Page 2 of When Forever Stays

What is man that you are mindful of him,

and the son of man that you care for him?

Tears burn my eyes. It’s so hard being caught between trusting that God knows what’s best for me while also wondering how playing the main character in my real-life version ofLast Bachelorette Standingis part of God’s grand plan for my life.

Is holding onto Rhett keeping me from following God’s will? Because I’ve prayed countless times for God to help me let Rhett go. But my stubborn heart remains steadfastly bent on him.

Even if I delete his messages I know the echo of him will remain. No matter how hard I try to move on, I’m stuck on Rhett Stryker.

As I walk further down the beach, a thought strikes me: Maybe I haven’t been able to let Rhett go because God has something unexpected up His sovereign sleeve when it comes to Rhett.

I shake my head at my ridiculous thoughts. Something on the sand catches my eye and I almost trip over it.

Not just something.Someone!

It takes my brain a few seconds to process everything in front of me. This isn’t just a large lump of seaweed or ocean debris like I’ve encountered before. It’s a human. The broad back with a tapered waist tells me that this is a man. Tattoos cover his skin, and even from here, they look beautiful and intricate. That’s all the detail I can make out though because my mind is reeling with the thought that I may be staring at a corpse.

His back rises and falls, and my nervous system floods with relief. The breath I had been holding comes out in a long whoosh.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

I inwardly cringe for asking such a stupid question. This man just washed onto shore from who knows where. Of course, he’s not okay.

He turns his head, and I come face to face with my ghost.

No, not me in a spiritual form. And no, not a literal ghost.

Remember when I said Rhett ghosted me? Yeah, he’s not a ghost anymore.

TWO

RHETT

An angel stares down at me.

“Are you okay?” she asks. Her voice is soft and full of concern.

I open my mouth to respond, but my insides squeeze and my stomach contents rise up my throat. I turn away from the angel to hurl over the sand. The salty water rises up my throat again. I cough, trying to clear my throat as the water and bile threaten to spill out with each exhale. I’m barely able to ease the tension squeezing my lungs. My skull throbs as if it’s been slammed against a boulder, and my entire body aches.

I slowly turn back to face the angel. The sun is perfectly hidden behind her hair, masking her face in shadows. Vanilla and lavender swirl around me, the scent sweet, feminine, and comforting.

“Am I in heaven?” The words are out before I can think them through.

“You’re on Amber Island,” she answers. Her voice is familiar, but I can’t place it.

“Is that a suburb of heaven?”

“I don’t think heaven works that way.”

“And you know that how?” I don’t let her answer before adding, “It’s because you’re an angel, isn’t it?”

A cloud works its way across the sky and covers the sun, lifting the mask and revealing a beautiful woman who looks as confused as I feel.

Her eyes narrow. “I’m not an angel. Do you not know who you are?”

I shake my head, ignoring the trepidation filling my being. I should know who I am. What else don’t I know?

She stares down at me, almost as if she’s waiting for me to sort through my limited thoughts to answer the most basic question.

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