone and listening to his recorded voice as if it were a lifeline.
By now, he should have given up. Or he should at least be sounding annoyed or defeated. But if anything, his messages got brighter and more optimistic with each call.
She finished putting on her makeup, then grabbed the phone, tapping to listen to her newest voice mail even as she chided herself not to.
“Hey, Jade. Dan again. But you probably recognize my voice by now, huh?”
She closed her eyes as the warm tones washed over her. She would recognize his voice anywhere.
“Just wanted to say I’m thinking of you today. And I hope to see you soon. That’s all for now. Have fun at Violet’s shower.”
Jade lowered the phone slowly, resisting the urge to replay the message. She wanted to see him more than anything, but she couldn’t let that happen. It would only make everything harder.
She was already exhausted from dodging him all week. How was it that not being with him sapped all her energy?
Over the last couple days, she’d started to have a crazy idea. What if she told him? He would understand, wouldn’t he? He was the one who was always preaching about how Jesus forgave all sins.
Not Until Us (Hope Springs Book 4) Page 17
