12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

W hen Will pulled up in front of Zara's apartment on Thursday morning, it was barely after eleven. He was taking a big risk by showing up unannounced. For one, there was no guarantee she was up, but for two, things still felt so unsettled between them. When he hadn't seen her at the end of shift yesterday, he texted her. She hadn't replied until after two in the morning, and it hadn't made much sense. He was pretty sure he knew what she meant, but it wasn't what she'd typed.

He grabbed the drink tray that held two smoothies—one Zara's favorite—from the passenger seat and approached her door. Balancing the tray in one hand, he knocked.

Nothing.

He knocked again. But still no answer. He should have known better. Zara was too much of an introvert to answer her door if she didn't know who it was.

He pulled out his phone and sent her a quick one-handed text.

Less than a minute later, the door opened and revealed a disheveled Zara. Her hair was half falling out of her ponytail. Her shorts were crooked. And her tank top—

This was a bad idea. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry." He lifted her smoothie out of the tray and held it out to her.

She took it. "No worries. I was lying in bed telling myself I should get up. The last two nights have been so late, I might as well have worked a double. Come on in."

The alarm was beeping.

"And turn that thing off, if you would."

He chuckled. After closing the door, he punched in the code.

She flopped on the couch and sipped her strawberry-banana smoothie. "You remembered. I'm impressed."

He sat at the other end facing her, but he kept having to divert his eyes. Her top was a little skimpier than he could handle right now. Temptation flared. The smoothie was not cold enough.

He set it down and grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped it around Zara's shoulders.

She gave him a confused look. "Thanks. But I wasn't cold."

"I know, but help me stay an honest man."

She glanced down at her chest. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't even—" She pulled the front of her tank up, but it couldn't cover everything. "How about I go throw a T-shirt on?"

He sat back down. "It'd be less distracting. I'd rather talk to you than think about the things we can't do yet."

She stood. "Yet?"

He grabbed her hand as she walked by. "We get married, and you're welcome to wear that tank top anytime you want."

Her face flushed, probably reaching the heat of his own.

He let go of her hand, and she disappeared into the bedroom. When she came back, she was wearing a T-shirt from their church.

"Better choice?" Her attempt at a straight face fell short.

He laughed. "Yeah, that should help. But maybe not as much as a cold shower."

"I do need to take a shower."

"Zara!"

She fell to the couch, laughing. "This is so bizarre, I can't even. Never in my life has this type of conversation been a thing."

"No sexual tension?"

"No. No delayed gratification. But for some reason I can't quite understand, this is better. I know that you're here right now, not to try and get into my bedroom, but to hang out and talk. I actually feel respected. I've never felt that from a boyfriend before."

"Boyfriend? You still want to be my girlfriend?"

"I really do."

His heart swelled. "Good." He scooted closer to the center of the couch, and she matched his movement, putting them knee to knee.

"But are you sure you want damaged goods like me? I'm not the perfect little homeschooled girl your mom probably has dreamed up for you."

"Even the quote-unquote perfect little homeschooled girls can have sordid pasts. Plus, you weren't a believer then."

"While Christ is all-sufficient, and I know His forgiveness is immediate and complete, accepting Christ was the easy part. Changing my ways is taking a lot more work."

"Sanctification is a life-long process."

"I don't think I know that word yet."

"Sanctification. It's the process we go through to become more like Christ. It's the change He works in our lives. It doesn't happen overnight; that's for sure."

"Sometimes I wish it worked that fast, but I'm glad to know it's not just me."

"Nope. You're in good company." Will stretched his arm across the back of the couch.

Zara played with the straw in her smoothie. "Will, I promised I'd tell you about the depths of my fear, and I've been trying to get a handle on what it all comes down to. I think I figured it out, at least sorta. It's probably best not to try and shrink your own head, but I've gone and done it. For better or worse."

He waited, but she was quiet.

"I can't find the right words though."

"Would it help if I asked questions?"

"Maybe." She sank into the couch until she bumped into his arm.

"Start with the closet doors." He brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

"That's it." She met his eyes with a smile.

"How so?"

"You already know my dad wasn't the most upstanding citizen, but I'm not sure I've ever told you that he left when I was six."

"That had to be hard."

"Yes, but a blessing at the same time. Not that I realized that for a long time, but there's more to it. When he was mad at my mom, he'd take me to the closet in my bedroom, grab my Walkman and headphones, and tell me to be quiet. After that, he'd lock me in."

Her body shuddered.

His heart wrenched. Hoping to comfort her, he dropped his hand to her back.

"Most of the time he'd come let me out, but there were a few times he forgot before he left for the bar or wherever he disappeared to. Mom was always too distraught after their fights to come get me."

"What was the longest you were ever in there?"

She slid a little closer to him. "The day my dad left for good. He locked me in the closet, they fought—even over my music I could hear them—and I remember covering my head with my pillow and trying to sing to drown it out. But then he left. I think my mom left the house too. When night came, I tried to get out, but I couldn't. They'd forgotten about me. It wasn't until the next evening my mom found me."

Will set his smoothie cup down, took hers, and put it beside his. Drawing her against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her. The anger he felt toward her parents was only dwarfed by the compassion he felt for the woman in his arms. How could parents forget their child?

He ran his hand up and down her back, hoping she wouldn't notice how they trembled. "I'm so sorry, Zara."

She breathed deeply and sank into his embrace. "I can't change what happened, but I hope to find some healing. Nothing has worked, but Jesus is doing something in me. I've never been able to admit what happened to anyone. Not that anyone else has ever cared enough to hear me out. I always claim the doors are an aesthetic thing." She pushed off his chest and met his gaze. "But look, I actually told you."

He moved his hands to the sides of her face. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Thanks for being trustworthy. So, you can see, I've got issues." She leaned her face into his right hand.

He let his other move down her neck and arm, all the way to her hand. Lacing his fingers between hers, he said, "God is the Great Physician. He is the only One Who can heal your wounds."

He drew Zara toward him until their foreheads touched. "Dear heavenly Father, thank You for hearing us, for being our Father. I pray for this beautiful daughter of Yours that sits here with me now. Bring healing to her soul. Do Your awesome work. Help me to know how to help. I want to guide her to You. Make me the man she needs me to be. Help her to feel Your comfort and hand on her life. In Your holy and precious name, amen."

Her tears dripped onto his leg. He shifted, drawing her as close to him as he could. With her legs draped across his lap, she buried her face against his chest.

"No one has ever prayed for me like that. Thank you."

Will held her a little tighter. After about ten minutes, he grabbed their smoothies. They sat there for another thirty minutes without any words, only slurps of smoothie.

Will struggled to find what he should say. She'd unloaded her heart to him. Her fear of being abandoned made so much more sense now. Her entire life, she'd lived with the fear that people in her life would walk out and leave her. And how many men, other than her father, had done just that? No wonder she'd so quickly pushed him away if she thought that was something he would do.

Lord, You're gonna have to give me wisdom in this. Help me not be an idiot.

Zara pushed off him enough to look him in the eye. Their faces were so close. "Will?"

"Yes?" The word barely made it past his lips.

"What do you struggle with most?"

That was out of nowhere. He thought. He wanted to give her a real answer. "I guess I always come back to struggling with the realization that I'm not a failure in God's eyes, even if everyone else sees me that way."

"Do people really see you that way though?"

He shrugged. "Not so explicitly."

"Then maybe it's just your perception of yourself."

He snorted. "You're probably right."

She sat up. "Can I ask another tough question?"

He narrowed his gaze at her. "Of course. Open book."

"Do you still want to be a detective?"

"I can't. I don't have a college degree. It's a requirement."

"You didn't answer the question I asked."

He fought to keep himself from squirming. "I don't know. Some days, yes. But most days, I'm content with the job I have. Above all, I want to live in obedience, and I haven't felt a strong leading one way or another."

"You have my support regardless of what path you take."

He traced her jaw with his finger. "You are so good for me."

She giggled.

He said, "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Will you go on a ‘real' date with me on Saturday? The whole nine yards. I pick you up, we do dinner and a movie or something fun. I kiss you good night when I drop you off."

Her cheeks ignited. "Kiss?"

"Date first."

"I would love to."

He couldn't wait until Saturday evening.

Zara picked up the curling iron from the counter in her bathroom. Saturday had finally arrived, and she was beyond excited for her date with Will and only had to wait about thirty more minutes. The last two shifts of the week had gone well, and she'd finally gotten some sleep. She had three more days to adjust her body to days. Today, she'd let herself sleep in as late as needed. Tomorrow, getting up for church would be a step toward waking up in time for being at roll call by six a.m.

With the last curl set in her long, dark hair, she unplugged the curling iron and checked herself in the mirror again. She was ready. Finding the right outfit for tonight was the hardest part. Was the sundress she picked out modest enough? Should she switch to capris and a blouse?

She snapped a photo in the mirror and texted AJ.

Is this appropriate?

Before she even stepped out of the bathroom, her phone rang. AJ. "Hey."

"I need more context."

"Date with Will. I think he's gonna kiss me tonight."

"You guys haven't kissed yet?"

"Nope."

"Well, that dress definitely invites it."

"It's too revealing? I'm so bad at this. I don't even know."

"It's probably fine, but do you have a tank top you could wear? While I'm sure he'd appreciate that neckline, it's a little deep."

"I'm so glad I texted you." Zara shuffled through her closet. "Wait, this dress might be better."

She changed then sent a pic to AJ.

The dress had a scoop neck and flutter sleeves, all in a navy material with small white flowers. It flowed all the way to her knees.

"Got it. That's perfect. And it'll match his eyes."

"Thank you, AJ."

"It's what friends are for. Glad I can help."

"I have one more thing to ask." Zara dug her sandals out of the bottom of her closet. "I need a distraction. I used to read a ton, but since I became a believer, I can't bring myself to read the stuff I used to. I don't want to fill my mind with the raunchy stuff anymore. Have any reading suggestions?"

"That I do. I can bring you a book or three to church tomorrow if you'd like."

"I would love that. Are you going to first service?"

"As always, but I'll stick around until you're there."

"I'll be a little early too. I still don't know how you get up for first service."

"It's what I do. You have fun on your date tonight."

"I will. Oh, I was going to ask, are you going to Megan's party on Tuesday?"

"At least for a little bit, are you and Will going?"

"That's the plan. I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks again, AJ."

"Anytime."

The women hung up, and Zara glanced at the clock. She had less than ten minutes.

She spent them running around, first looking for her sweater because the chances of the air conditioning in the restaurant being frigid were pretty good. Then she grabbed her conceal-carry purse and switched everything over. It was entirely too hot to carry on her inner thigh, and that was the only body option she had with her dress. Maybe she didn't even need to carry. Will probably was, but it needed to become a habit.

She zipped the purse and heard a knock on the door. Grabbing her sweater and sunglasses from the counter, she skipped down the hall and opened the door. "Hey."

He stood there, goofy grin stretched across his face. "Hey, gorgeous. Ready for a night on the town?"

She stepped out of her apartment, closing the door and locking it, then sauntered to Will and planted a kiss on his cheek. "I am."

He offered his elbow. "Then let's roll."

She slid her hand around his arm, giddier than she'd ever been before.