Chapter 11: What Happened To Her?
727 Words
The drive home was quiet.
Joshua turned off the radio halfway through the journey.
He couldn't concentrate on the music.
Every song felt like noise.
His mind kept returning to the hospital.
To the chapel.
To her.
The woman from church.
The woman from the dreams.
The woman from the encounter.
The woman who looked at God as though He had personally betrayed her.
Joshua tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Her words replayed in his head.
"If God hasn't abandoned me, He has a funny way of showing it."
He sighed.
The pain in her voice had been real.
Too real.
It wasn't the bitterness that stayed with him.
It was the hurt.
The kind of hurt that had settled deep into a person's bones.
The kind that didn't happen overnight.
Whatever she had gone through...
It was serious.
The thought followed him all the way home.
****
The house was quiet when he arrived.
Most of the lights had already been switched off.
His parents had gone to bed.
Even Jane, surprisingly, wasn't lurking around waiting to ask questions.
Joshua dropped his keys on the centre table and loosened his tie.
Normally, after a long day, he would head straight to bed.
Tonight, he couldn't.
Instead, he sat on one of the living room couches.
Alone.
The silence wrapped around him.
For several minutes, he simply stared ahead.
Thinking.
Remembering.
Trying to understand.
He remembered the tears she tried to hide.
The way she laughed whenever God came up.
Not because she found it funny.
Because she was tired.
Tired of believing.
Tired of hoping.
Tired of being disappointed.
Joshua leaned back and rubbed his face.
For months he had asked one question.
"Who is she?"
Tonight, another question had taken its place.
"What happened to her?"
The question refused to leave.
He wasn't thinking about marriage.
He wasn't thinking about the dreams.
He wasn't even thinking about the encounter anymore.
He was thinking about her pain.
And for some reason, that bothered him more.
Joshua lowered his head.
"Father..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I don't know her."
The confession felt strange.
Because somehow he felt connected to a woman whose name he didn't even know.
"I don't know what she's been through."
Silence.
"I don't know why she's angry."
More silence.
"But she's hurting."
The words lingered in the room.
Joshua swallowed.
"I saw it."
He closed his eyes.
"I saw it in her eyes."
For the first time since the encounter, Joshua wasn't asking God for clarity.
He wasn't asking for signs.
He wasn't asking whether he had heard correctly.
Instead, he found himself praying for a stranger.
A complete stranger.
"Please help her."
The prayer surprised even him.
"Whatever happened..."
His voice softened.
"Please heal her."
The room became quiet again.
Joshua remained there for a long time.
Long after the prayer ended.
Long after midnight.
Eventually he stood and headed upstairs.
But sleep didn't come easily.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
Not the woman from the dreams.
Not the woman from church.
The woman from the chapel.
Broken.
Crying.
Asking God where He had been.
And for the first time, Joshua realized something.
Finding her had not answered his questions.
It had only given him new ones.
****
The next morning, Joshua walked into the kitchen and reached for the coffee pot.
Without thinking, he poured orange juice into his mug.
Jane stared.
Joshua stared.
Then looked down at the cup.
Then back at the orange juice carton in his hand.
Jane blinked.
"What exactly are we drinking this morning?"
Joshua looked at the mug.
"...I don't know."
Jane slowly lowered her spoon.
"Oh, it's serious."
Joshua frowned.
"What is serious?"
Jane pointed at the cup.
"You just made citrus-flavoured coffee."
Joshua looked down again.
For the first time all morning, he realized what he had done.
Jane gasped dramatically.
"The mystery woman has destroyed my brother."
"Jane."
"Oh my goodness."
"Jane."
"He's gone."
Joshua grabbed the carton and headed for the sink.
Behind him, Jane's laughter echoed through the kitchen.
For once, he didn't have the energy to argue.
Because if he was being honest...
A small part of him was still sitting in that hospital chapel.
Wondering why a woman he barely knew looked so hopeless when she spoke about God
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