The Breaking Point (18 page)

Gabe slammed his fist into the wall, then pushed away from it. Stupid, stupid … His jaw ached, and he realized he’d been grinding his teeth. He didn’t care. He deserved whatever pain he got.
How could you let that happen?

He’d been beating himself up ever since. Which was why he’d finally called Susan. He needed to talk, and his older sister always seemed to understand him, to know what to say. And, even more important, what not to say.

At least, she usually did. But this time she listened in silence, then dropped her own little bombshell into the mix:
“Have you prayed about this?”
The question, his conversation with Susan, replayed in his mind. And each time, he felt the same thing: a creeping, nagging disquiet. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Susan’s question had hit home. Not because he wasn’t sure of Renee, of them being together, but he had to admit things had happened fast.

Because you made them happen that way.

He turned from the thought and found himself staring at his reflection in the window. He took in the frown pinching his features, the confusion looking back at him from his eyes. One minute his life was on track, heading down a path he’d determined long ago to follow, then …

Renee.

He let the chaos in his mind out on a groan that came from the very core of his heart. Since he’d met her, nothing else mattered. Nothing but the certainty that she was the one, and he’d do whatever he needed to do to win her. He’d be whoever he needed to be, say what he needed to say …

“Have you prayed about this?”

Gabe rubbed his now aching temples as his sister’s words echoed again, sending that odd, uncomfortable twinge through him. “Jesus …” He stared at the night sky. “Jesus, what do You want from me?”

But he knew the answer even before he asked. Okay, he hadn’t taken time to pray about Renee, about their future together. But so what? Being together wouldn’t feel so right if it wasn’t from God. If He wasn’t calling them to be together.

“Are you sure? Are you doing this because it’s what God wants… or because it’s what you think you want?”

Gabe started as Jake’s pointed questions from so many years ago rose from within him like specters from some recurrent nightmare. With a muttered oath, Gabe moved to throw open the window and draw in a deep gulp of the cold, clear winter night, almost welcoming the ache the subzero air caused in his lungs. Maybe it would take his mind off the ache in his
gut … the ache that wouldn’t go away until Renee was his.

No, he hadn’t prayed, but this was right, this was God’s path for them. It had to be.

So why not take a little time to pray about it?

Gabe hesitated. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He wanted to go to Renee, take her hands in his and ask her to be with him, be his … forever. Ask her to be his wife. Hear her say yes, hear her promise to love and honor him, in sickness and in health, until death came to part them.

The thought of her speaking those words did crazy things to his pulse. “I do.” The words rang out with a solid certainty in the quiet of his room. He leaned out the window and shouted the words into the frigid night. “I
do!
You’d better believe it! Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind.”

That’s when it hit him.

Cold. A deep, aching chill. But it had nothing to do with the wintry air outside. No, this came from inside, from someplace way down in his gut. It rose with slow purpose, crawling across his nerves, raising the hair on his arms as it slithered past. With a start, Gabe glanced over his shoulder.

No one was there, of course—his roommates were all out. But even as he let loose a breath of relief, he couldn’t escape the restlessness that had settled over him, pressing down on his mind and spirit. The irritating sensation grew, like a sliver that had worked its way deep into the skin—one you knew would hurt like crazy to get out.

“Father God …” He closed his eyes on the agonized prayer. Something was very, very wrong.

He had to get out. Away. Grabbing his jacket, he headed outside, accelerating as he strode down the hallway, through the door, down the stairs—and collided with Chad Madison, one of his roommates, who was bounding up the steps.

“Yo, Roman, what’s the hurry, man?” Chad peered over Gabe’s shoulder. “Someone after you or something?”

Gabe managed a choked laugh and shoved his hands into
the pockets of his jacket. “After me? Who’d be after me?”

“Your conscience, maybe?”

Despite Chad’s wry tone, alarm jolted through Gabe, even as his sister’s voice ricocheted from one side of his mind to the other:
“Have you prayed about this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Chad pulled back, his arched brows clear evidence of just how over-the-top Gabe’s tone had been. Gabe held up a hand. “I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

His grin sliding back into place, Chad shrugged. “Hey no problem. I just figured you’d be studying tonight, that’s all. I mean, you’re the one who told me how far behind you are in church history.”

Studying … he should be studying. But not church history. Gabe shook his head as the obvious finally became clear. Chad was right. It was his conscience chasing him. And the only way he’d get rid of the sick feeling that threatened to overtake him was do exactly what he should have done from the start.

He spun on his heel. It only took a moment to return to his room and grab his Bible. He passed a confused Chad as he left again, heading outside. It didn’t matter how cold it was outside. He needed someplace quiet, isolated. Someplace to read.

Someplace to figure out just exactly what he was supposed to do.

D
ECEMBER
12, 1979

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?

“Miss Williams, are you still there?”

Renee stared at the receiver in her hand. She knew she should answer the woman, but no words would come out. “Miss Williams?”

Clearly the nurse was getting testy. Renee cleared her throat and forced the words past the dryness in her mouth. “I’m … I’m here. Thank you for calling.”

Though she could still hear the woman’s voice through the receiver, Renee set it back in the cradle. She stared down at the phone. How could something so small have such a huge impact on her life?

But it had. It changed everything. Just by ringing. “O God …” The whispered prayer caught in her throat, much like her breakfast had done almost every morning for the past few
weeks. Fighting the nausea that had become her constant companion, she looked down at the piece of paper on her desk. She always doodled when she was nervous. This had been no exception. One word was written, over and over, across the page, in big black letters.

Pregnant.

Renee crumpled the offending piece of paper and tossed it in the trash can beside her desk. She stared at it for a moment—the paper sat there, on top of the rest of the trash. And though it was crumpled, Renee could still see the word she’d written almost without thinking as she listened to the nurse’s brisk voice telling her that her life was over.

“The reason you haven’t been feeling well, Miss Williams, is simple: You’re pregnant.”

Renee jumped up, grabbed the trash can, and headed for the garbage chute in the hallway. No sense leaving that incriminating bit of paper in the trash for one of her roommates to find.

People would know soon enough.

For now she needed time … time to think. She pulled the chute open and threw the trash down it, listening as it bounced and banged its way to the receptacle below.

The odors from the chute assaulted her, and she pulled away, covering her mouth with one hand, her stomach with the other.

Breathe … breathe …

Too late. She bolted for the bathroom, barely making it in time. Renee wept as her stomach surged, emptied. After what seemed like a lifetime, she sank to the cool tile floor. Curling into a tight ball, she hugged herself against nausea—and the terrible reality—that washed over her in waves.

When she could stand, she made her way back to her room, crawled into bed, and pulled the quilt around her like a sheltering cocoon.

Pregnant. How could she be pregnant?

“God …” She pressed her face into her pillow, doing her best to muffle the sobs. “One time! We were only together one time … and we promised never to do that again. How could You let this happen to us?”

There was no reply to her whispered plea, not from the heavens. But answers abundant sprang from Renee’s heart.

Don’t blame God. He’s not the one who ignored what He knew was right. He didn’t let this happen. You did.

She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, at the stars Gabe had painted there for her.

Gabe. She closed her eyes, but that didn’t stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks.

How was she going to tell her parents? Her friends?

How am I even going to tell Gabe?

D
ECEMBER
12, 1979

GABE HAD HIS ANSWER.

He received it one bit at a time over the past month, like pieces of some inner jigsaw puzzle juggling and falling into place. Now he saw the whole picture.

And it wasn’t pretty.

The first piece came a few days after that night in his room. He’d been walking out the door after theology class one day, and his prof, Asa Jacks, stopped him and pulled him aside.

Gabe liked Asa. He was one of those quiet, gentle men whose whole demeanor spoke of wisdom and experience. He’d been especially patient with Gabe when he couldn’t seem to get the stuff Asa was teaching. Gabe got frustrated with himself, with his thick head and dim understanding, but Asa never seemed bothered. He’d just offer to stick around, to talk things through.

That was what Gabe expected when Asa stopped him that day, but what he received from the older man was an invitation to his house. To dinner. Gabe gladly accepted. No way was he going to turn down a home-cooked meal!

The dinner had been excellent, made even more so by the conversation with Asa and his wife, Doris. They were the most genuine, open people Gabe had met in a long time, and he found himself relaxing in their company. When the meal was finished, Asa tapped Gabe on the shoulder, then led him to his study.

There they sat in soft leather chairs as Asa poured coffee first for his guest, then for himself. Gabe took a sip. Asa was not only a good teacher, he was a man who knew how to make a good, strong cup of coffee. He settled back in his chair, savoring the rich brew, watching his professor through the rising steam.