Page 89 of When Love Takes Root

I nodded, the weight of it pressing behind my ribs. “Yes, sir.”

He patted my cheek once, the same way he had when I was little and trying too hard not to cry. “Go on then.”

I stood and turned.

Celeste was across the room, helping Mr. Clarence put cards back into a box. Her head lifted as if something in her knew I was looking. Our eyes caught, and the room held its breath around us for one suspended second.

My chest remembered last night.

My spirit remembered what I had already placed before God.

I gave her a small nod, respectful enough for public, honest enough for her to feel it.

She looked down first, but she smiled before she did.

I left with that smile burning under my skin like a current I had no business touching without permission.

At the front desk, I stopped beside Tasha. “Can I ask a favor?”

She looked up from her computer. “Sure.”

“Ms. Coleman is still here. When she leaves, can somebody walk her to her car?” Tasha’s brows rose. I kept my voice even. “She’ll probably say she’s fine. She seems like that. But it’ll be dark soon, and I’d appreciate knowing she got out safely.”

Tasha’s smile softened in a way that told me she understood more than I’d said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thank you. And if you don’t mind, ask her to let somebody know when she makes it home.”

“Somebody?” she asked.

I gave her a look.

She laughed softly. “I got it.”

Juice waited until we were outside before he opened his mouth.

“That was slick.”

“It wasn’t slick.”

“It was slick with church shoes on.”

I unlocked my truck. “It was consideration.”

“It was you doing all this protecting from a distance and trying not to scare the woman. I respect it. I’m still going to clown you though.”

“Get in the truck.”

He grinned and got in.

I sat behind the wheel for a second before starting the engine. Rosehaven glowed behind us, windows catching the late light. Somewhere inside, Celeste was still giving pieces of herself away with oil, cards, peppermints, laughter, and hands that made elders feel remembered.

I bowed my head right there in the parking lot.

“God, keep me from rushing what You’re growing. Keep me from shrinking back when You tell me to be brave. Give me enough wisdom to know the difference between patience and fear. Give me enough humility to remember she had a whole life before I showed up. And give me enough self-control not to let my want move faster than her peace. Amen.”

Juice didn’t say anything.

For once, he let that moment ride.