Page 45 of Love and Other Chances

And Brooks. An entirely too handsome, too familiar, too comforting Brooks.

“Hi, guys! Welcome to Arrow!” I say, stuffing down any conflicted feelings about the increasing pull I feel toward that man. “It’s so amazing of you all to come!”

“I’ve been curious to see what this is all about,” Catherine says. “I’m still trying to get a handle on what exactly it is that youdofor your job.”

I laugh heartily along with everyone else. “I confess it’s a tough job description to sum up.” I guide them into the meeting room and choose a row of seats close to the back. The band leads the group through the worship songs, and Kent shares a message about living a life filled with purpose. Nothing about this format is all that different from our regular Sunday church service, but I still find myself unduly anxious about their impression of the meeting.

“So, what did you think?” I ask after the band finishes the final song of the night.

“This was awesome! I’m soglad we came!” Natalie says.

Will chimes in next. “Yeah, I totally wish I had been involved with a group like this when I was in college. What a great community.”

I’m listening and smiling, but my eyes keep darting to Brooks, trying to gauge his reaction. Despite my attempts to be subtle with my glances, his growing smirk assures me that he’s fully aware of my attention.

“Hundreds of college students sitting in a room to grow in their faith together? What’s not to love about that?” he finally says. “This is like my college FCA experience on steroids. Lots of steroids.”

Everyone laughs and throws in additional comments of agreement.

“So, you have to go hang out even later than this?” Catherine asks after stifling a yawn. “The After Party deal?”

“Yep!” I nod. “Every week we do something fun after the meeting to give students the chance to continue hanging out and build more connections. Tonight, we’re going to the specialty donut shop in Center Square.”

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to bow out of further festivities,” Joy says, also yawning. “Us old folks need to hit the hay.”

One by one, other members agree with Joy’s logic. I can see the turmoil in Brooks’ eyes, wanting to come and continue hanging out but not wanting to put me in an awkward position.

“Yep, the alarm bell rings early for teachers,” he finally says jovially. “Thanks for letting us come crash your party.”

“You’re all welcome any time.” I motion my hand toward the whole group as I say it, but my eyes are locked on Brooks.

Chapter eighteen

By the time Thanksgiving week rolls around, Brooks has slowly chipped away at my hesitations one swing of the ax at a time.

Leaves a note on my door with his reflections on the thoughts I shared in small group that week?Whack.

Emails me a digital gift card to Raelynn’s for coffee?Whack.

Scrapes the ice off the windshield of my carbeforemy early Friday morning Bible study?Whack.

Continues sending goofy dance trend videos?Whack, whack, whack.

He’s turned his full-court press hashtag into a way of life.

I spend the drive to KC for Thanksgiving with the music turned off, something I never, ever do. But I need some time to vocalize my many thoughts to God, hoping to untangle the thread to the right path forward.

“Okay, God. I really need you to shoot me straight here. I don’t know how much longer I can stumble through the confusion. My heart is getting too tangled, too wound up with anxious energy. Brooks did everything wrong in high school, but now he’s doing everything right. I can see the evidence of how you’ve changed him. I see the way he loves you, the way your love is guiding how he lives. He’s apologized for the past. And I believe his sincerity.”

I smile as I think about the Bible verse he texted me this morning, saying it reminded him of something I said during small group. Little did he know that Psalm 16 is one of my favorites.

“He’s doing everything right to show me that he cares about me now. That he wants a relationship again. But I’mstill so scared. I guess that’s what it really comes down to . . . I’m afraid of losing him again. If I let him back into my life in that way, and it doesn’t work out for one reason or another—how will I survive that?”

I exhale. “I mean, I know I’d survive, I suppose. But I don’twantto experience that kind of agony ever again. It feels like Brooks is uniquely designed to make or break my heart.

“He said he’s been trying to earn his way back to me, and I know that’s not how forgiveness works. That’s not how your grace works. But I also know that forgiving him for the past doesn’t necessarily mean we have to have that kind of relationship again.”

I sigh. “But I think I mightwantthat kind of relationship with him again. Am I playing with fire by chasing after something I want even if it might burn me a second time?”

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