Mr. Wrong (26 page)

She nodded
and remembered standing in that exact spot the summer she turned twelve. Her dad had taken her family on a trip to Salt Lake. “It’s my favorite temple—it’s where I want to get married.” Glancing at his face, she realized the words had come out before she’d thought about what she was saying.

Jonathon squeezed her hand gently
, and the tension in the air grew thick.

She looked into his eyes and felt like she was being given a message in that moment.
All she had ever wanted was to get married in that temple—to Jonathon. That’s what she’d dreamed about the past two years. It was—it was . . .

She stood
and took a deep breath. It all became clear. Everything she thought about Beau wasn’t real. And she would never marry him. Turning away from Jonathon, she fled to the bathroom. “Excuse me.”

She splashed her face with water.
All this time she’d thought Jonathon was the dream. That everything had been concocted in her imagination. Now, she realized she had no idea who Beau was. And it put her off-center. He’d seemed like the most real thing in her life lately. And the pain of his duplicity stunned her.

Sara
looked in the mirror and told herself that she couldn’t lay this burden on Jonathon. She would deal with it after he left. And like so many other emotions, she had to stuff this away for the moment. She walked out of the bathroom.

He
stood. His face looked sad. “I better go before it gets too late—the roads get slick pretty quick.” He took a deep breath and picked up his coat.

Sara went for her coat.
“I’ll walk you out.”

“Okay.”
He put on his coat and helped her with hers, and then opened the door.

She went out
, and he gently took her hand.

She blinked.

He pulled away. “Hold on, I’m going to turn on the car and let it run for a minute.”

Her breath came out in puffs
, and she pulled her coat snug against her. It was almost over—the weekend was almost over. She didn’t know if she could change the empty feeling that was taking residence inside her chest, but she wanted to see Jonathon off before trying to figure it out. Thoughts of Beau and Valerie’s sister had gone through her head during dinner no matter how much she pushed them away. Which made eating nearly impossible, and she felt her stomach growl.

Jonathon came back, holding his arms open.
“It’s freezing.”

She easily went into them, his warmth cheering her slightly.
Guilt simultaneously washed over her, guilt at the fact that she was taking comfort in his arms. Messed up, she thought. That’s what she was. How had this all happened?

“This feels so right,
Sara.” Jonathon propped his chin on her head and ran his hand down her hair. “Can you feel it?” Pulling away from her, he studied her face.

Forcing back the tears
that pricked at her eyes. She smiled. “I’m sorry, Jonathon.” The tears got free and washed down her face. “I’m sorry everything is such a mess.” She scrubbed a hand over her face and stepped back. “I can’t do this anymore. I just don’t know anything anymore.”

Sympathy washed over his face
. “Sara.” He hugged her tightly against him. “I should have dragged you off to the temple the moment I was released.”

Sara
couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. “Yeah, I’m sure you still want that after all I’ve put you through.” She dried her face with a tissue that she found in her pocket. She stepped away from him.

Jonathon watched her closely
then pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. “Actually, Sara, I do.” He put one knee on the ground.

Chapter 37

Marsal’s penciled eyebrow had been permanently raised the whole way back to Beau’s house after church. “Beau, what was that all about?”

“Don’t start,
Marsal.” Keeping his composure the whole way back to his house had proved almost impossible. He’d told himself the whole way back that it was better this way. Sara was better off without him. He’d failed in so many ways.

He pushed open the door and waited for
Marsal to go inside. “It’s time for you to get out of town.”

The charade had gone on long enough.
He thought she’d been sincere when she’d showed up a few days ago and told him she wanted to learn about the church. And, of course, he’d felt some obligation. Like Alma the Younger, he’d done his fair share to push her away from knowing the truth of the gospel. He had hardly known her before Valerie’s death. Valerie had always referred to her as the “slightly worldly” older sister that liked to travel the world on the trust fund their parents had set up for them.

It was only at Valerie’s funeral, or really, the days after the funeral when she’d helped him
. She’d been his shoulder to cry on. They’d commiserated about how cruel life was. About how nothing made sense in this world. About how God couldn’t just allow such horrible things to happen.

She’d told him she would stay around for a while and take over the African project. And she’d been good at it. Over the last couple of years she sent him quarterly reports.

Beau thought of how, only a week after Valerie’s death, Marsal had given him a beer one night and told him it might be nice to take the edge off. He’d never had anything to drink before, but somehow, in light of Valerie’s death, one little beer didn’t seem like a big deal. Little did he know that after a six pack, there would be no more edges. Or boundaries. It all seemed to blur, and Marsal started to look remarkably like Valerie.

It was only the next morning that his mistake really hit him.
He had loathed himself for a long, long time. He’d stayed away from the church, his mother. Until finally, he’d had to go back to church. He knew it was true and knew it was the only thing that could heal him. But it had been a long road.

When
Marsal had shown up, he’d looked at it as a chance to make things right between them. When she’d kissed him at the restaurant, he’d immediately told her it wasn’t going to happen like that. But she’d vehemently said that she wasn’t expecting anything and that really, truly, she just wanted to learn more about the church and discuss Africa with him.

He’d convinced his mom to stay with him while
Marsal was visiting, so there would be no misunderstanding on anyone’s part. He’d even confided in Marsal about Sara. And she’d seemed genuinely happy for him.

But today
, after Sacrament when the missionaries were giving Marsal another discussion, Beau had gotten the distinct prompting that Marsal needed to leave.

Marsal
went to her room and packed. She came back and dragged the rollers of her bag across the wooden floor to his front door.

Beau didn’t look at her.
He could hardly focus. What had he done to Sara? The look on her face. His chest felt hollow. The pain that had crossed Sara’s face was unbearable. He grabbed his keys from the counter. “I’ll take you to the airport.”

She was quiet then took a letter out of her purse and pushed it
at him.

Beau took it
. “What is this?”

“The Nigerian Project.”
Her words were perfectly enunciated, and she ran her tongue over her front teeth. “There’s lots of money, Beau. The upside is huge. It just needs some funding. Basically it’s the same thing we’ve been doing, but a different part of Africa. It’s a much larger scale. And, of course, this project brings you returns.”

Anger surged in his chest.
Beau narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “This is why you came?”

Marsal
sighed. “Partly.” She pursed her lips together.

“So it was all a lie.
Wanting to learn about the church was all a lie?”

Marsal
folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. “I was a little interested.”

Beau glared at her
and tapped the envelope into his hand.

“It’s more than just your money, Beau.
I need your help. This project requires a lot of organization. Infrastructure needs to be implemented. And . . .” She looked down quickly then back up to him. “This project could be the real deal. It could make changes that could really make a difference. Clean water, schools, medicine; these are things that we’ve been helping to maintain.” She stomped her foot and frowned. Her eyes teared up. “Beau, whatever I’ve done please know this, this project will change lives, histories, villages . . . a nation.”

Beau shook his head and scoffed a little at her dramatics.
“I’ve never been in this to make returns, Marsal.”

Marsal
glared at him. He’d never seen her look so passionate. “This is not about the money, Beau. It’s about the people . . . the children.” She swallowed and stepped away from him. “I need somebody that cares.” She looked into his eyes. “I thought that might be you.”

Watching her for a moment, Beau thought this was the first time he’d really seen
Marsal seem to care much about anything.

She watched his face, stepping toward him, then looked at his lips.
“We could be amazing, Beau.”

Beau instinctively stepped away, repulsed.
He realized the opportunity she was speaking of wasn’t necessarily just in Nigeria.

“Was it all an act,
Marsal?” He pounded the counter, feeling like he’d been ensnared again.

A
car pulled into the driveway.

She sighed and stepped back, collecting her bag.
“It wasn’t an act, Beau. I wanted to see you. I thought maybe with the time that had passed—things might . . .”

She
let out a soft laugh. “Beau, don’t be so angry.”

He couldn’t even talk.

She laughed louder, pulling her bag out the door. “I can’t believe I wasted my time.”

Confused, Beau followed her to the door.
“Yep, I guess I’m a waste of time.”

“You’re in love with her, Beau.
You really are in love with that—that—girl.”

Her ego was clearly bruised.
Beau had denied her.

He ripped the letter open, glancing over a financial sheet and following her down the steps.

She was already in the car and rolled down the back window. “If you change your mind, Beau, Nigeria opens the first week in January. I haven’t found anybody to have on the ground there. It could be you.” A sad smile washed over her face. “Can I give you some advice?”

This was not what he’d expected from her.
“Why not?”

“I’ve watched you the past few days
. You’ve changed. Obviously, it’s been hard for you.” She put her head down. “She was my sister. I know what it’s like to miss her. And just because I don’t have the same standards you have, don’t think I haven’t tortured myself the past few years. I betrayed her. I know that.” She looked back up at him.

Beau didn’t say anything.

“I thought by coming here somehow it could be fixed. I thought that maybe there was something more to that night, something honorable.”

Beau sucked in a breath.

“But if I’ve learned anything from Valerie dying, it’s that you can’t stand back and let life pass you by.” She smiled at him. A real smile. “Go to her, Beau.”

Squeezing his eyes shut
, he rocked back on his heels. Marsal’s small concession of kindness surprised him. She had more depth than he thought she was capable of at this point. He exhaled, shaking his head. “It’s not that simple.”

She paused.
“Just because I can’t commit to living the way you live doesn’t mean I don’t believe in something. That I want to believe in something.”

Beau looked into her eyes and his heart started to break.
They were so like Valerie’s eyes. The truthfulness of the moment awakened something inside of him.

Marsal
continued. “What did that Elder say today, the cute one?” Her voice softened. “I know my Savior loves me. I know that He loves you. And . . .” She bit her bottom lip for a moment and a tear fell down her face. “I know that the atonement is real.” She lifted her finger and pointed at him. “You see—you see . . .” Looking away she laughed again. “I tried to block everything the missionaries were trying to teach me, ya know?”

A
tear went down his cheek. “Marsal . . .” Beau didn’t know what to do. A second ago he’d wanted her to just leave and never come back—ever again. But now, seeing her this way, he had hope that maybe she would see the trueness of that message.

“No, Beau.”
She cut him off. “You see, I’ve got to get out of here for a lot of reasons.” She shook her head and pulled her sunglasses back into place. “But you don’t. You belong here. And you believe that stuff, right? That you can be forgiven, that you can start fresh?”

Chills ran through his body, starting on his arms and ending in his heart.
There was great irony in this whole situation and now he laughed. He couldn’t help but think that Valerie was working very hard on the other side to show him this truth.