The Small Town Preacher's Fake - Lucy McConnell Page 0,60
wilt.
“Come on, Evie.” He tried again and again with the same results.
Darting to her room, he was devastated to find it cleaned out. She’d really left.
His feet dragged as he made his way back to the front room, where he sank into the sofa and stared at the grain in the wood.
She was gone.
He’d lost her and lost his heart in the process. He turned and punched the pillow. He always messed up. If he’d just told her about the issue instead of holding back, there wouldn’t be a problem.
His strength left and he slithered to the floor. “Dear Lord, why did you make me a screw-up?” he cried to the heavens. “Why?” He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, but no answer came. Darkness fell, and he let it wash over him. He’d lost his best friend, his wife, the woman who made every day more beautiful. The one person who saw all his chips and found value in what was left.
He wouldn’t recover from this. Even if they wanted him to stay, he’d decline.
There was no music without Evie.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Evie
Evie woke up the morning after leaving Seth, unsure where she was. It didn’t take long for her to realize she was on Maisie’s couch. The scratchy afghan Maisie’s grandma had crocheted itched her skin, and she shoved it away. If she didn’t like Mrs. Farmly so much as a person, she’d throw out a curse upon all crochet projects until the end of time.
She sat up, feeling grumpy and unsettled. “I miss Seth,” she said out loud to no one. A glance at the clock on the wall that told her Maisie was already at the office and she’d better get a move on—she had an appointment to keep.
A shower made her wake up, though it didn’t make her feel any better. She walked into the courthouse, determined to put on her best face despite the memories of her wedding day. The task ahead wasn’t a pleasant one, but it was better to get it over with quickly than stall in misery.
Terri was already there, her knee bouncing like a bunny. “I’m a big ball of nerves with a side of chicken,” she said by way of greeting. “I’ve never done this before, and I’m scared to death that I’m going to make a mess of it.”
Evie reached out and laid a steadying hand on her arm. “Anyone would be nervous about filing for divorce, Terri. I’ll be with you the whole way.” And taking notes in case I need them for my own marriage, she added silently. Tears threatened, and Evie forced them back. She couldn’t cry here, not in front of Terri, who needed her strength.
“We have to wait a few minutes until the mediator will see us. Oh, why can’t they just press a button and get it all over with? He can have the truck and his tools. I just want the house.”
“Why don’t you tell me how you came to this decision?” Evie hoped that replaying the process would calm her down.
“I was prayin’, like I told you I would, and I was talking to God and I just felt like …” Terri glanced down at her hands. “… like this wasn’t the life He wanted for me. Like I was something special, ya know?”
Evie nodded. She’d felt that same way after marrying Seth—like something special. Like God was telling her this was the path she was supposed to take. “You are special to Him.”
“I thought I was special to Scott, but I’m not.”
“How do you know that?” Evie was desperate for some sign that she was important to Seth. If Scott was the opposite, then she could claim that at least some of her affections had been returned.
“Because he never came after me. If I left, I was the one to go back to him. If I pouted, I was the one who had to apologize. When a man runs after you, it means he loves you more than himself.” Terri’s eyes welled up with unshed tears. “Like God did for me. He came after me that day I wheeled Old Mr. Wellsprings into your church. I didn’t know how much He cared before. I wish I had. Maybe I wouldn’t have picked a man so bent on breaking me.”
Evie put her arm around Terri’s shoulders and hugged her. She needed the comfort as much as Terri because Seth hadn’t come after her. She’d missed several calls from him when she’d