Captivated

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

“Do you hate me now?” Kennedy’s voice was squeaky, but she dared to look up at her boyfriend.

No, make that her ex-boyfriend as of about ten seconds ago.

Ian shook his head. “You know I could never hate you.”

She kept waiting for him to say something else. But what?

What was left that hadn’t already been said?

“This probably doesn’t help,” she offered, “but you know it has nothing to do with how much I like you.”

Ian sighed. “I know.”

They were sitting on a bench, watching the colorful lights in the busyness of Yanji’s nightlife.

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?”

He shrugged. “Like what? You’ve made up your mind. I knew from the beginning your faith was important to you. If I were to ask you to change your beliefs, I’d be asking you to fundamentally change who you are, and I don’t want to do that. Because I love who you are.”

She straightened an invisible wrinkle on her blouse. “Don’t talk like that. It just makes it harder.”

“You were honest with me. It’s only fair for me to be honest with you.” He turned to her with a look that was so poignant it felt as if he’d reached through her sternum and was squeezing her heart. “You know I respect your beliefs. I understand that this is the decision you feel is best for you, so I guess that’s it.”

“Unless ...” Kennedy bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to let the word slip.

“Unless what?” He frowned. “Unless I get on my knees and say the sinner’s prayer like I did with Grandma Lucy when I was six? Unless I find a pastor in Yanji and get baptized again just like I did when I was twelve?” He shook his head. “I’ve got my beliefs too. You know that. And one of the things I loved about our time together was that even though Christianity is such an important part of your life, you were okay with all my questions and doubts. Never tried to make me feel bad or as if I’m not as good or as righteous as you.”

“You know I don’t think about it that way,” she began, but Ian cut her off.

“You don’t have to explain anything. I get it. I’m sorry I’m not clapping my hands and jumping up and down because you’re doing what you think is right. I realize this is your decision to make, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.”

Kennedy stared at her lap. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He glanced over and offered a brief smile. “I knew what I was getting into when we started dating. Earlier in the summer I called my sister and told her that you’d either be the girl to bring the wayward son home like Grandma Lucy’s always praying will happen, or you’d break up with me when you realized it went against your conscience to get involved with someone who didn’t see God exactly the same way you do.”

Kennedy opened her mouth to object, but Ian put his finger on her lips.

“You don’t have to say anything, and you don’t have to feel guilty. What I told my sister was that even if things didn’t work out between us, if our differences in faith proved to be insurmountable like they have, I would still consider myself a better person for the time we spent together. For the chance to share a little bit of your heart and your life and your love. And when I look at it like that, I don’t regret a thing.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb and kept his hand there, gently cupping her face.

His eyes were full of both joy and sadness. “We had a good summer, didn’t we?”

She sniffed and tried to laugh. “Yeah, we did.”

“Remember when Jin-Sun put on that wig and did his Sarah Palin impression?”

This time, Kennedy really did laugh. “Or when Mena sprained her ankle during the Gangnam Style dance off?”

His hand still caressed the side of her face. “Remember our first kiss?”

Kennedy tried to look away but couldn’t.

“Remember how embarrassed you got when we realized we weren’t quite as hidden as we thought we were?”

Kennedy put her hand on top of his, but she wasn’t sure if she was holding it even closer against her cheek or trying to push him away.

“I never want to forget,” she whispered.

“Me neither.” He was leaning toward her now, the same intense gaze that she remembered right before their first kiss.

“One more for the road?” He was asking for her permission.

Maybe it was a dumb idea. Maybe she’d regret it. But she had piled up regrets over the summer like she used to collect antique books.

What could one more hurt?

She blinked back her tears and nodded.

“One more,” she answered and anticipated the warmth of his lips.