The mental image hits me fast, and I chuckle, imagining her wearing floaties on either arm. “Nah, I think you’d look adorable.”
“Adorable?” she grins.
My stomach flips. “Something like that.” The cell phone in my back pocket buzzes, so I withdraw it and check the readout. Lani’s name flashes on the screen. I tap to answer, then press the cell up to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hey there yourself, big brother,” Lani greets happily.
“How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Just left the clinic and wanted to check in on you.”
“I’m fine. Making dinner.”
“For yourself?”
I snort. “I’m assuming you know Emma is here?”
“A birdie told me.”
“That birdie named Riley?”
“You know he’s not great with secrets. The guy could be his own telegram company. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I know you will be, I’m asking if you are okay. After our talk?”
I shift my gaze to Emma, who’s standing near the grassy area and studying it like she’s picking out a plot for every single flower she plans to plant. Flowers I have every intention of going out and buying the first chance I get. “I’m doing good, sis, thanks for checking.”
“Anytime. All right, you know where I am if you need me. Love you.”
“Love you too.” After ending the call, I shove the phone back into my pocket and check the burgers. Since they’re ready to flip, I grab my spatula and flip both patties.
“Those smell delicious.” Emma walks up onto the porch and leans in closer to the grill, inhaling as she does. “I am so hungry.”
My vision swims, heart rate increasing in an instant. Sweat beads on the back of my neck, and I have to physically take a step back as that familiar panic begins to set in at her closeness. From the look on her face—she notices.
“I’m sorry,” she says as she quickly moves farther away.
I take three deep breaths to steady myself. Embarrassment heats my cheeks. Pathetic. I’m pathetic. “It’s okay.”
“I just forget sometimes.” She crosses her arms, gripping each elbow with the opposite hand. It’s her way of closing herself off, of trying to appear smaller than she is so I don’t lose my head.
How ridiculous is it that she has to?
“It’s okay,” I say again, this time a bit sterner. Not because I’m angry at her but because I hate myself for how I respond. She didn’t even touch me, and my body reacted as though I was facing down an armed assault. “I need to go grab something to carry these in on.”
She nods, so I head into the house, pausing in the kitchen a moment to catch my breath. Tears burn in my eyes. I want so badly to be normal. To be a man who deserves Emma. Will I ever be that man?
Or will she find someone else and move on before I am?
My gaze lands on the Bible on my counter.
On the ribbon bookmark hanging out from the bottom of it.
“If you look for Me wholeheartedly, you will find Me.” I read that in Jeremiah 29 just this evening. Right before Emma got here.
I’m looking. Why haven’t I found Him yet? Why hasn’t He taken this pain from me? Made me whole again? Will He ever?
