Sitting across from Calla in the empty restaurant, Valerie copied her friend’s movements and folded the napkin in front of her to her specifications then put it in the stack next to her. Through the kitchen door, she could hear voices, occasional banging, and rattling. The sharp smell of garlic combined with a sweet caramel smell that confused her brain.

“Did he really just flatten the man?” Calla stopped folding and looked at Valerie. She nudged her glasses back up her face.

“It was fascinating. I’ve seen him do it before, of course, practicing with his brothers when we were younger. But you never think that kind of thing would happen in the real world. It was really….”

Calla grinned. “Exhilarating?”

With a chuckle, Valerie picked up another napkin. “I’m sure it should have been to any normal red-blooded woman. However, I reacted badly.”

For a few moments, Calla didn’t speak. Finally, she said, “So you removed that other guy from the picture and in your mind substituted yourself. Suddenly, you saw how easily Mr. Di—I mean, Brad—could hurt you.”

She had simplified it, of course, but that was basically it. “Right.” She sighed and slapped a newly folded napkin onto the pile. “And he knew it.”

Calla leaned forward and put a hand on her forearm. “Do you honestly think he ever would? I mean, really? Do you even think he has it in him?”

Valerie opened her mouth to deny it immediately, then shut it again. What did she think? “I think that I learned how powerless I actually am. It’s not that I think he would or that he wants to. It’s how powerless I am to stop him if he does.”

Calla sat back and stared at her. Finally, she said, “I don’t have your experience. It’s not up to me to say what you should or shouldn’t think or feel. But I will tell you that assigning someone else’s evil to another person isn’t going to help you. There will come a time when you believe that, or else you’re going to just be scared and paranoid the rest of your life.”

Thoughts crashed against each other in her mind. She couldn’t focus on one thing to think about. She quit trying to act busy with her hands and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “I don’t want to think that way,” she said quietly. Hot tears pricked her eyes. “I want to be able to relax and enjoy life. I don’t seek out the thoughts.”

Calla immediately stood and rushed to her side of the table. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it that way.” She sat in the chair next to her and angled her body toward her, putting an arm over the back of her chair. “I wasn’t criticizing. But, in all these years of therapy you’ve had, you’ve never turned to God with it. Maybe if you relax, open up to Him, you’ll find a peace that will settle into your soul. That’s when you will be able to love and be loved without fear.”

She had never tried any counseling that would bring her closer to God. Did it work that way? Did a personal connection exist that would help heal her? She thought about her mother’s journals, about her certainty through everything in life that God talked to her and that He cared about what happened to her. Could she find that, too? How did one go about doing that?

“Maybe you’re right. It seems like I remember something Auntie Rose gave me, some sort of support group through the church. I’ll look that up and see. Maybe they can help me know how to pray and what to pray for.”

“I think that’s perfect.” Calla put a hand on her shoulder. “In the meantime, I’m here if you need me. So is Sami.”

Valerie smiled. “Thank you.”

Following the classroom signs, Valerie made her way down the church hallway until she came to the right classroom. Nerves danced in her stomach, and she put her hand flat against them as if to quiet them. Letting out a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Valerie didn’t know what she expected. Her last experience with a support group for survivors of domestic abuse had taken place in a YMCA community room. Everyone sat in a circle in metal chairs and uncomfortably stared at each other, while a couple people took turns talking about how bad they’d had it. At the time, she felt like it was a giant pity party and a huge waste of her time.

When she walked into this classroom, though, she stopped short, thinking she’d come to the wrong room. Madison Brown and a white woman with curly dark hair stood at a snack table, taking plastic wrap and lids off brownies, veggie trays, and a cheese ball. In another part of the room, two Hispanic looking women talked and laughed, their faces happy and relaxed.

When she walked into the room, Madison left her station and approached her. “Valerie Flynn,” she said warmly, “I had hoped you’d find out about us and join us.”

Of all the things she imagined Madison would say, that did not approach anywhere near the top. “You did?”

Instead of shaking her hand, Madison hugged her then stepped back and turned, keeping an arm around her shoulder. She walked them over to the snacks. “Yes. When you went through what you went through, this whole church was praying for you. The day it all happened, we had a prayer vigil here for you until you came out of surgery.”

They stopped at the table with the food and Madison released her, stepping away and turning to face her. “Of course, we don’t know everything that happened. No one does, and Buddy keeps mostly to himself. But I know some of it. I’ve seen you attending regularly the last few weeks and wanted to invite you but didn’t know how to approach you properly.”

“Wow. I, uh, I’m a little overwhelmed by that.” The thought that the entire church had done that first embarrassed her then provided her with an unexpected sense of security and belonging.

“I imagine you are.” She gestured at the woman who currently unwrapped a stack of small dessert plates. “Crystal, this is Valerie. Crystal is my right-hand with this group. I could not do it without her.”

Crystal put the plates down and put out her hand. “Valerie, welcome.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Flynn. Are you related to Buddy?”

“Yes. I’m his niece.” She looked toward the door as an older black woman came in. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” she said, turning her attention back to Crystal.

Madison gestured to the group across the room. “We’ll all have a chance to get to know each other later. I just want you to feel comfortable here. We have an agreement that nothing that is said here is ever repeated, even to our significant others. It is a safe room.” She looked at her watch. “We’ll give it another few minutes. We’re missing about three regulars.”

Twenty minutes later, Valerie sat in a comfortable wingback chair, a steaming cup of tea in her hand, a plate of strawberries and grapes on the little table next to her. She felt less anxious, more relaxed, and, strangely, safe. Madison had opened them up with prayer, everyone went around the room and introduced themselves, and then Madison started talking.

Valerie listened to every word with rapt attention as Madison talked about the abusive boyfriend in college who had broken her jaw while sexually assaulting her. She talked about going back to him even as she struggled to nourish herself with a jaw wired shut, crying for him to forgive her, putting herself in jeopardy without ever considering leaving.

So many things she said, so many trigger words, resonated with Valerie. Tears fell down her face as Madison related the experience of killing an unborn child to make him happy then waking up one morning as if from a dream and realizing she had nothing right or good or acceptable about her current circumstances.

“It’s easy to sit back on the outside and see what was wrong. I didn’t even know the depths of hell I’d entered until I took myself out of it and went home to my parents.” Madison looked each woman in the eye. “I went to doctors and therapists and groups and nothing fixed me. Not until I let go and forgave myself, forgave him, and let God have His way in my heart. That’s why we’re here tonight, sisters, so that we can help each other, pray for each other, and bring each one of us to a place where God fills even those dark places inside of us that are closed off to Him because we’re ashamed, or scared, or afraid to let go of that darkness.”

She tapped a finger on her chest in the spot over her heart. “I not only had to face God about my circumstances, but the choice I made to end the life of an innocent child He had started to knit in my womb. And you know what?” A tear slid down her cheek. “He forgave me, He loves me, and He wiped that slate clean. Now I have my beautiful Miriam, and every time I look in her face, I feel His love of me as my Father, and I know that the depth of forgiveness I sought actually exists.”

Silence settled over the room for a few moments, then one of the women sitting next to Valerie spoke. “I don’t know how to get beyond the end. I got out. I got help. But my mind won’t let me go. I think about the years lost and the relationships I let fade all in the name of trying to make a man who hated himself and hated me love me.” A sob ripped from her chest. “How do I make that go away?”

Oh, how much she knew what this woman felt and thought and feared! Valerie could not stop the tears from falling from her eyes. Madison walked over to the woman and knelt next to her chair. “You can’t do anything except forgive yourself, forgive him, and turn to God. There are no wasted years. There are no wasted relationships. God’s word tells us that He’ll take even the bad things and make them good. His love is infallible. When you are able to trust Him enough to accept that love, then you will start to feel His work inside of you.”

She stood and walked over to a whiteboard. “I’m going to go over some verses with you that will help all of us see what I’m talking about.”

Valerie reached into her purse and pulled out her Bible. She’d had a feeling she would need it tonight. Using her napkin, she dried her face and her eyes and opened the Bible to the book of Romans, prepared to hear every word Madison spoke.

An hour later, she stood and tossed her empty plate and cup into the trash can. She felt energized but at the same time sad to see the meeting end. She walked up to Madison. “Thank you for sharing your story,” she said.

“I try to about once a year. I encourage everyone to share, but not all of us are as comfortable baring the depths of our souls to a group of women they may or may not know.” She laughed, obviously teasing. “Just know that if you ever need a friend, someone who understands, I’m here.”

“I appreciate that.” She slipped her purse over her shoulder. “I am trying to find a way to trust in a relationship. I think you gave me some good tools and a starting point.”

Madison put a hand on her shoulder. “And a group that I hope you will return to.”

She nodded. “It is definitely on my schedule. I’ll see you Sunday.”

Valerie stood on the gazebo platform and watched a fat bumblebee crawl through a magnolia bloom. The sound of footsteps on the path made her tense, and she turned. When she saw Brad, a nervous butterfly started dancing in her stomach replacing her fearful tension.

“Permission to come aboard?” he asked gently.

Despite her feelings about him right now, she said, “Aye,” which was far from what she wanted to say. However, since he asked her to meet him, she thought she ought to let him “come aboard.”

“Thanks for coming over.”

He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a black golf-style T-shirt with the red Dixon Brothers Contracting logo over the pocket. She hadn’t seen him in several days. His drawn face looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes. Out of character, his hair looked shaggy and he needed a shave.

“I wanted to hear what you had to say,” she said coolly. She gingerly lowered herself to the bench. Her hip ached today, which made her think some summer storm system bore down on them.

“My dad came and talked to me the other night and made me realize something.”

“Oh?” She bit her tongue on words like, “That you’ve been a jerk? That you’ve blamed me for what happened.” Saying something like that would not make this planned meeting end any sooner.

“Yeah.” He walked over to the bench next to her and stood on it. Looking up, she watched as he lifted his arms and jumped, grabbing the beam above him. With apparent ease, he pulled himself up and grabbed something from on top of it. He swung down with a loud thud, then hopped off the bench. When he handed her the box, she gasped.

“Our dreams and desires box,” she whispered, examining the metal tin, noting the rust on the edges where the lid met the box. She looked up at him, and he sat next to her but did not touch her. “We’re supposed to wait until we’re thirty to open this.”

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” he said. “Go ahead.”

She pried open the lid and rust dusted her lap and coated her hands. Reaching in, she pulled out her envelope, trying to remember what she’d written. The seal easily came loose on the envelope.

She cleared her throat and read out loud.

“I would like to come back and live at the castle. I want to stay and hate that Buddy is moving us away. So, I’m going to go to college, become an architect, and move back into our cottage. By thirty, if I’m not married to Brad, I hope I’m married to a man who loves me and who doesn’t mind that my best friends are three identical men, because they’ll always be a part of my life.”

Her breath hitched and tears came to her eyes. “How had I forgotten this so thoroughly?”

“If you’re not married to Brad?” He cleared his throat. “I never knew you felt that way, Val.”

Regret warred with embarrassment. “I never dreamed you’d feel the same way. I thought you thought of me as a sister.”

He leaned close and reached around her to pull out his envelope. He handed it to her. “Please read mine.”

As with hers, the gum on the envelope had long given up its stickiness. She pulled out the single notebook paper and a photo. She looked at the photo first—a picture of Brad and her sitting together at Thanksgiving dinner. When Rosaline had prompted them for the picture, Brad had put his arm around her chair and leaned close to her.

Valerie’s hands began to tremble as she unfolded the paper. She cleared her throat and read Brad’s neat handwriting.

“My hopes and dreams: to marry Valerie Flynn and love her every minute of my life while we live in the cottage on the estate so our children can grow up surrounded by our family. I dream of a day when skin color means nothing, especially because that’s why Buddy is moving her away from us. One day, diversity won’t be a word that is used to build barriers and rip people apart. I love Valerie, and one day she’ll see it and love me, too.”

With careful movements, she folded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope. Brad sat down next to her. “Dad reminded me that despite my longing, my deepest desires, my biggest hopes, I never once told you. I sat back and just hoped you’d notice.” He paused and she looked at him. The storm in his eyes made her breath hitch.

“You were the only woman I ever loved. I loved you so much, but I wasn’t very mature about it. I thought that you would just see it and feel it like I did. So, I kept quiet and expected you to just come to your senses someday.”

He shook his head. “That was stupid. And I’m sorry. And I’m sorry that you left for college without a word from me. That’s my fault, too. At the time I thought if it were meant to be, you’d just come to me. Rather passive of me.”

Her mind swirled. How did she process this? “What would have happened if one of us had just said something?” She clutched both letters, intending to examine them when her mind stopped whirling. “I have to go.”

When she stood, he reached out and took her hand. “Wait, please.”

She jerked her hand away reflexively and watched as a look of resignation crossed his face. “Brad, here’s the problem. I am going to react. I’m going to flinch and jump and startle. I’m going to obsessively check my environment and double-check my house and make sure all my doors are locked. I am way better than I was three or four years ago. I’ll be better three or four years from now. But like my limp, I cannot help how I react to movements and actions, especially of men. You don’t like it. You think I’m reacting to you, but I’m not.”

He stood and reached for her hand again. “I think I’m starting to understand that. I apologize for taking it personally. I think part of it was worrying about what it was doing to you.”

“It doesn’t do anything to me. It’s just reflex.”

He stepped closer and ran his hands up her arms. “Then I’ll learn not to worry about you over it, if you’ll give me another chance to not be a presumptive jerk.”

Feeling the chaos in her heart start to settle and right itself, she leaned forward and put her forehead on his chest. “Deal,” she whispered as his arms came around her.