Page 129 of It's Always Been You
“His promises?”
“His Word. I read the Bible and pray. I keep my eyes fixed on Him and who He says He is. And what He’s done for me.”
“I don’t do enough of that, I guess.” Maybe that’s why I feel so distant from God all the time. It would check out. I’m usually the problem in my relationships.
“While I was still a sinner, Christ died for me,” Brandon murmurs, petting my hair. “That’s one of my favorite things to remember. He died for me in spite of the mistakes He knew I’d make—both before and after accepting Him as my Savior.”
Huh. Interesting. I’d never looked at it like that before. I play with his shirt, enjoying how safe and loved I feel here in his arms. I wish the love of Jesus wasas tangible as this. Instead, I cling to Brandon as if his love could stand in place of God’s, while also acknowledging—for the first time—that it can’t.
I need Him.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice the liquid gold Brandon is pouring over me right away. His hand covers my forehead like a shield, and peace spreads through my soul at the contact—almost like he’s pouring warm oil over my skin, but I feel it from within. Peace. Contentment.
Love.
“Dear Lord Jesus, how short we fall from Your glory, time and time again,” he whispers. “Forgive us for our shortcomings and be our strength when we’re tempted to doubt Your goodness. Please, Lord, heal Evie. Heal her body and relieve her from the pain she’s in. Remind her of Your love when she feels lost and alone. Be her strength. Be her joy. Be her everything.”
As he’s praying over me, it strikes me like a bolt of lightning from heaven above just how much I love this flawed, complicated man. In fact, I think I love him now more than ever before, knowing how much he loves Jesus. And how he relentlessly pursues God—despite the mistakes he might make along the way. Just the fact that he’stryingto be a better man, even when he fails, warms my cold, black heart like nothing else.
I sit up abruptly, unable to contain the surge of affection and devotion coursing through me now. I grab his face, squeezing his cheeks tightly as I push my forehead against his.
His eyes flash open in surprise. “Evie, wha—”
“I love you. More than I think I’ve ever loved anyone else, ever. And I want to be with you.”
A slow, hesitant smile lifts his features. “After everything I’ve put you through? You’d give me a second chance—just like that?”
“I’d give you a thousand second chances,” I declare, my heart roaring with sudden zeal. “Seventy times seven second chances.”
He licks his lips, tilts his head and reaches up to cup my chin in his hand. His thumb glides along my jaw, and my heart hammers in my chest as he hesitates. “I don’t deserve you, Evie,” he says. “I never did.”
“Stop,” I whisper, pulling him impossibly closer, until I don’t know where his body begins and mine ends. “I love you, and I want to be with you.” I hesitate, insecure about his reluctance. “That is—if you want to be with . . . me.” The sting of his initial rejection comes back to haunt me. “Do you?”
Brandon’s gaze is thoughtful now instead of hesitant. “Evie.” He pecks my nose sweetly. “Of course I want to be with you.”
“But?”
He grins, shifting us sideways to pull something out of his back pocket. My breath catches in my throat when I finally register what I’m seeing. Is that—
I sit up.
It’s an emerald green ring box.
Brandon chuckles low under his breath, tightening his hold on me when I attempt to spring from his lap and bolt across the room. “Relax, Spitfire. It’s not a ring.”
I exhale. I can’t tell whether I’m relieved or disappointed. “Then what—”
“It’s your Christmas present. Or it would have been. I just never found the opportunity to give it to you.” He balances the box on his knee. “Open it.” Tentatively, I reach out and pick it up. Cradling it in my palm, I thumb it open and let out a small gasp. Inside is an exact replica of the diamond necklace he bought me three Christmases ago.
I glance up. “It looks exactly like—”
“The one you lost?” he offers. I nod sheepishly.Lostis a very diplomatic way of describing the way I ripped it from my neck and threw it on the ground.
“It’s the very one. It was a miracle I found it, but I’m glad I did.”
My eyes widen. “A miracle indeed,” I choke out. I run my thumb along the pendant, observing how the crystal catches and refracts the light, despite its dark hue. “I forgot how beautiful it was.”
“I didn’t,” he whispers huskily, gazing at me.
