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“How was your date?” Zach hit pause on the controller, freezing the military assault on the TV in the midst of what promised to be a gory battle for honor.

“Wasn’t a date. We’re friends, hanging out. She only drummed that into the conversation twelve or thirteen thousand times.” Ben shrugged and dropped to the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table. “But it was good. I like her. She’s fun and interesting and even with the years since camp, it still seems like we have a lot in common.”

“So if you get stuck in the friend zone?”

Ben made a face. “I don’t know. If that happens, then presumably God will show me someone else He has for me, right?”

“Don’t look at me, man. I don’t have any answers. I’m stuck in the friend zone with Amy right now, too. Despite my efforts to the contrary. She was ticked that the dinner over here was all couples. She thought it was going to be a big party and told me I’d taken her out on a date under false pretenses.”

“Wow.” Ben grabbed the second controller and powered it on. “Two questions.”

“Shoot.”

“If you knew that someone had changed their name to hide their past, would you trust that they really were the person you were in love with?”

Zach cleared his throat. “Is the second question easier? Because I don’t know how to answer that one without falling back on the old chestnut of needing to pray about it and trusting God to make it clear one way or the other.”

That was the same conclusion Ben had come to on the drive home. Why couldn’t it be easier? Something cut and dry. He nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Second question: is this game multiplayer?”

Zach grinned. “Of course. Let’s hit it.”

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Ben stared at the ceiling. There were really only two options. He could give up, and move on. That seemed to be what Rebecca wanted him to do. Certainly it was she expected him to do. Was she used to people walking away so easily? Was that the problem? There was a certain appeal to that solution. It would mean he didn’t have to figure out where the line between fact and fiction lay when it came to the many exploits of Becky MacDonald. If even half of what Dr. MacDonald said she’d done was true...he huffed out a breath. It didn’t seem possible. He couldn’t reconcile the stories with the girl he’d known at camp. Or the woman he knew now. But what if it was true? If she’d changed, truly changed, and wasn’t still living like that, could he love her? Forgive her? That was, at least, easier. It wasn’t as if he was perfect. So yeah, Christ had forgiven her. He could too.

Which left the other option. Persevere.

He sighed and rolled to his side. Did he do that on his terms or hers? Could he do it on hers? If she had her way, wouldn’t he simply walk away? Sure, they’d had fun together today, almost as if the years between camp and now hadn’t happened. But there was still a distance. A huge distance. At camp, he would have taken her hand or slipped an arm around her shoulders. And she would’ve welcomed that, reciprocated. Today, whenever their hands bumped, she moved away or crossed her arms. It was possible that she’d come around to see things the same way at some point. But how old would they be? They’d already wasted ten years because he hadn’t been able to track her down.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t wasted. He’d dated during that time. And those experiences had made it clear, to him at least, that Rebecca was the woman he wanted. That she was the woman God had for him. He scoffed. Was that presumptuous? It wasn’t as if there’d been some voice booming from heaven telling him, “Ben, here is the woman I want you to marry.” Just quiet, subtle things that made him realize no matter who he was with, Rebecca was a better fit. And that all rested on the assumption that the woman he knew—and the girl he’d known—was, in fact, who he loved. She used a different name, sure, but her heart was the same now as it was then. So did it make sense that what he knew was the true person, regardless of label?

He could confront her with the truth. There was definitely an appeal to that. Just lay all the cards on the table and see what she did. His gut twisted. She’d run. And at some point, when someone ran away that many times, didn’t you have to let them go? No, confrontation wasn’t the right option. Not with her.

So where did that leave him?

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“You look rough.” Jackson pulled another mug down from the cabinet and offered it to Ben.

“Thanks.” Ben grabbed the coffee pot and poured. “Long night.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just trying to untangle this thing with Rebecca, figure out what I’m supposed to do.” Ben stirred half-and-half into his mug and carried it to the table.

“Any luck?” Jackson pulled out the chair across from him.

Ben blew across the top of his coffee. “I have a plan. I’m not sure it’s right, but praying about it hasn’t given me any ideas beyond this one. So...I’m going with it.”

“Going with what?” Zach shuffled into the room and grabbed a banana from the bowl in the middle of the table before dropping into a chair.

“His plan for wooing Rebecca.”

“Wooing?” Ben shook his head. “What century are you from? Wooing.”

Jackson shrugged. “Paige has been choosing these Jane Austen movies to watch. Once you get past the costumes, they’re not half bad.”

Zach laughed. “Dude. You might as well trade in your pants for frilly dresses. No guy admits to liking those things. Just propose already, she’s taken possession of your man card anyway.”

“Spoken like a guy whose efforts to evade the friend zone have been thoroughly thwarted.” Jackson sipped his coffee and jerked his head toward Ben. “You were getting ready to tell us your plan.”

“I wasn’t, actually. It’s not a plan, really. I’m going to ask her out. Officially. Take her on a real date and make it clear that it’s all or nothing. Because that’s where I am. I want her in my life. Permanently. And if she isn’t willing to be there, then there’s no point in torturing either of us.”

“Wow.” Zach took a bite of banana. “What if she walks away?”

Ben hunched his shoulders. It was the worst-case scenario, but a plausible one. “Then I trust that God has someone else for me. But let’s be honest. If she’s not the woman I’m going to marry, there’s no point in having a solid friendship with her, that’s just going to be misunderstood down the line by the woman I am supposed to marry. Once you’re involved with someone, you can’t be best friends with someone of the opposite sex. Maybe you can be couple friends, if they have a significant other too, but that’s the best you can hope for. So if Rebecca isn’t willing to consider a future with me, then for both of our sakes, I’m going to have to move on.”

“You think you can?” Jackson snagged an orange from the fruit bowl and tossed it from one hand to the other.

Ben rubbed his hands across his face as his chest tightened. It wouldn’t be easy. He’d had ten years of failing miserably to do just that. “I don’t know. But I’ll have to.”