Page 89 of SEAL of Valor

She’s barely made eye contact with me since, and the darkness in me is telling me that it’s because she sees me as less of a man now. That I unloaded things I shouldn’t have, and now I’m weak.

But for the first time ever, I don’t sink into those lies. I refuse to let them fester because one truth drowns out all the noise: God saved me. I may not know why, but He did.

Reaching forward, I lay my hand on the worn leather cover, then pull it back toward me. There’s a ribbon bookmark already inside, so I start there. After laying the Bible open, I take note of the book title listed at the top of the page. Romans.

Verses thirty-five through thirty-seven have been highlighted, so I start there.

Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean He no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? (As the scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”) No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

I sit back in my seat and simply stare at the words.

For a man who had both of his parents turn their backs on him, who has lost all those around him, to be told that he is loved unconditionally seems such an impossible thing to comprehend.

“Jesus Christ, the Son of God, came to this world and lived a perfect life. He died a sinner’s death so that we would all be saved. So that we could have a chance to spend eternity with God and not one separate from Him.”

Pastor Reeves’ words come rushing back. Growing up, I learned about stories from the Bible. I was taught about Jesus, who He was, and what His sacrifice meant. But I don’t think it ever fully registered.

Until now.

“Coffee?”

I glance up as Reese walks into the kitchen, freshly showered and wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. My mouth dries, attraction burning a hole straight through me. Man, she’s beautiful.

How could I have ever let her leave? Why didn’t I go after her the moment I got her note? I could have been in a car, racing toward her. Could have begged and pleaded for her to come home. Or, to let me come with her to Charleston. I would have left everything behind for her.

So why didn’t I?

Except the truth is easy to find. I didn’t think I was good enough. I never did.

“Sure, thanks. Zane called. They’ll be here in about ten minutes with pizza.”

“Guess I need to make a full pot then,” she replies with a smile in my direction. Her gaze lands on the open Bible, and her smile fades. She turns toward me. “I’m sorry I told Pastor Reeves about the baby.”

“I’m not.” I push back from the table and head into the kitchen, though instead of going to her, I lean back against the sink, opposite where she is. “I’m glad you had him to talk to.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. After I told you, I just started driving, and I ended up outside the church. I was a mess.”

All I can see is Reese on her knees in that church, terrified and grieving, while I was off drinking until I couldn’t see straight.

“Full disclosure, Tessa knows, too. But I didn’t tell her until a few days ago.”

“So do the guys. Brenda told Zane, and—well—he called me out on a few things the other day. We had an audience.”

“How did Brenda find out?”

“It was years ago. He said she did background checks on all of us, which also means digging up any skeletons she could find. You were one of those. Which is why she came after you.”

Reese clenches her jaw and shakes her head. “So, she’s been planning this for a while.”

“She wanted leverage, and she found it. It’s also how she found Tessa.” I clear my throat. “I know that I’ve said it before, but I should have been there, Reese. I should have done something.”

“I should have stayed,” she replies softly. “I didn’t even give us a chance before I ran. We hadn’t been married twenty-four hours, and you were having to plan a funeral for your sister. I should have stayed by your side, but I was so occupied with my own guilt, my own pain, that I let myself be consumed by it instead of being the partner I should have been.”

She pushes from the countertop and crosses over to me. I reach back and grip it, unsure whether I can trust myself if I get my arms around her. There’s too much there. Too much attraction, too much…love.

“It’s on both of us, Weston, and I know neither one of us is the same person we were back then.”

It may have been brief, but I still see Reese as my wife. As the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life with. That ship sailed, though, when our marriage ended.