Heaven

MY WHOLE BODY IS A mess.

I'm unable to move, but I can't seem to stop shaking either.

All I can do is stare.

What is he doing here?

I know he owns the place, but he's a billionaire who has properties all over the world.

Shouldn't he be somewhere else?

Or at least any other town that isn't expecting the first season's first big snowstorm to blow in?

I don't understand, God.

Either Aryan Hale has completely lost his mind or... oh.

Shock turns to worry.

For him.

I forget that he hates me, and I forget that I've decided to stop caring for him.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Hale. Did you lose track of time, too?"

Being trapped in the Sanctuary isn't that bad a thing for me, but Mr. Hale is a billionaire with an incredibly demanding schedule. He's sure to have a million better things to do than getting stuck here, and I can't help feeling bad for my boss as I watch him take the steps leading down to the lobby.

He's right in front of me in moments, and my concern grows when I see his brooding expression.

"You're right," he says abruptly. "I lost track of time."

"I'm so sorry about that. Perhaps there's someone you can call—-"

"I'm afraid not."

Oh. Okay. Huh.

Didn't he answer that a little too quickly? He doesn't sound as troubled either. But maybe that's because he's still in shock at how things have turned out.

"I'm so sorry again. Is there anything I can do for you—-"

"Yes. There is."

Well, that was... fast?

"Do you know how to cook?"

Unbelievable.

It's the only word that's been echoing endlessly in my brain for the past twenty minutes.

Unbelievable.

If someone told me I'd be alone with the boss and cooking dinner for him, I'd have totally laughed.

Or cried.

Either way, it would have been too good to be true.

But I was wrong, obviously.

And that's why—-

I just don't understand what's happening, God.

What am I supposed to do now?

I strive to hear His voice while taking a taste of my tomato soup and reheating some homemade rolls I found in the fridge.

Oh, Father in , please take pity on my poor brain.

But by the time I'm done with my mushroom risotto and mini stuffed bell peppers, it's still radio silence from the other side, and that worries me.

I know God will speak when He has something to say.

But there are also times when He needs to test us.

And times when we don't hear Him because we're not really listening.

I wish I knew which of these is true right now, but since I don't...

Fear not, , fear not!

Even when you think you can't hear Him—-

God's with you.

The sound of footsteps pulls me out of my thoughts, and my heart races when Mr. Hale comes into view.

It's my first time to see him fresh out of the shower, and his usual suit is replaced by a dark gray sweater that perfectly accentuates the broad slope of his shoulders and the massive expanse of his chest. His jeans are an equally good fit and add a touch of rugged masculinity to his otherwise sophisticated appearance.

"Is there something I can do to help?"

My nervousness fades when I hear his still-brooding tone, and I feel so, so bad for him again.

Everything happens for a reason, but I'm not sure I can tell Mr. Hale that.

To take comfort from knowing God's in control, you need to believe in Him first.

And so, in the meantime...

"All good," I say brightly.

I guess I'll do what I can to cheer him up, and... oh.

Mr. Hale pulls one of the counter stools out for me, and my heart flutters anew as I take my seat. He's acting like this is a date, but it's not.

Because he hates you, !

He's only forgotten he does because of the circumstances.

But once things are normal again, he'll go back to hating you, so don't let yourself forget!

He! Hates! You!