Page 42 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

His voice is gentle but firm, the kind that leaves no room for argument. I swallow back my questions, nodding even though it leaves a thousand loose threads dangling between us.

“Okay,” I whisper.

He exhales, shoulders sagging slightly. “I just…I need a minute. Alright?”

I nod again, feeling a sting of hurt I can’t explain. He steps back, hands still gripping the back of his neck, and leans against the wall, staring at the ceiling like he’s searching for answers.

I linger for a second longer, waiting for him to look at me, to say something that will make it better. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, eyes closed, breathing deeply like he’s trying to regain control.

Finally, I turn, slipping back out into the hallway, my heart heavier than when I walked in.

Who is Claire?

Why won’t he tell me?

And more importantly…what kind of woman did he love before me?

The line rings twice before Harper picks up, her voice bright and teasing. “Changed your mind already, huh?”

I can’t help but laugh, though it feels forced. “Guess I’m in the mood for waffles after all.”

“Good,” she chirps. “We’re at Rosie’s. You want us to wait for you?”

“I’ll be there in ten.” I hang up, taking a deep breath before starting my car. I try to push Gray and Claire out of my mind, but her name lingers like a shadow, creeping into every thought.

The drive to Rosie’s Diner is short, and I pull into the gravel lot to find Harper and Olivia already settled at a corner booth, cups of coffee steaming in front of them.

Harper waves me over, her expression warm and inviting.

I muster up a smile and head inside, the bell above the door jingling as I enter.

“Look who decided to join us,” Harper announces as I slide into the booth across from her.

“Couldn’t miss out on those waffles,” I reply, forcing a grin.

Olivia nudges the extra mug of coffee toward me. “Figured you’d want one.”

“Thanks.” I take a sip, the warmth settling my nerves just a bit.

Harper wastes no time, diving into her menu with a kind of intensity that only she can manage. “I’m thinking blueberry pancakes this time. What about you guys?”

I shrug. “Waffles, I guess.”

Olivia just nods, her eyes flicking between me and Harper.

“So,” Harper says, folding her menu and setting it aside. “Did you get to talk to Gray? Is he ok?”

My hand stills on my coffee mug. I swallow, trying to sound casual. “Oh, he…uh, he had plans with the worship team. I didn’t want to bother him.”

Olivia glances over her menu, eyes sharp. “Did you two get into a fight?”

“No!” I rush to say, my voice a little too high. I clear my throat. “No, everything’s fine. He’s just…bu sy.”

They exchange a look I can’t quite decipher. Harper leans back, crossing her arms. “Well, if you say so.”

I force a smile and change the subject. “So, what were you guys talking about before I got here?”

Harper and Olivia glance at each other, almost like they’re deciding who’s going to speak first. Finally, Olivia sighs, setting her menu down. “We were actually talking about church…and faith.”

My eyebrows lift. “Oh?”

Olivia hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin. “I don’t know…I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You and Harper seem so at home there. Like you belong. I just…don’t feel that way.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s easy.” I say.

Olivia’s gaze sharpens, turning back to me. “But it is for you. I mean…you didn’t even go to church a few months ago. Now you’re practically a regular.”

The words sting more than I expect. “I mean…yeah. I guess.”

Olivia leans forward, voice dropping. “How? How did you just…change like that? Because I’ve been trying, Ivy. I really have. And it just…I don’t feel what you feel. I don’t understand it the way you do.”

I blink, completely caught off guard. “I…I don’t know. It’s not like it happened overnight.”

“Didn’t it?” she asks, her voice sharper than I’m used to. “You go to one service, then you’re going every Sunday. You’re volunteering, doing graphics, dating the worship leader…”

Harper’s eyes widen. “Olivia…”

Olivia’s shoulders sag. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like that. I just…I don’t get it.” Her voice cracks a little, and she looks down at her coffee, fingers tapping the side of the mug. “I wish I could feel what you and Harper feel. But I don’t. And I don’t want to fake it just to fit in.”

I feel the weight of her words settle between us. For a long moment, none of us speak.

But I can still feel it—those questions lingering in the air, unspoken but heavy.

And suddenly, it’s too much.

The weight of the last twenty-four hours presses down like a dam finally breaking.

I drop my menu.

“I can’t do this,” I whisper.

Harper and Olivia both look up, startled.

My throat tightens as heat burns behind my eyes. “I don’t have the answers either, okay? I’m not some spiritual expert. I don’t even know what I’m doing half the time.”

“Ivy…” Harper reaches for me, but I shake my head.

“No. I need to say this.” The tears fall now, hot and fast, and I don’t even try to stop them. “I feel like I’m being pulled in every direction—by God, by Gray, by all of it. And I want to believe I’m doing the right thing, but I’m scared. I’m so scared.”

Olivia stares, eyes wide. “You...are?”

I nod, breath shaking. “Gray wants so much from me. He says all these beautiful things and talks about forever and faith and baptism and I’m just…” I press the heel of my hand to my chest. “I’m still trying to figure out if I even believe in all this.”

Harper’s voice is gentle. “Of course you do…”

“No,” I cut in, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. “I mean really believe. Not just showing up at church or volunteering or smiling through Bible studies. I want to know God. I want to feel like I’m not faking it either. But I don’t know how. ”

The table is silent.

I feel my shoulders shaking, chest caving inward. Olivia’s confession cracked something open in me—but it wasn’t her fault. It was already splintering.

“I’m trying,” I whisper, barely able to speak. “But what if I’m not enough? Not for Gray. Not for God. Not even for me.”

There’s a long beat of silence, broken only by the soft clink of silverware from a nearby table.

Then Harper slides out of the booth and sits next to me, pulling me into her arms. “You don’t have to be enough,” she murmurs, her voice steady but tender.

“That’s the whole point of the gospel. None of us are enough on our own.

That’s why Jesus came. God knew we could never fix ourselves or earn our way to Him, so He did what we couldn’t.

He sent His Son to take every failure, every not-enough place, and nail it to the cross.

She squeezes me tighter, resting her cheek against my temple. “You don’t have to prove yourself, Ivy. Not to me. Not to Gray. Not even to God. Because in Christ, you already are enough. You’re already loved.”

I nod against her shoulder, but the ache doesn’t go away.

Because I’m not sure I believe it yet.

And I don’t know how to say that without breaking again.