The final song ended, but Emma remained in her seat for a moment after most of the congregation had begun filing toward the doors.
People moved around her in the aisles, gathering Bibles, calling after children and stopping to talk with friends they hadn’t seen since the Sunday before.
Emma didn’t feel rushed to join them.
For the first time all weekend, she wasn’t thinking about what she needed to say to Jackson.
She wasn’t wondering when Wade would call.
She wasn’t replaying yesterday and trying to assign meaning to every look, every conversation and every moment at the creek.
She was thinking about herself.
That realization felt strangely unfamiliar.
Emma looked down at the Bible resting in her lap.
For so long, every decision she’d made had been attached to someone else.
Wha
