Redemption (2 page)

When Angela left the room, a scent of musky jasmine remained. And enough heat to warm the building. Tim spent the minutes before his next class savoring the way she made him feel. But as he left his office that day his eyes settled on a plaque Kari had given him for their first anniversary. It bore the engraved image of an eagle in flight and words he remembered even now:
The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth . . . to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.

In that moment everything about serving the Lord had felt binding and restrictive. Without too much thought he swept up the plaque, dropped it in the nearest file drawer, and strode out of his office.

It remained hidden in the drawer to this day.

Tim blinked as the memory faded. The plaque no longer applied to his life; it was best left out of sight. His strength didn’t come from having a heart committed to God. Not anymore.

Since the hot August night when he and Angela first slept together, Tim’s strength had come from being with her. And from his professional accomplishments, of course. Tim had devoted his career to excellence in print, first as a working journalist, then as a teacher of the craft, training a yearly crop of reporters who would carry on America’s devotion to preserving a free press. In relatively little time, he had become a respected professor who also wrote a regular column for the
Indianapolis Star.
In the most influential circles of the discipline, Tim’s name was gaining recognition.

That was a kind of strength that made a difference in life.

Another reason for his power was his absolute commitment to journalistic integrity both in the field and in the classroom. Back when he was reporting, he had never revealed a source. And even though he was a churchgoer—well, he
used
to be a churchgoer—he had never let his religious faith stand in the way of his ability to practice objective journalism. Religious bias had no place either in the newsroom or in the educational process—not when a reporter could do his best work only with an open mind.

Kari had always struggled a bit with Tim’s thoughts about faith and the press. But not Angela.

She treasured the fact that Tim was a “man of faith,” as she put it. But she also admired him for his ability to put aside his personal beliefs when he wrote a column or lectured to a class. “We never knew exactly where you stood on issues,” Angela had told him later, transfixing him with her electric blue eyes. “But we always knew you stood for good journalism. We knew you’d never cave, never give in. Do you know how rare that is these days?”

He was Angela’s hero, no doubt. It was something he’d known from that first day when she had showed up at his desk after class the spring of her junior year and had asked him out.

“Professors can’t date their students,” he told her, stifling a smile.

She simply held his gaze, her directness both disconcerting and alluring. “Can they have lunch together?”

They had lunch. The office visit happened a week later.

After that, month after month after month, he fought the temptation. After all, it truly was policy that a professor couldn’t date a student currently in his classes, though the university’s Ethics and Harassment Department had long since agreed that there was nothing wrong with a mutually consenting relationship once the shared class had officially ended.

So Tim had held back, flirting with Angela, enjoying lunches and study times with her, but refusing to cross the line. When summer came and Angela returned to her hometown of Boston, Tim felt relieved, glad to be free from the guilt of their flirtation. He tried to put Angela behind him, to focus on his marriage. But Kari was gone nearly every day, too busy to spend time with him, often too tired to respond lovingly to him at the end of the day.

When Angela returned to school, Tim finally had to admit the truth to himself, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it to his wife.

He was in love with Angela Manning. Deeply, completely in love. It was wrong, no doubt. But he couldn’t deny his feelings or the way she left him unable to choose anything but time with her.

And it was since that realization that the voice of guilt had been nothing short of relentless.

Repent. . . . The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy.

The voice spouted Bible verses at him, passages he’d memorized as a boy but hadn’t read in years.

I have come that you may have life, and have it to the full.

Tim liked that one least of all.
Life to the full
. As if reading a Bible or going to church every time he earned a day off could possibly compare with the way Angela made him feel.

Life to the full?

The Bible was obviously mistaken on that point. In Angela’s arms life had never been more full. So Tim had gradually let go of the beliefs that had once been the foundation of his life— a foundation that now seemed flawed and almost ridiculous.

He’d doubted some of the details for a long time, of course. A world made in six days? An ark with hundreds of animals, floating above a world of water? People cured of diseases by simply taking a bath or having their eyes covered with mud? Tim had long ago written off such events as either symbolic or simply irrelevant.

But recently he had started to ask even more fundamental questions. What if God didn’t exist after all? What if the Bible had been made up by a group of religious leaders intent on dictating the moral fiber of a society gone bad? What if real life, real truth, lay in the finding of one’s soul mate? Someone whose soul seemed like a missing piece to one’s own?

Someone like Angela.

In the weeks since he and Angela had begun sleeping together, the questions had gradually become statements in his mind, until now he was ready to let go of the crutch of religious tradition entirely, ready to embrace the reality of new life with his new love.

What he wasn’t ready to do was tell his wife, and therein lay the struggle. He knew that the only right thing was to confess the affair. But when Kari met him at the door each evening, he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye and tell her the truth. That he wanted a divorce. That he was in love with another woman—a student, no less.

It did not take a psychiatrist to figure out the most likely source of the guilt that interrupted his days and kept him awake at night. And it wasn’t hard for Tim to convince himself that the whispered flashes of Scripture were figments of his imagination, a consequence of confused brain signals or perhaps the manifestation of an overactive conscience.

So he chose not to dwell on the fact. The guilt would pass in time, once he acted on his decision to leave Kari, once the stress of a double life was behind him. The voices would eventually stop, though for the time being they made sleeping almost impossible.

And that’s where things were different now. For weeks the guilt had awakened him with gently persistent preachy sentiments about truth and repentance.

But lately, that same guilt had been waking him with something else.

Tears.

These thoughts, all of them, came in the time it took to realize it had happened again. In the midst of a perfectly good night’s sleep next to a woman who had captured his heart and intoxicated his senses, Tim Jacobs, respected professor and ace columnist, was crying.

Weeping quietly as if someone had died.

Tim blinked to clear his vision, and suddenly he knew that someone had indeed ceased to exist. Himself.

Quietly, discreetly, he silenced the sobs and wiped his tears, but none of that erased the sadness in his soul, a sadness so deep and true he ached from the power of it. As if a veil had been lifted from his heart, he saw everything he’d once been—the idealistic boy, the energetic teenager, the God-centered college student, the hardworking journalist, the romantic groom. The loyal husband.

That man was dead.

His betrayal of Kari had fired a final, fatal bullet into what remained of the man he’d once been.

There in the darkness, with Angela curled up beside him, lost in sleep, the sadness within him grew. He cried for Kari, the sweet young woman to whom he’d promised a lifetime. He cried for the children they’d never have and for the growing old they’d never do together.

Tim swallowed back a lump in his throat and tried again to clear the tears from his eyes. Where were these feelings coming from? Why were they hitting him now? His love for Kari had cooled long before he met Angela. Still, Kari was his wife. As much as he longed to be with Angela, Kari deserved better.

Why have I let things get so bad? What’s happened to me? What have I become?

The answers were ugly and came as quickly as the questions, forming a stranglehold on Tim’s heart. As strong and capable as Tim thought himself to be, the depth of sorrow that surrounded him now was enough to destroy him. It was a moment that would normally be accompanied by the voice of guilt, assuring him that even now redemption was his for the asking.

But as Tim cried quietly into Angela’s pillow, mourning for the first time the man he’d once been, the marriage he was about to lose, and the fact that he had no intention of changing his mind, he realized something that was more heartbreaking than the other losses combined.

The words on the plaque Kari had given him were right. Without God he wasn’t as strong as he’d thought. Not at all. And that’s why the tears flowed so easily these days. Because in its hardened state, his brittle heart had done something he’d never expected when he first took up with Angela Manning.

It had broken in two.

Chapter Two

The phone rang as Kari Baxter Jacobs was washing the makeup from her face that night. She dropped the washcloth in the bathroom sink and quickly patted a towel across her cheeks and forehead.

It was a gorgeous fall night in Bloomington, Indiana, the type of night that inspired artists to paint masterpieces of moonlit farms and rolling hills. As busy as Kari and Tim were these days, as tired and ill as she often felt lately, she welcomed the change of seasons. The shorter days and coloring leaves seemed to promise the coming of quieter times, long, dark evenings when she and Tim could catch up and talk about the idea that had been nearly bursting in Kari’s heart for the past six months.

The idea of helping minister to other married couples.

It wouldn’t be anything full-time or all-encompassing, she thought—maybe a midweek meeting for couples wanting a closer walk with God and each other. Couples like her and—

The phone rang a third time as she picked it up.
It’s probably Tim, calling to check in.
Tim was attending a conference three hours away and wouldn’t be home until Sunday afternoon.

“Hello.” She sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. Just about the time Tim usually called when he was away. She waited for his voice, but there was only the faint sound of breathing on the other end. Kari lowered her eyebrows and wondered if they had a bad connection. “Tim?”

“Uh . . .” The voice was raspy and belonged to a younger man. Kari’s smile faded. He didn’t sound professional enough to be a salesman. And even across the phone lines Kari could hear something odd in his tone. Fear, maybe. She rolled her eyes.
Prank call
. She was leaning over to hang up when the man cleared his throat. “Look, I have something to tell you.”

Kari’s breath caught in her throat, and she chided herself. There was nothing to worry about. Tim would have been safely registered at his hotel the night before. Her parents and siblings were all well according to this morning’s conversation with her mother. She exhaled, forcing herself to be calm, professional. “Is this a sales call?”

“No.” The man’s answer was quick. Too quick. “Like I said, I have something I got to tell you.”

Kari sighed, and her mind raced. She barely noticed that her breathing had quickened. “Look, I’m busy.” She uncrossed her arms and absently drummed her fingernails on the nightstand. “Just say it.”

“I can’t give you my name.” The man drew a shaky breath. “But what I’m going to tell you is the absolute truth. You can check it out.”

The struggle to make sense of the call was growing more intense. What was the man talking about? Who was he and why wouldn’t he give her his name? And what exactly did he have to tell her? Anger rose inside her. “What’s your point?”

The caller drew another deep breath. “Your husband’s having an affair.”

Her heart began a free fall that took her stomach with it. She blinked and uttered a single shallow laugh. “What’re you talking about?”
What a terrible trick, calling me at home and making up a lie that couldn’t possibly be
. . . “You don’t know my husband.”

“I guess you don’t either, lady.” He paused. “I thought you deserved the truth. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait!” Adrenaline flooded Kari’s veins, pounding its way through her arms and legs and heart, and again she felt herself falling, farther and farther down into a terrifying, dark abyss. She gave her head a fierce shake and tried to hold on to anything that might make sense. The man was lying; he had to be. Tim was in Gary, Indiana, at a conference on freedom of the press. He hadn’t even wanted to go; he’d told her so yesterday before he left.

Kari closed her eyes, and her heart seemed to stop. Tim’s voice came back to her again.
I hate these things, but I have to do them, honey
. She could still see his earnest eyes, hear the sincerity in his voice.
The administration expects me to be there.

A thud pounded in the depths of Kari’s chest, and she felt her heartbeat return, this time twice as fast as before. She opened her eyes and fumbled for the notepad and pen she kept in the drawer of her bedside table. Her hands shook so badly that she could barely hold them.
It’s impossible . . . this isn’t happening . . . it’s a lie . . .

“Why . . . ?” Her voice was low and empty, as if her entire existence had been snuffed out in the time it took the caller to deliver his message. She struggled to find the words. “Why should I believe you?”