The next morning, despite the utter agony her body was in, Angela headed out to find Simon. Maybe he’d give her the 4–1–1 on their situation.
Rain still tumbled from above and slicked off Angela’s rain poncho onto the muddy ground. The once-azure sky had grayed and purpled. It would have been a beautiful mixture if it didn’t mean the demise of a dream.
On her way to the media tent, the only competitors she saw out and about were huddled together under a pop-up canopy, their breath releasing in puffs as they spoke in low tones made unintelligible to Angela’s ears by the rain.
So far there was no sign of Marc or Eva, though after last night’s events, Angela expected both to stay tucked away—Marc to lick his wounds and Eva to continue despairing. Angela had done her best to console her sister-in-law, and when Eva had finally fallen into a fitful sleep, Angela had snuck back to her own tent and attempted the same.
But every time her eyes closed, she’d seen a future she wasn’t all that excited about. Yes, she and Marc had just spoken yesterday about setting her up with a position at company headquarters when she returned. Only forty hours a week and good pay and benefits. But once again, she was falling, not choosing. Circumstances were dictating her life instead of Angela being in control of her destiny. And yes, she could still try to go after what she wanted—if she could ever truly figure out what that was.
But at what point did a person admit defeat?
Still, maybe Simon could offer her an inkling of hope—something small to cling to.
“Ang!”
Turning, she caught sight of him striding toward her from a copse of trees, his clothing rumpled, a dusting of stubble along his jaw. There was something appealing about a man who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed . . .
She shook herself. “I was just looking for you.”
“In that case, take a walk with me?”
Did she really want to walk more than absolutely necessary right now? But she wouldn’t want him to get in trouble for giving her insider information, so they needed to speak privately. “Where?”
Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her toward a little trail traversing up a hill that overlooked the campsite. Ugh.
Just a few more steps, Angela. Then you can sit again.
Once they’d walked in silence for several torturous minutes, she spoke up. “So what’s going on with the race?”
“It’s still not looking good. Just wait a moment and I’ll tell you more.”
Suddenly the trail ended and the trees fell away. They were at the top of the bluff, where a small overhang sat tucked into the side of the hill, almost like a cave but not quite. Simon indicated that she was to climb under first, so she did. He crawled in after her.
“So it’s not looking promising?”
“I believe they’re going to give it another few hours and then call it if the rain doesn’t let up.”
Angela nodded, resigned. What more could she say?
Simon moved closer to her, their shoulders almost touching. “Last night you said things don’t change for you.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head so he could see her. “What did you mean?”
So he hadn’t just pulled her up here to talk about the race.
She bit her lip, considering how to begin. “As a child, I had high hopes for my life. Big dreams, you know? I wanted to be someone important, like my aunt. To have a career that helped people, and yes, that also provided for all my financial needs so I didn’t need to be dependent on anyone else. Life and my own mistakes derailed those dreams, though God still gave me something amazing. And I settled into those blessings and, in a way, I embraced them. Then Wes died.”
She paused. “And once again I was given a life I hadn’t asked for. It took me awhile to dream again. But here I am, once again disappointed. I’m so tired of the constant ups and downs, always feeling kneed in the gut just when I think things are finally going to go the way I’d hoped.” Angela shrugged. “But maybe I simply need to be content with what I have and stop asking for more.”
“But what’s life without dreams?”
“Why dream when you know all you’ll get is let down?” Angela sighed, pulling her knees into her chest. “I’m choosing to be logical. A realist.”
“Logic isn’t a bad thing, but a lot of things can’t be explained by it. If you stay rooted in your limited world, only among things you understand, you’re going to miss out on a lot.” He pulled Angela’s hand into his, running his fingers over the ridges of her knuckles. His touch brought a shiver down her spine, as did his words. “Life is about dreaming, even if those dreams never come to fruition. God is the planter of dreams, and in his timing, he will make those dreams grow. But we have to keep watering them, keep hoping, even when life throws things at us we don’t expect.”
Angela shook her head. “I don’t know how. Everything’s so jumbled. All I do know is when I want something—really want it—it doesn’t happen. What am I supposed to do with that?”
For a moment Simon considered her. “Angela, what do you really want out of life? And I don’t mean what things do you want to do, or what relationships do you want to improve, or what job do you want to have. What’s that underlying thing you want out of life?”
Her eyes slid back to the rain-sodden trees beyond the cave, their leaves dancing, never doing the same move twice. How could she sum it all up in a few mere words?
“I used to think it was stability. That’s what I really grew up valuing, because I didn’t have it. And I thought I had to achieve it on my own. Thought I could achieve it by becoming a doctor. Then I married Wes, and he provided it for a while. Until he didn’t. Now, though? I think I just want to find a balance between dreaming and being content with where I am. Not settling, but also recognizing when I don’t have control over a situation—and finding peace in that.”
Yes, yes, yes. Her soul leapt at the words.
Simon squeezed her fingers. “You’re there, I think. Look at how you’ve already broken free of the past. So things don’t look the way you thought they would, eh? You’re still here, and a different woman at that.”
She had changed, hadn’t she? But there was so much growth that needed to happen before she was fully transformed.
“I want to keep changing.” Angela wiped away the moisture dripping from her eyes. “I’m so afraid of getting stuck again, though.”
“You don’t have to do it alone, you know. Let God help you.” Simon leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Let me help you.”
Angela closed her eyes. If only. Even if she could bring herself to try again with a new relationship, Simon lived halfway around the world—and that seemed to set them up for the biggest disappointment of all. “I . . .”
“It doesn’t have to be a big decision right now, eh? Finish this race if possible, then go home, settle back in, write me, call.” Simon smoothed her hair back. “We’ll suss it out from there.”
She didn’t know whether it was possible to work things out, but right now hope nestled in. “I can’t believe you aren’t running the other direction.”
The incredulous look that passed over his face would have been comical if it didn’t sear her in the gut. “Not even close.”
He leaned toward her—and she finally gave in to her impulse to hook her arms around his neck and pull him near.
Then Simon surprised her by kissing her cheek where the tears had been. “Not.” Then the other cheek. “Even.” Finally, he pulled his face back just slightly so their noses touched. “Close.”
He stayed there, watching her, waiting. For what?
Oh.
For her.
He was giving her a choice.
Angela wound her fingers into Simon’s hair, shut her eyes, and allowed him to kiss her. It was soft and sweet—a gentle pressing of their souls together as she lifted a prayer for the strength to dream again.
The kiss ended, and Simon nudged her, pointing outside the cave. “Look. The rain. It’s stopped.”