Author's Note: Shane dropped a bit of a bombshell on Oliver at the end of the last chapter. How do you imagine Oliver would react? Read on and see if we are in concert as to how the situation will unfold. If you find yourself getting stuck in the angst, keep going…it will be worth it!

Chapter 11

Sleep was as elusive to Oliver as a falling snowflake that melts the moment it meets the warmth of your fingertip. His limbs lay heavy on the bed. Though fatigue infiltrated every muscle, his eyes were wide open. The moon filtered through the branches of the trees outside his window, which were being tossed about by the breeze. He followed the shadows created as they danced on his ceiling. Dancing had become synonymous with Shane, and he pictured them twirling gracefully along the shadows. When he did close his eyes, a kaleidoscope of images flashed in his head, one blurring into another, all of them leaving him unsettled. And then, there were the voices, mostly his voice, that snatched him from sleep with a shrillness more harsh than any alarm clock. Finally, he abandoned all thoughts of slumber when a beam of early morning sunlight splashed across his face.

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People wouldn't arrive for at least an hour, and the church lights were still dimmed. Oliver sat at the far end of the third pew, not unlike he did several weeks ago when he contemplated God's purpose in bringing Shane into his life. He welcomed the serenity that engulfed him because, right now, his spirit was anything but serene. His head was bowed, his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands folded in prayer. He was praying for so many things that, for a fleeting moment, he wasn't sure God would be able to keep up with his petitions. The thought was fleeting because, of course, God always heard and wanted all things brought to Him. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.*

Oliver prayed for his heart to be soothed and for him to understand the reason behind Shane's actions. He prayed for discernment on how to proceed and for the restoration of his trust in Shane. The events replayed in his mind. As much as he was disappointed in Shane's action, he recognized how poorly he had behaved. He could argue that he was justified in his response to her blindsiding him, but it still didn't make it right. He added another petition to his prayer. Please, Lord, let Shane forgive me.

XXXXX

Shane's revelation hit Oliver like a sucker punch, unexpected and without warning, knocking the air from his lungs. The news that she had met his estranged father, a man he had not spoken to in over fifteen years, came as a complete shock. How had she found him, let alone met him?

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Oliver disentangled his hands from Shane's and stood quickly, launching the swing back with such force Shane had to grab the armrest to keep from slamming against the back of it.

His eyes trained on hers. Certainly, he must have heard her wrong.

She dragged her foot to slow down the swing and steady herself. "I said I met your father."

"Where? Why? When?" Oliver's voice pitched higher with the punch of each question.

"Oliver, please sit down and let me explain." He heard the quiver in her voice, something that would typically ignite his protective instincts toward her. But, right now, he only saw it as an admission of her mistake.

"I prefer to stand, thank you very much." Oliver's words pierced the crisp autumn air and brought an even greater chill to the porch. He did more than stand. He paced the length of the creaky floorboards, back and forth, with his hands clasped so tightly behind his back that his fingers were turning numb. He came to a sudden stop, staring at her with an unwavering intensity. His voice rumbled. "How dare you do this without consulting me? What gives you the right to delve into my personal life and dredge up something you know is painful for me?"

The tears rolling down Shane's cheeks briefly softened his outrage. "The letter we've been working on, watching Ava Hart's video, and what she said about her father all reminded me how harsh life can be and that we need to make amends whenever we can. I lost the chance with my father, and I don't want you to lose the opportunity with yours." Her voice squeaked out her reasons, but it did little to alleviate his anger.

"You had no right." He bellowed.

Shane shrank back in her seat as his words slapped at her. "I know," she croaked.

"But you did it anyway," Oliver spat the words. "You and that curiosity of yours are behind this. You couldn't leave well enough alone. You had to get involved where you don't belong."

Shane flinched at his words. "Oliver, I..."

"You what?" He lowered his voice, but the nasty tone remained. It was a stark contrast to the tenderness he'd used earlier. Oliver stood in front of Shane and stared her down as her tears continued to flow.

"I did it because I love you, Oliver, and I don't want to see you make a mistake that, at some point in time, you will regret."

Oliver jerked his head at her profession of love. His face still burned red with rage. "Regret? The only thing I regret right now is ever telling you about my father." Oliver grabbed his rusty old toolbox, the heels of his shoes pounding down the steps. He threw the toolbox into the trunk and slammed the door so forcefully that the whole car shook.

He glanced in the rearview mirror as he hit the gas. Shane stood at the porch railing, her arms wrapped tightly around her, looking as shell-shocked as he felt.

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Oliver's heart skipped a beat as he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. Could it be her? Slowly, he turned, his anticipation turning into disappointment as he was met with the sight of his long-time friend with the straight red hair instead of the golden blonde waves he had been hoping for.

"Oliver, are you okay?" Dale asked.

It was the same thing Shane asked him when she sensed something was bothering him. He swallowed a sob, knowing he wasn't okay but that Dale wasn't the person to help him. Though their friendship had withstood the test of time, the stars never aligned for them to explore any potential romantic feelings for each other, especially once Oliver was married. And, well, once Shane was in the picture, he had feelings for no one but her.

"Ahem, I am fine. Thank you. But, I do think it is time to get into our robes." Oliver looked away, avoiding Dale's scrutiny, as they headed to the practice room.

The choir processed to their seats at the front of the church, facing the congregation as the organist played the beginning chords of the prelude. Preservice music typically evoked a sense of peace and introspection for Oliver as he prepared himself to worship, but this morning, he didn't even hear it.

Taking his place next to Dale in the front row of the choir loft, he stared ahead, the faces of his church family a blur. His breath caught when, way in the back, he saw her. She was stunning in a simple navy blue dress that hugged her curves and flared out from her slender waist. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek, low ponytail, bringing all the attention to her exquisite features. She slipped in just as the rich, reverberating notes of the prelude echoed off the high ceilings before coming to an end.

His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard as a mix of guilt and remnants of anger merged, bringing a wave of nausea. He took several deep breaths as he watched her scanning the pews in search of a seat. He caught the bright smile she shared with the person to her left as she finally settled into a pew. A bead of sweat trickled down his back, and he reached up to smooth his tie before remembering he was in his choir robe. His eyes remained on her, following her every move as she read the bulletin and did her best to follow along as the liturgy that began the service had them standing and sitting at various times. He didn't have to be with her to know she was probably uncomfortable, and in that moment, his anger dissipated, and all he wanted to do was rush to sit next to her, guiding her through the intricacies of the church service. He could almost smell the hint of rose that she wore and feel her delicate hand tucked into his.

When she looked up, his heart beat with the intensity of a drumline performance, and their eyes met across the congregation. His eyes crinkled ever so slightly, and a small smile meant to encourage her formed on his lips. She returned the smile to him, her expression cautious but warm.

Oliver was usually very observant during a church service, but today, the service dragged on, and if someone had asked him the theme of the sermon, he would have no response. He managed through the choir's anthem by avoiding Shane's eyes. He knew they would be his undoing, and there was still so much for them to work through.

Oliver hung up his robe in record time and quickly escaped the crowded choir room. The clicking of his footsteps echoed off the tile as he rushed through the hallway. Taking the steps two at a time, he finally reached the church's narthex.

He slowed his steps, taking steady breaths to calm his nerves. He peeked through the doorway, and his shoulders relaxed when he saw Shane was still there, right where she'd been during the service. Her head was bowed, and he wondered if she might be praying. The possibility that she, too, might be bringing her petitions to God brought hope to his heavy heart. He slipped in quietly, not wanting to disturb her, but his movement must have drawn her attention, and she lifted her head. He slid slowly down the pew, approaching her cautiously, the lingering tension feeding his hesitancy. Unbuttoning his jacket, he folded his hands in his lap. His gaze shifted nervously, flitting from one point to another, deliberately avoiding her eyes. When he finally dared to look at her, he suspected that her night hadn't been any more restful than his. Her usually bright blue eyes were red and a little puffy. He wondered if she knew there was a black smudge under her eye staining her flawless skin. And yet, she was still his beautiful Shane. Curly wisps of hair framed her face, and her lips, full and pink, drew all of his attention. All he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss them. He reached into his inner jacket pocket, produced a clean and neatly pressed handkerchief, and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, carefully dabbing at her eyes and wiping her nose.

It was gut-wrenching for him to see Shane in such a state.

"Oliver, I am so sorry. I should have asked you before I contacted your father. It was impulsive of me." Her words tumbled through her tears, and she used Oliver's handkerchief to wipe her cheeks.

"No, you should not have, and yes, it was impulsive." The words spilled from his lips with an unintended terseness.

"I didn't expect him to respond to me."

"How did you find him?" He suspected the answer but wanted to hear it from her.

"I searched for him on a social network for business people."

"Hmph," was all he could manage. Hearing her response, he felt even more convinced that the benefits of technology did not always outweigh the harm it could bring.

Shane's eyes connected with his as she glossed over his response. "When he, your father, did respond, I wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid of how you would react." Her hands twisted in her lap as she rambled her explanation. "I wasn't going to meet him, but then I worried that he might not be," she caught his eye, "that he might not be, I don't know, worthy of you, and I didn't want you to be hurt if he wasn't."

Oliver's breath escaped his lips in a long, drawn-out sigh. Of course, Shane would be protective of his feelings, but he couldn't abide by her methods, and he told her as much.

"Shane, I understand the motivation behind your actions, but I wholly disagree with your methods. You should have spoken to me before you ever attempted to contact him."

"I know, Oliver." Shane's lip pinched firmly between her teeth.

Oliver's reflex was to reach out and free it with his thumb. His finger gently traced the silkiness of her cheek, and she leaned into his touch for the brief moment he kept it there. He pulled it away but didn't shift his gaze from her.

"So, what do we do now?" Shane whispered hesitantly.

Oliver straightened himself and his tie, smoothing it with his hand. He looked around and realized that the church was empty. "I think we have a lot to discuss. Do you have any plans for lunch?"

Shane's lips lifted into a hopeful smile. "No, I don't."

The restaurant wasn't far from the church, and Oliver suggested walking. There was a hint of chill in the air, but the gentle caress of the sun was warm on their faces. He offered his arm to Shane and felt the familiar jolt of excitement that rushed through him as she grasped it tightly. They walked in silence, the weight of their upcoming discussion weighing heavily on Oliver's mind. Lying in bed the night before, he watched the flickering shadows on his bedroom ceiling and contemplated his tendency to avoid tough conversations. He had done it with his mother, his father, and his ex-wife. But, he was determined to avoid repeating past mistakes. This time, he resolved to confront the situation head-on. It was too important not to. Shane was too important not to.

He held open the door of the Blackbird café for Shane. As she swept by him, her perfume enveloped him like a gentle wave. He requested a booth from the hostess but was told it would take a few minutes until they cleared one. They stood side by side, her hand was no longer tucked into his elbow, and he realized quickly how much he missed her touch. When Shane caught his eye, he noticed a lingering uncertainty in her expression. Guilt pinged at him as he recalled their conversation the day before and the harsh words that he had spewed.

"Oliver!" Brought back to the present by the calling of his name, both he and Shane turned their heads in search of the voice. He spotted Dale and a few others from the choir.

Shane turned toward him, her eyebrow raised. "Those are some of my fellow choir members. It is not unusual for us to gather here on Sundays after church to have lunch together. I didn't realize they would be here."

Nodding her understanding, Shane encouraged him to go over and say hello. "Go on, Oliver. Go, say hi. I'll wait here for the table."

He knew what she was doing. She was giving him an easy and safe option to bypass having to introduce her to his friends, which would likely require him to answer the question of who she was. Her gesture filled his heart, and he took her hand firmly into his grasp.

"No, no, you won't. Come with me."

Shane followed Oliver. "Hello everyone." He waited for them to return his greeting. He pulled Shane to his side. "Everyone, this is Shane McInerney." Their hands remained joined down by their sides, and Oliver's thumb gently drew reassuring circles on Shane's hand as he introduced her, "My girlfriend." Oliver reveled in Shane's expression, a mix of surprise and delight. He held his breath, waiting for the group's reaction to his announcement.

There was a fleeting moment of blank stares before Dale, her customary gracious self, led introductions between Shane and the others. Oliver noticed a trace of sadness in her voice, and he acknowledged her kindness with a nod of his head.

As the hostess called out his name, they exchanged farewells with the rest of the group and made their way to their table. He was grateful for the secluded spot across the cafe, offering them some privacy. Oliver helped Shane shed her coat, and he held the chair for her until she was safely seated.

They gave their drink orders to the waitress, and both pulled out the menus wedged between the napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers. Each studied them with far more scrutiny than necessary for a cafe with limited options.

After their drinks were served and they had placed their food orders, Shane broached the topic of their interaction with his friends."Oliver, you introduced me as your girlfriend."

Oliver unrolled his silverware from the white napkin and began arranging it in front of him. His eyes remained fixed on the table instead of Shane as he answered. "Yes, I did." He lifted his eyes to meet hers. "After all, that is the proper terminology when two people are in a relationship, is it not?"

"Are you sure?" Her voice quivered.

His hand reached out slowly, and she cautiously met it with hers, closing the distance between them as their fingers finally touched across the table."Yes, Shane, I am sure." His lips twisted into a half smile. His thumb stroked her knuckles as he said, "Shane, I have had time to reflect on how things transpired yesterday, and I am sorry for how I reacted. I was taken by surprise, but that doesn't justify how I behaved or how I spoke to you. Please forgive me."

She tightened her fingers around his. "I do, Oliver. Can you forgive me?" Her eyes met his, filled with a glimmer of hope.

"I already have." He watched as the radiant smile he craved to see every day, around every corner, and after every kiss slowly blossomed on her face, starting with her lips, filling her cheeks, and finally, lighting up her brilliant blue eyes.

The conversation paused as the waitress returned with their food: tuna salad for Shane and ham and cheese on rye for Oliver.

"Did you enjoy the church service this morning?"

Shane took a sip of her water. "I did."

He watched as her eyes filled. "What is it, Shane?"

"I was so upset last night, I couldn't sleep. I just tossed and turned all night."

Oliver slumped in his seat, his recurring guilt over yesterday deflating him like a balloon. "I did as well."

"I finally got up and paced around my house, made some tea, tried to settle myself. I remembered how peaceful your church felt when I was there a while back. I thought I would try it again, and..." her voice trailed off.

"And?" Oliver prodded.

Shane stared intently into Oliver's eyes. "I knew you would be there, and I had to see you and tell you how sorry I am. Then, if, well, if things didn't work out between us, at least I would have said my apologies." A tear fell from Shane's eye, and Oliver quickly moved to wipe it away with his thumb.

"Shane, I'm sorry I put you through that, but I'm pleased that you turned to church to find solace. Did it help?"

"Well," she smiled brightly, "we're sitting here together, so I would say, yes, it helped."

"Do you think you would like to attend again?" Oliver held his breath, waiting for her response.

"Yes," resting her hand on his, she answered, "I would like to, very much. But will I always have to sit alone while you're singing in the choir?"

His pulse raced as both relief and joy coursed through him. "No, I will not leave you to sit alone. We don't sing every Sunday. And, if it makes you more comfortable, I will arrange to sit with you and join the choir when it is time for our anthem."

Once again, she graced him with a smile that lit up the room. Oliver hadn't fully appreciated it until he experienced the fear of losing it.

They finished lunch and were making their way back to the church. As Oliver extended his arm to Shane, she reached out and grasped it. He gently covered her hand with his, drawing her even closer to him.

"Oliver, aren't you at all curious about your father?"

His father had yet to be mentioned, and Oliver assumed that Shane would bring it up at some point. "I'm not sure. I want to know that he's okay. He's not ill, is he?"

"No, no, he's not ill at all. He looks quite healthy, actually."

Her remark reminded him that she'd seen him, talked to him, and spent time with him while he hadn't seen him for most of his adult life.

"I wasn't sure what to expect, Oliver, but he was so kind. He repeatedly told me that he wants to know that you are okay and that it would mean everything for the two of you to reconcile."

Oliver considered her words. He and Shane had just navigated through the most significant conflict they faced in their relationship so far. Was he prepared to do it again with his father? "I, I don't know."

"Oliver, he doesn't expect that the two of you will be best friends. He wants you to know that he's here for whatever type of relationship you are comfortable with. That's why he moved back to Colorado."

They reached the church's parking lot and found Shane's car. They stood next to it, Oliver hesitant to leave her.

Shane reached up and cupped her hand around Oliver's jaw. "Please, Oliver, just consider meeting him. There's no rush. He said he has no plans to leave." She took Oliver's hand and opened it, slipping a piece of paper inside and curling his fingers around it. "I don't either." She leaned in, and her lips found his.

Oliver pulled her close, overwhelmed by the heady sensation of her lips against his. At that moment, he disregarded that they were standing open and vulnerable to any passerby. But he couldn't bring himself to care.

When they finally broke apart, they remained wrapped in each other's arms. Shane lifted her face and whispered. "Are we okay, Oliver?"

Her voice still held a trace of uncertainty, causing him to flinch. To remove any lingering doubts, he kissed her with an intensity rooted in the depth of his feelings. He pulled away and held her gaze."We are definitely okay, Shane."

*Philippians 4:6-7.