The tears pressed harder. “I’m not proud of myself. I never thought I would…but I was weak. Weak and lonely. I thought I was in love, and I had no idea he was…the monster he is.”
“Don’t cry, Yetta.” He said it now the way he’d done dozens of times as they grew up. Desperately, with an edge of panic. And it did no more to urge the tears away now than it ever had. “We all have those struggles, even Stephen with Barbara. It’s natural. And sometimes we make mistakes. But you can get away. You have to. You can’t stay with him.”
“He might as well own me, don’t you see that?” She slid past him, knowing he wouldn’t thank her for it if she let the tears come. But she couldn’t hold them back any longer. “He won’t let me go.”
“It’s not his choice. You’re not his. You’re God’s.”
By the time he spoke the last word, she had gained the door, her feet flying toward the back of the house. The world had gone blurry through the lens of her tears, but she didn’t need to see. She knew every rock, every root, every bump in the ground. Knew it was three stairs to the kitchen door, and then a quick dart around the thick slab of a table.
“Miss Mari, what in the world? You a’ight?”
Knew Tandy wouldn’t follow her if she just moved fast enough.
“You need Mr. Dev, honey? He’s up with his mama.”
No! She might have screamed it if a sob hadn’t choked her. Scurrying down the back hall, she pressed a hand to her mouth. She couldn’t go upstairs to the sanctuary of her chamber if he were up there.
You’re God’s.
The words pounded with each footfall as she ran into the main hall, battered her mind as she pushed into the library. Stephen, at least, could be found there. His books on the shelves, his wisdom hovering around them.
You’re God’s. God’s. Yes. He had bought her. Redeemed her. Purchased her from the man to whom her sins had bound her.
Ye were not redeemed with corruptible things, as silver and gold… But with the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without blemish and without spot.
Without blemish—not her. She was tarnished. Ruined.
Her face in her hands, she bypassed the chairs, the couch. She didn’t want to be comforted by soft cushions and velvet. She wanted to disappear. And so she headed for the far corner and the little alcove that was a mere quirk of the architecture and arrangement of shelves. One little rectangle tucked away, just big enough for her to curl up in on the floor.
Why could God not undo the past? If she could go back, if she could resist him one more day, then she never would have made such a stupid mistake. It had seemed bad enough that morning, when she realized how she had betrayed her husband’s memory.
How much worse an hour later down in that tunnel.
And now, knowing what he had done to Cora…
For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.
The wave hit so hard it forced her down still more, until she felt the cold floor against her cheek and could hear her strangled cry reverberate in the planking. She splayed her fingers over the honey-colored wood, wishing she could press hard enough to go through it. To sink down until she disappeared altogether, vanished from her wreck of a life.
…glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.
She pressed her lips together, tried to hold back the sob, to keep it from drawing anyone in. But a whimper slipped through. How can You love me, God? When I have not glorified You in my body, when I have ignored You in my spirit? Much as she squeezed her eyes shut, she couldn’t erase the images flashing forever before her eyes. All her sins, all her failings, all the times she cared only for herself.
God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.
A shudder coursed through her. Why did the words come so quickly, so easily? Yet never in her life had she felt them the way Stephen said he could. Never had it been solid, like a touch upon her heart, like an embrace from her parents. Never had it warmed her when the winter winds closed in.
If You are there, Lord God, then please be real to me. Please come. Please show me You are real.
A flutter against her hair made her breath catch and then quaver its way out. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and listened to her brother’s voice in her head, saw his earnest face. You can never be more stubborn than He is loving. You can never be so far from Him that He cannot touch you.
The flutter turned to a stroke, soft and tentative as if she were mist, and then settled, light as a snowflake.
She had fallen too far. Her world had turned dark, all because of her poor choices. With no one to blame but herself for the pieces that lay about her. Destroyed. And yet He promised to pay the price for her.