The Goodbye Bride (31 page)

She was starting to wonder if maybe that was her own fault.

“I never told Zac. I've never told anyone.” She felt that tug in her spirit again. It gave her the courage to speak.

She started with her mom's death and the changes it had wrought in her childhood. She told about coming home from school to find her dad packing his things, about his peeling her off him and dumping her into the neighbor's arms.

“Oh my gosh. That's horrible. I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

Lucy wiped at the tears. “He was all I had. He was supposed to be there for me no matter what.”

“No wonder you reacted like that when you found Zac packing.”

“You don't think I'm crazy?”

“Not at all.” She reached out for Lucy's hand. “Jeez, you should've seen the way I reacted to Beau at first. I was so messed up. Our reactions don't always seem rational, but they make perfect sense in light of our experiences.”

“There's a part of me that wants to pack up and leave again. A big part, if I'm honest. Even though Zac explained. That doesn't make any sense.”

“When Zac left, it must've triggered all that anxiety you have about being abandoned. And you've just remembered it all, so it's as if it's happening all over again.”

Lucy stared at Eden, her burden easing at the realization that her friend understood. “That's
it.
How come you get it?”

Eden gave her a wry grin. “Girl, I've been there. But trust me on this, running doesn't solve anything. The same old problem will keep cropping up until you deal with it.”

The thought of dealing with all those old emotions made her want to curl up in a corner. “I don't know if I can.”

“Trust me, you can. God'll give you the strength just like He did for me. And someday He'll use what you're going through now for a greater good. Just like He's using what I went through to help you now.”

That seemed so far away. So out of reach.

“Just keep telling yourself the truth. Your emotions will catch up eventually.”

“The truth,” Lucy whispered as she swallowed against the pain at the back of her throat. “I don't even know what that is anymore.”

Eden squeezed her hand. “Be patient. Pray about it, and listen to God. He'll help you figure it out. And I'm here for you, sweetie. I'll help in any way I can.”

Chapter 39

Z
ac arrived at church half an hour early the next morning. He'd spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, scanning Lucy's two short texts repeatedly, trying to read into them. Was she angry? Confused? Afraid? About to bail?

He turned off his ignition and settled back in his seat to wait, yesterday's conversation replaying over and over. Questions surfaced.

Why had she assumed he was leaving her last fall? Why hadn't she talked to him instead of running away? Why had she referred to her dad as leaving? Obviously there were things he didn't know.

He wanted to understand. He couldn't forget the pain he'd seen in her eyes yesterday. The anguish on her face. His leaving had hurt her. Destroyed her.

He'd hurt her. The thought of it made his heart twist. It was the last thing he'd ever wanted to do. Every instinct drove him to protect her, to make her smile, make her laugh. But he'd been so worried about his own problems the day he'd left that he hadn't even given her a single thought. He'd been in an ugly mood, and he could see now how she could've taken it personally. There'd been
no gentle word of reassurance, no sweet goodbye kiss to reassure her that everything would be fine.

And when he'd returned from his weekend trip to find her gone, he sure hadn't given
her
emotions a second thought. He'd been too worried about his own feelings. Too busy holding up his shield of righteous indignation.

He pinched his lips together.
How's that for selfish, God?
Clearly he needed a refresher on the Love Chapter.

A car pulled into the lot, and he whipped around, hope pumping in his heart.

But it was only the organist, Mrs. Pritchard. He gave her a wave as she passed in her silver Buick.

The parking lot slowly filled. Beau and Aunt Trudy arrived with fifteen minutes to spare. His aunt made her way into the chapel while Beau headed toward Zac's truck.

Zac put down the window, eager for any news he might've received through Eden.

But his brother only greeted him with a dark look. “Really, Zac? You let her walk home in a storm?”

“She said she wanted to be left alone. What was I supposed to do? Force her onto the bike?”

“You could've stayed with her.”

His stomach sank to his toes. All right, so it wasn't his most brilliant moment. “Have you heard anything this morning?”

Beau gave him a long, withering look. Probably just to make him suffer a few extra seconds. “No,” he said finally. “But they should be here any minute.”

“Do you know what happened? Did she say anything?”

He lifted his shoulder. “Just a recap of your argument. There was other stuff Eden didn't feel she should tell me.”

Zac dropped his head back on the seat, closing his eyes for a long second. “This is killing me. I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk before church.”

Beau checked his watch. “You might start with an apology.”

“No kidding, Sherlock.”

Beau held up his palms. “Hey, don't shoot the messenger.”

Zac had more questions than he'd ever fit in before church. There was so much he didn't understand. But he did know one thing. He couldn't lose Lucy again. He knew only too well what kind of pain and suffering that entailed. And call him stupid, but he didn't think Lucy wanted to lose what they had either.

“Any other words of wisdom?” he asked, half sarcastic, half desperate.

Beau read straight through the sarcasm. He gave Zac a long look, his eyes softening around the corners. “Try to be patient. I get the feeling she's dealing with some heavy stuff.”

He reminded himself of that when Eden pulled into the lot a few minutes later. The passenger seat was empty.

Lucy had almost been relieved when she'd awakened at six o'clock with a full-blown migraine. Thank God she wouldn't have to face Zac yet. She found some ibuprofen in Eden's medicine cabinet and took a prescription-strength dose. It probably wouldn't touch the pain, but her migraine meds were at the Roadhouse.

She woke briefly when Eden slipped into the room to gather Micah's clothes and said she wasn't going to make it to church. Then she promptly fell asleep and didn't wake up until almost two
o'clock. She couldn't believe she'd slept so late. Then again, she'd been up until almost three in the morning, crying and praying and crying some more.

The sleep had worked wonders on her migraine though. And the praying had helped her assimilate her thoughts. She'd come to a realization in the early hours of the morning. She didn't know what the future held. But she knew what she had to do next.

The sound of the TV filtered through the walls, and the smell of coffee lingered in the air, pulling her from bed. She brushed her teeth and face. Her eyes were swollen and her hair was a frizzy mess, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She followed the smell of the brew down the stairs.

Eden was sitting on the couch, Micah napping in her lap. A stair squeaked under Lucy's feet.

Eden looked up. “Hey . . . you feeling any better?”

“Much.” She cleared the huskiness from her voice. “Is it too much to hope there's still coffee?”

“There's half a pot warming. Help yourself.”

“Bless you.”

“I'm surprised you're not at Beau's,” Lucy said when she returned to the living room. Sunday dinner was a tradition for the Callahans. She'd only just started joining them. Her heart plunked to her heels at the thought of Zac. How could she long for him and be afraid of facing him at the same time?

“I didn't want you to wake up alone.”

“You didn't have to do that. How was . . . church?”

“Church was fine, but I suspect you're really asking about Zac?”

She was desperate for news of him. She'd been so distraught yesterday that the look on his face hadn't registered until she was

quiet in bed last night. The feverish intensity of his eyes. The protective posture of his body. His emotion-choked voice. And finally that last pained stare. The memory of it slayed her.

She took another sip of the hot brew, willing the caffeine to kick in. Her hand trembled in midair. “Is he—is he okay?”

Eden ran her fingers idly through Micah's hair. “Depends what you mean by okay. He's worried about you. He's desperate to talk to you. He stopped by about half an hour ago. Brought your purse.” Eden tilted her head. “He looks so pitiful, Lucy. Those big gray eyes all bloodshot, his face all haggard. You should put him out of his misery.”

Lucy felt a sharp pinch in her chest. “He told me he loved me yesterday, before everything happened.”

The corner of Eden's mouth lifted. “That can't be much of a surprise. I assume the feeling's mutual.”

The admission formed in her throat. But before it moved to her tongue it got sucked into the cold, hollow place inside. It shouldn't be so hard to admit her feelings.

What is wrong with me, God?

It wasn't normal to hold back such a big piece of herself, was it? Whatever was going on, it was tied somehow to her father, and she was going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how much it hurt. Zac was worth it.

“Do you have any idea what you're going to do? I mean, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need, but I hope you'll try and work things out with Zac.”

She wanted that more than anything. But God had laid something on her heart last night, something so solid and real it felt like a block sitting on the center of her chest. And there was only one thing that would relieve her of the weight.

She met Eden's gaze. “I need to go back home, to Savannah. I'm hoping to get a flight later today.” Having money did come in handy. A month ago she couldn't have afforded a last-minute ticket.

Eden's eyes had tightened in a wary look. “Lucy . . . you can't do that to him again. From what I heard—”

“No, not permanently. I'll be back soon, I promise. And I'm going to stop by his place and let him know what's going on and let Miss Trudy know I'll need a few days off. I spent a lot of time in prayer last night, and it gave me clarity. There's something I have to do, and I have to do it alone.”

Lucy's hand shook as she knocked on Zac's apartment door later that afternoon. Her knees were as flimsy as cooked spaghetti. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her empty stomach twisted. She was so hungry for a look at his face. So desperate to be in his arms again. Despite her need to get a grip on what was happening inside her, she didn't think she'd be able to refuse if he tried to kiss her.

She knocked again, but she was beginning to think it was a lost cause. She hadn't noticed his truck in the parking lot, but then, she hadn't really looked for it either. She'd been too lost in thought.

When one more knock proved ineffective, she took the stairs down to her room and packed what she'd need for a couple days. When she was finished, she went out to the restaurant again and peeked into the kitchen.

Cal, his cook, turned from the grill. “Hey, Lucy.”

“Hey, Cal. You know where Zac is?”

Cal shoved a plate under the warmers and grabbed two orders from the wheel. “I think he's at Beau's house.”

Her heart sank. As much as she'd been dreading his
questions—questions she didn't have answers for—she'd really wanted to see his handsome face before she left.

“Oh. All right, thanks.”

She checked her watch as she wandered through the dining room. Her plane left in two hours, and she still had to drive to Bangor. There was no time to stop at the farm. She exhaled deeply, frustration bubbling up.

She didn't want to talk about this over the phone. She wasn't ready to talk about her dad, and she knew Zac would somehow pull it all out of her whether she was ready or not. He might even talk her into staying. And she had to go home. Needed to sort this out once and for all.

A text was too impersonal, but a letter . . . a letter was perfect. She went to her room and pulled a sheet of paper from the notebook on her bedside table.