Redemption (30 page)

His eyes narrowed, and she could read the pain in them. It was no different from her own. He sighed. “Then you met Tim.”

“The following year.”

“You two were pretty serious at your graduation party.” He was quiet a moment, his words slow and sad. “When I saw you that night, something told me you really had moved on, that I’d lost my chance.”

Kari decided to tell him the truth. Her eyes fell, and when she looked up, she prayed he could see how sorry she was. “It was an act.” Her voice faded. “Tim and I were just friends back then.”

As the impact of what she said hit him, he fell farther back on his heels, pulling his hands from hers and bracing himself on his own knees. “Why would you do that?”

Anger welled up within her. “I thought you’d gotten serious with some girl and never even told me, never even given me the courtesy of knowing you’d left me behind.” Her chin quivered. “When I heard you were coming, I begged Tim to pretend we were together so you wouldn’t think I was stupid enough to be still waiting for you.”

His voice was quietly resigned. “You know what I was thinking?”

She was afraid to ask. “What?”

The hurt in Ryan’s eyes was so deep that just looking at him made her feel physically ill. “Now that I was finally well enough to come home . . . now that I had survived something most people never walk away from, I thought it was time to tell you how badly I’d missed you.” His voice fell to a broken whisper. “I wanted to marry you, Kari. I never thought you might have found someone else.”

The craziness of it all was more than she could bear. She stood, pushed back her chair, and took four steps closer to the water, wrapping her hands tightly around her waist again as the sobs had their way with her. Why hadn’t she asked him these questions back then? She should have asked about the girl; then she would have known the truth.

My life’s such a mess, Lord. . . . And you . . . you could have prevented all of it.

There were no silent reassuring words, only the echo of doubts as they rattled in her empty heart.

From behind her she felt the warmth of Ryan’s body as he came up and circled his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close against him. She knew she shouldn’t turn around, shouldn’t allow him to comfort her here on the dark, secluded shores of Lake Monroe.

But even as she knew it, images flashed on the screen of her mind, images she’d worked night and day to shut out since her husband left: Tim kissing his new love, embracing her, caressing her. . . .

After what Tim had done, what loyalty did she owe him?

She cast her concerns to the harvest wind, turned, and melted into Ryan’s arms, sliding her hands around his waist and up along his back in an embrace that felt achingly familiar. “I’m sorry, Ryan.” She wept into his wool jacket, burying her face against him and repeating the same words over and over. “I’m sorry . . . I’m so sorry.”

“Shhh.” He rocked her gently, his body making her feel warm and safe, soothing her pain.

When her sobbing subsided, he pulled back enough to see her face. “It wasn’t your fault.” He leaned closer and kissed her forehead. Kari knew from the shadows of concern in his eyes that the kiss was a gesture of friendship. But the touch of his lips against her skin left her feeling nothing of the sort.

“Of course it was my fault.” She shook her head and lowered her eyes. “I assumed something that wasn’t true and . . . and that’s why we . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Tenderly he lifted her chin with his finger until their eyes met once more. “I never should have waited so long to talk to you.” His gaze was unwavering. “I thought there wasn’t room in my life for football and you, but I was wrong, Kari. After I got better, after I started playing again, I found all sorts of time. But you were—”

“In New York. And then with Tim.” Her mouth hung open a moment, and then it dawned on her. “Is that when you got serious about God?”

“I think I was in shock.” Ryan blinked and winced a little. “Especially after I heard you were getting married.” He tightened his grip on her, and for the first time since finding him again she saw deep, unrestrained desire flash briefly in his eyes. “I figured God had saved my life, pulled me through and let me walk and run and play again. Even though I’d lost you, I wanted nothing more than to live for him.”

Kari could see the pieces fitting together, and the irony was almost more than she could bear. His initial conversion had really been nothing of the sort. But years later, in her absence, Ryan had given his heart and soul to the Lord, just as she’d always prayed he would. “When you were in the prayer room the other day . . . what was that about?”

He thought for a while. “I guess I was missing those days when all I needed was Jesus. Ashley had told me about you and Tim, and—” his gaze dropped for a moment and then returned to hers—“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I missed you so much after I lost you, Kari. Your eyes, your laugh, your patient way with me. Your family. All of it. I knew I should have been praying things would work out for you and Tim, but all I wanted was . . .”

The moment changed, and the electricity that had always been between them was stronger than it had ever been. Their faces were inches from each other, and in a desperate move to stop herself from doing something she’d regret, she tried to conjure up the good times she’d shared with Tim.

But not a single memory would take shape.

“I know it’s wrong, Kari.” Ryan’s voice was the gentlest whisper, soft as silk against her face. “But I . . . I still love you.” His grip on her waist gradually tightened, and his face nuzzled against hers. The breeze all but disappeared in the warmth of his embrace, and Kari was caught in a tidal wave she could not fight and did not want to.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember all that was important and right and true about her faith, her belief in God and in marriage and forever. But all she could feel was Ryan Taylor in her arms.

“I love you, Kari girl.” Ryan’s words felt as if they were whispered into her soul.

“Ryan . . .” As she spoke his name, he brought his lips to hers and in a way they seemed helpless to stop, they kissed long and slow, savoring each other the way they had the first time.

The wind in the trees, the smell of the lake, the feel of sand underfoot—everything faded. She could no longer remember the reasons she should turn and run, the reasons she wanted to stay married to Tim, the reasons she hadn’t stayed with Ryan all those years ago. All of it was gone, and in its place was only the sweetest feeling, the most incredible sensation she could ever remember having.

What did it matter if she kissed him, if she stole this one moment to imagine what life might have been like if they’d stayed together? Surely God wouldn’t hold this against her after all Tim had done. All that Tim was doing.

Besides, it was just one kiss. One kiss between two people who would have been together had it not been for a series of horrible misunderstandings.

One kiss alone in the cold night on the shores of a lake they’d visited a hundred times before. It was so wonderfully real, so painfully forbidden. It was almost as if time had stopped.

He ran his fingertips up along the sides of her neck, her face, and she did the same, feeling the outline of his jaw, the day’s growth on his face, breathing in the scents of fish and wood- smoke and cologne as their kiss grew more urgent. His hands trembled, and their breathing grew shaky and synchronized in a way that betrayed the urgency she knew they were both feeling.

One kiss?

Fresh tears stung at her eyes. Who was she kidding? Being with Ryan this way—feeling his lips against hers, his touch on her skin—she felt like a woman dying of thirst. These few sips would only leave her desperate for more.

Suddenly she knew she had no choice but to stop. “Ryan . . .” She broke away, tears spilling onto her cheeks as his lips found hers once more. But even as they kissed, she shook her head. She wanted nothing more than to follow Ryan back to his house and never give Tim Jacobs another thought.

But there was one problem: She couldn’t live with herself if she did.

Not because of Tim or their shattered marriage but because of the sweet relationship she shared with the Lord. If she let herself give in to these feelings now, she and Ryan would both lose.

Because there was no way God could honor this. Not even for a moment, one that Kari wanted desperately to hold on to.

“You’re crying.” Ryan was breathing hard, and by the dim light of the crescent moon she saw her desire mirrored in his eyes. His breath was warm on her lips as he brushed his fingers across her cheek and erased her trail of tears.

No matter how badly she wanted to follow her feelings, to kiss him again and again, an urgency was building in her. One that insisted she run as fast as she could before everything she believed in, everything they both stood for, disappeared in a single instant.

God, give me the strength.
She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed firmly enough to create a space between them, forcing herself to say the two most difficult words she could ever remember saying. “I . . . I can’t. . . .”

She slid her hands into her pockets, casting her eyes at the sand around their feet and letting her forehead come to rest against his chest. “I can’t.” Tears flooded her eyes again, but this time the words came easier, with enough conviction that she could almost feel Ryan pulling away, grabbing hold of his heart and burying it deep within him.

“I understand.” He kissed her forehead once more.

They stood there that way for a while, catching their breath, trying to make sense of their feelings. He broke the silence first. “Come on. I’ll get you home.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his. “I want to. It’s just that—”

“Shhh.” His eyes welled up as he raised a finger to her lips. “You don’t have to say it.”

He released the hold he had on her and collected their things while Kari watched helplessly. “I hate this.” Her voice hung in the autumn air a moment before he turned and caught her gaze.

“Me too.” He waited for her near the firepit. “But if we don’t go home now, you’ll hate
me.”
A sad smile worked its way across his face. “I can’t have that.”

“No, Ryan.” Kari shook her head, blinking so she could see through her tears. “I could never hate you.”

He hesitated a moment, holding her gaze, but he said nothing. Moving completely against her will, Kari grabbed her bag, trudged up the beach, and followed Ryan to his truck.

Their arms brushed against each other as they loaded the chairs in the back, and for a moment Kari froze, reluctant beyond words to let go of what they’d rediscovered.

Kari had no idea how they managed to make their way into the truck, but fifteen silent minutes later they pulled into her parents’ driveway. The house was dark, and Kari guessed everyone was asleep or out for the night. Ryan turned off the engine, but neither of them moved.

She turned to Ryan and found him watching her. His eyes conveyed a love that pierced her heart. A long, weary sigh crossed her lips, and she stared at her shoes. In all her life she couldn’t remember anything as hard as this.

“Kari.” He gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met once more. He didn’t have to say it. Kari knew this was the last time they could be like this. Ever.

A lump formed in her throat as she searched Ryan’s eyes, allowing herself to drown once more in the depth of emotion she saw there. She opened her mouth to speak, but every word was an effort. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

She wondered if he was going to kiss her again. But instead he searched her face and, despite the tears in his eyes, began to speak in a voice that was calm and controlled. “Don’t ever apologize for doing what’s right.”

He smoothed a finger over her forehead, the connection between them unbroken. “May I tell you something?”

It was torture being so close to him, and she realized she was holding her breath. “Yes.”

“No matter what happens next, I’ll never forget tonight as long as I live.”

Could he still read her that well? Did he know that this good-bye was more final than any they’d ever said? Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she was torn about how to respond. “Ryan, I—”

“No.” His voice was choked but filled with compassion and authority at the same time. “Go, Kari. I’ll see you later.”

She nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.” Without hesitating, she leaned forward and hugged him, clung to him. And when she couldn’t take the suffocating pain of his nearness, the impossibility of their situation, another moment, she pulled away, climbed out, and shut the door behind her.

Without turning around she took determined steps up the drive, onto the porch, and into the house. When she closed the door behind her, she heard him back out of the driveway, and she listened as the sounds of his truck faded into the night. Her heart plummeted, and the reality of her situation became painfully clear.

Help me, Lord.

She glanced at the wall in the entryway and saw the framed piece of needlepoint her grandmother had done decades earlier. The words stitched in a delicate faded lilac thread were a paraphrase of Philippians 3:13: “Forget what is behind. Press on to what is ahead.”

The Scripture passage propelled her, prevented her from collapsing and dying from the pain of losing Ryan a second time.

Forget what is behind . . . press on to what is ahead.

The words ran over and over in her heart, and Kari knew they held within them her only hope for surviving.

She crept up to her bedroom, where she wept into her pillow. She was wrong to have spent time with Ryan. He was not her husband, not the man she planned to spend her future with. That man was Tim, and at this point God wanted her to press on toward her life with Tim and all that lay ahead for them.

But it wasn’t the pressing on that concerned her; it was the other part of the passage.

The forgetting part.

After spending the evening with Ryan, after learning the truth about his feelings for her and knowing again the warmth of his arms and his kiss, after walking alongside him through the hallways of yesterday, the truth was clear.