Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
"Please know that I'm not judging or condoning anything you did, but right now, I think there's one thing you need to hear the most."
Oh no.
Why do I feel like covering my ears when I see Hope leaning forward? It's almost like—
"Please stop punishing yourself every time you feel you've done something wrong."
Almost like she sees through me even though we haven't talked to each other for years—
"It doesn't work that way, Shay. And God...He doesn't work that way either."
Because He wants to tell me something through her.
I didn't even realize I'm crying again until Hope sits down next to me, and I'm crying in her arms like I'm a little girl again.
Her words remind me of the past, and Hope listens with sympathy and patience as I tell her about how I had once told my dad about getting my first B- in school, and him just nodding before telling me he's done with our family.
"I think I'm even more confused this time," I joke tearfully as I pull away. "I thought I was coming here to vent about my boss, but instead I end up talking about old childhood wounds that I didn't know existed."
Ever the thoughtful gentleman, Colin offers us tissues, and we both laugh helplessly even as we start dabbing our eyes.
"God works in mysterious ways," my friend says, and all I can do is nod.
No truer words have been spoken, and when Hope asks if she can pray for me...
All I can do is nod. Because the moment I try to speak, I feel like I'm going to cry again.
No one has ever asked me that.
No one.
And I wonder how my life would change if someone had, the first time I needed someone to show me that I could always run to God, no matter what.
HOPE INSISTS I SLEEP in their guestroom later that night, and honestly? I didn't put up much of a protest. I just wasn't ready to be all alone in my apartment.
Even so, sleep still doesn't come easy. Hope's prayer comes back to me, and my chest squeezes. It was a really simple prayer, but just thinking about it makes me want to cry.
Lord, Shayla, Your beloved daughter needs to hear Your voice.
We know You've been by her side all this time.
But we also know this world that we live in has a way of making it hard for us to feel Your presence.
May she hear Your voice, Lord. May she know Your will. May she find strength and comfort in You, so that she'll never be made to think she's ever alone. She never was, and she never will be. May her hope always be found in You.
I toss and turn in bed. The cat-shaped analog clock on the bedside table tells me it's already midnight, and yet...I still haven't heard a thing.
Should I not be hearing God's voice by this time?
It's so, so tempting to think it's because He's abandoned me...but I remind myself I know better now.
Right?
I sit up. But it still doesn't feel right. I get to my feet. But it's not right either. Nothing feels right until I find myself down on my knees...
Like I have nowhere else to go...
Because I don't.
And that's when the tears start falling again.
I remember Therese touching Adriano like he's already hers, and it hurts.
So, so much.
I remember that night in the boardroom, and this hurts, too.
So, so much.
But what hurts most of all is this.
This feeling like I should be hearing His voice by now but I don't.
"I don't know if You're listening," I whisper. "I know I've never tried to talk to You. Never had the courage to find out if you were truly real. But this time..."
Oh God, please.
I can't even speak now.
The pain is just too much that all I can do is cry out to Him in my heart.
I want to believe You're there.
I think I believe, but I want to believe in You more.
So please God.
Please talk to me.
Chapter Ten
ADRIANO
SIX IN THE MORNING, and I'm already on my third coffee. The night air clings to the city streets, a damp reminder of hours spent searching. I lean against the stone pillar outside our office building, waiting. Watching.
Shayla never came home last night. And the only reason I know this is because I've gone straight to her apartment from the auction. But she never came back. And all the calls I've made for the past twelve hours have gone straight to voicemail.
If she doesn't show up for work today...I don't give a damn if this makes people think I'm overreacting. I'll have her reported as missing. I just need to know she's fine.
Movement at the corner catches my eye. A sleek silver BMW pulls up half a block away, and my lips tighten when the driver's door opens, and it's the last face I want to see.