Page 39 of From Ice to Home
Lucas searches my eyes, weighing my words carefully.
“What are you saying, Sanders?”
“I’m saying that I have no idea what I’m doing.” My voice cracks. “I don’t know how to be a wife, much lessyourwife. I’ve already failed in so many ways and I’m scared that I’ll do it over and over again. You don’t deserve that Lucas.”
His brow furrows and he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch sending warmth through my entire being.
“And you don’t deserve what you’ve gotten from me, either,” He says, his expression hardening with resolve. “Sanders, this is where we make the decision. No turning back.”
I search his eyes, looking for some kind of assurance that this is what he really wants. He takes a small step toward me, and I do the same, my breath catching at his closeness.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I say, my voice almost a whisper as I take another step closer.
He reaches for me, pulling me closer. Being in his arms has always felt right, that was never the problem. With him holding me, everything else just…fades.
Which is both the comfort and the danger of it.
“I know,” he says into my hair, his voice vulnerable. “What I’m asking is if you’ll stay?”
I pull away from his chest, looking into his dark eyes. Making the decision now…I mean it with everything inside of me. “I’m staying, Luke.”
He pulls me closer again, pressing a kiss against my forehead. His hand slips into mine, steady and sure.
“Okay, then,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “Let’s do this.”
9
LUCAS
Pulling into the parking lot of Camp Grace, I watch as campers run across the grounds, laughing and calling after one another while their counselors are trying to wrangle them together to get them to the next activity. For a moment, I let the familiar scene wash over me. I’ve spent almost every summer here, walking along the trails and learning about God while basking in His creation. I’ve never had any trouble feeling His presence on these grounds. But now, the air feels heavier and there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as my gaze moves toward the wooden cabin where Pastor Mark’s office is housed.
That office used to feel like a safe place, somewhere I could get answers and guidance whenever I needed it. Especially after my mom died. My dad wasn’t always able to be there for us the way he should’ve, and Pastor Mark took on a role as a father figure without even knowing it.
But now, it’s different. Now it feels like I’ll be walking straight into judgment if I walk through that door. Judgement that’s undoubtedly deserved. Because I have to go in there andconfess to what I took from him, how I betrayed his trust in a very personal way.
Perhaps the most personal way.
I sent Hannah home to speak to her mother. She wanted to come with me at first, but I managed to convince her that it should be something I do alone. It might be too little too late, but it’s the right thing to do. I owe this to her father. No dodging, no excuses. Just the truth.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Pastor Mark steps out of his office. He pauses, glancing in the direction of my truck as a small frown forms on his face.
God, please let this go well.
The truck door slams shut behind me, the sound ringing louder than it should in the stillness of the late afternoon. Each step across the gravel feels heavier than the previous, as I try to gather my thoughts—silently rehearsing words that refuse to come together in my head. At least I took two minutes to shower and dress in a fresh shirt before coming out here. I’m not sure showing up with grease stains on my hands and face would help my case.
“Lucas,” Pastor Mark greets, holding his hand out in greeting. His tone is neutral, but his gaze is searching. “I didn’t know whether I’d be seeing you again. Especially considering the way my daughter looked this morning.”
Taking off my cap, I take his hand and shake it, not missing the way he squeezes a bit harder than necessary.
“Me neither, sir,” I tell him honestly, my voice sounding steady despite the way my stomach is churning. After this morning, I thought I might never see Hannah again, much less be standing here now. “I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused. It was never my intention, I hope you know that.”
He nods slightly. The silence stretches between us as Pastor Mark studies me with his familiar mix of patience and perceptiveness. It’s the same look he gave me when I came forcounseling sessions as a teenager, digging into my feelings in a way I couldn’t on my own. Now, I find myself wishing he could see straight into the secret I’m hiding, saving me from having to grapple for words that won’t ever be enough.
My grip tightens on the brim of my cap, I watch the man that is now my father-in-law—without even knowing it.
“Lucas, what’s on your mind, son?” His voice is laced with a note of concern. “You don’t look so good.”
I let out a heavy breath, steeling myself for what I know I must do.
