Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I kissed Isaac’s bare shoulder as tears burned my eyes. Why did he have to remind me that I didn’t hate God? Why did he have to be the better person? Despite the unimaginable tragedy and loss, I had Isaac. And when we were as close as physically possible, I could breathe.
I didn’t feel hollow.
And even in the dark room, he helped me see the light.
“Isaac,” I curled my fingers into his hard glutes, “thank … you.”
Thank you for taking it away.
Isaac rocked his pelvis into mine with purpose, slowly losing control with me. His calloused hands brushed along my cheeks before diving into my hair as he kissed me with an open mouth and a deep moan vibrating his chest.
My heart lost all control. Isaac didn’t think I belonged to anyone, but he was so very wrong. I wanted to be his in every way possible.
No more coveting.
I wanted to be his world because he was mine.
For a moment, I felt nothing but waves of pleasure, and I didn’t want it to end. Then he pulled out, and I was swimming in too much bliss, and the room was too dark to see what he was doing. But when he grunted and moaned deeply, I realized he had his hand around his erection, and he was coming on my stomach instead of inside of me.
Isaac dropped his forehead to my shoulder. We were drenched in sweat and my skin pulsed from head to toe.
Condoms.
I didn’t once think about a condom. A million other emotions consumed my mind, preventing me from having a single responsible thought about a condom. But his withdrawal brought a little clarity—and a little panic.
“Isaac,” I whispered, slowly unlocking my ankles from his waist.
He threaded his fingers through my sticky hair and kissed my cheek. “Yeah?”
“If I get pregnant, I won’t—”
“I know,” he murmured.
“You don’t know.” I teased the nape of his neck, resting my head against his. “I’m not Danielle. I won’t get—”
“I. Know,” he said, skating his hands along my legs to my hips. “I didn’t …” He sighed. “I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to do.” He unhooked my legs from his waist and stepped back. Then he turned on the light as I eased off the wood counter.
With an old rag, he wiped off my stomach. “For the record, I’m not trying to get you pregnant.” After tossing the rag aside, he pulled on his briefs and jeans as I slipped on my shorts.
“My bra and our shirts are out there.” I nodded toward the door.
“Did you hear me?” he asked, zipping his jeans.
I glanced up at him.
“I’m not that guy,” he said.
I didn’t want to accuse him of anything, but what happened, happened. He couldn’t erase the past or blame me for needing to make my position clear.
“And I told you I’m not that girl, the one who gets an abortion.” Pleasers, like myself, got lost in everyone else’s expectations. But of all of my relationships, my one with God was the most complex, which was odd since He was the only one I believed loved me unconditionally—at least I thought that before the accident.
I wanted to be a good human, but I wasn’t perfect. My values were personal, and I didn’t want my dad or anyone else telling me what I should do or think. But it had been my experience that the people who cared for me held strong opinions about my life and my decisions.
But not Isaac.
He opened his mouth to speak just as the door to the barn creaked. I covered my breasts, and my heart exploded with panic. He held a finger to his lips and shut off the light before cracking open the tack room door, squeezing through, and closing it behind him.
I was being punished. God had it in for me.
“What are you doing?”
I held my breath. It was Matt’s voice.
“Whatever I want. Why?” Isaac said.
“Dude, you have a girl in there?”
My bra.
“I do. Would you mind getting out of here and shutting the door behind you?”
“That’s …” Matt’s voice paused. “Sarah has that shirt.”
I closed my eyes, fighting the tears.
“Good for her. What’s your point?”
Isaac didn’t know it was over. The lie was out. Matt got me that shirt at the State Fair the previous year. He won it by playing a carnival game.
“Sarah?” Matt said with a tight voice.
“Dude, get the fuck out of here,” Isaac said.
The tack room door rattled.
“Sarah!”
“Get the fuck out of here!”
“She’s in there! Get out of my way. Sarah!”
There was a clanging noise, and one of the horses neighed.
“I swear to God, if she’s in there, I’m going to kill you,” Matt said.
“Get your hands off me,” Isaac said. “Or you’ll regret it.”
I didn’t even try to wipe my tears before I opened the door, grabbing a horse blanket to wrap around my torso. Both men turned toward me. Isaac deflated as tears streamed down my face while I kept my gaze locked on Matt’s.