Page 38 of Penance (Rising From the Ashes #2)

Lily

I t’s another Saturday morning in which my attempt to pretend I’m laid back is interrupted by a noise outside my house. Only this time, it’s a banging on my door, not a saw running in my front yard.

For one split second, I think about hiding under my covers and leaving the person to knock. But in the end, the incessant knocking decides for me because whoever is at my door won’t stop until I answer it.

With a long, drawn-out groan, I roll out of bed, adjust my silk pajama set, and walk to the door, and then I blow out a breath of relief when I see it’s not Theo standing there. It’s MJ.

Through the glass, I see her bounce up and down on her toes, her red ponytail moving with her. The woman is a force to be reckoned with, but she absolutely cannot sit still.

Spying me coming down the hall, she gives a little wave. Her energy is so infectious that I can’t help but wave back.

“Hey,” I say, cracking the door open, but like in every other part of my life, MJ shoves her way into the house.

“Get dressed. Your presence is needed.”

“Umm, actually, I was planning on hanging out around here today. I have things I need to finish up. ”

MJ isn’t listening. She isn’t even standing there anymore. She’s heading down the hall toward my room, and I chase after her.

“No, ma’am. No excuses. You’re coming with me. Here,” she says, grabbing an outfit from my closet and throwing it at me, “put this on.”

“Fine,” I say, giving in because MJ has that look in her eye, and she’s likely to do something crazy if I say no. “But at least tell me where we are going.”

A glow washes over MJ’s face when she says, “To my final dress fitting.”

The only bridal store in our area is two counties over and over an hour away.

MJ spends the whole drive chattering while I figure out how to be normal and carry on small talk.

Since the day Abigail told me the Birdies see me as cold, I’ve spent every waking moment thinking about how I can change, and I realized that most of the conversations I have with people aren’t real.

They are all things I plan in my head ahead of time because I’m terrified of silence.

Because when people stop talking, they look at you—really look at you.

Abigail is already waiting for us at the bridal store when we pull in. Before I can think about what I’m asking, I turn to MJ and ask, “Does it ever intimidate you to have a mom like that?”

MJ’s face screws up into a funny look as if remembering something unpleasant, but then she smiles at me, wiping all traces of whatever that look was before.

“You have no idea,” she says, looking out the windshield to where her mother waits. “I used to feel like I’d never live up to her, but then I realized we are different people. And I gave myself grace to be myself.”

“How did you do it?”

“God.”

“No. Really,” I say, wanting the honest answer. “How did you do it?”

She shakes her head. “I’m serious. After my brother died, I carried a lot of guilt and anger.

I had no idea who I was without him, and I was so angry at my parents.

I had to learn forgiveness—both for them and myself.

It wasn’t something I could do on my own.

I wasn’t strong enough, but God was. He knew who I was long before I did. ”

There’s that word again. Forgiveness. MJ and Gwen make it sound so simple, but it’s not. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to figure out how to forgive my mom for what she did, and I’ve failed every time.

______________________

MJ’s dress as fitting was nice. I actually had fun, and her dress was beautiful. We went out for lunch afterward, and I didn’t feel that overwhelming pressure to put on a mask and hide. I was just—free.

Now she’s driving me back home. Everything about me feels light—that is until I see a pickup truck waiting for me in my drive.

In a panic, I grab MJ’s arm.

”Don’t leave me here,” I beg. “Come inside with me.”

There’s laughter in her eyes when she glances at me as she pulls into the drive, blocking Theo’s truck.

“Does this have anything to do with the rumor I heard about you kissing him at the cookout?” she asks. Her voice is strained, trying to smother her laughter.

“Stupid small towns,” I mutter under my breath. Louder, I say, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, please don’t leave.”

She doesn’t hold back her laughter this time. It breaks free, and I know I’m screwed.

“I’m going to leave,” she says around each laugh. “But not because I’m a bad friend. I’m leaving because I’m a good friend, and I have a feeling you need to face whatever you’re avoiding there.”

MJ points her finger toward Theo’s truck, and I let my gaze follow.

Just like he was the day he asked me to date him—or fake date him—Theo is leaning against his truck, his arms crossed over his chest, and dang it if he doesn’t look good doing it.

I groan, and MJ laughs harder, reaching over to open my door .

“Good luck, she says, basically kicking me out.

Giving her one last glare for good measure, I get out of her car, dragging my feet up the driveway as I go.

“Hopeless,” Theo says with a smirk, but I ignore him, marching past him to the front porch, which no longer has loose boards because of him.

He follows.

Pushing my key into the lock, I try to slip inside and close the door, but Theo catches it, pulling it shut and boxing me in. I turn around to yell at him, but the words dry up in my throat. Theo towers over me, handsome and angry. One arm rests above my head while the other falls to my waist.

I don’t even know why I’m avoiding him this time. After he dropped me off to get my car from the store on the way back from Gwen’s, things between us were okay. I wouldn’t call us best friends, but the awkwardness from the kiss was gone. But now I find myself running for reasons that scare me.

“Are you planning on kidnapping me again?” I say, putting my hands on my hips and glaring up at him.

He shrugs and smirks, and that smirk makes my head dizzy. “Depends. Are you going to make me?”

“You know, maybe this is why you have to have a fake girlfriend. Because instead of asking a girl on a date, you just kidnap her.”

Theo’s smirk turns deadly. “If you wanted a date, hopeless, all you had to do was ask.”

“Ugh,” I say, dropping my head against the door. “You are infuriating.”

He leans his head down until we are eye to eye. “Have dinner with me, hopeless.”

I open my mouth to say no, but he beats me to it. “Please.

And it’s the please that gets me.