Free Love Starts with Elle by Rachel Hauck Page B

shattering into a million pieces. “What is not going to work, Jeremiah?” She’d given him way too much lead in their relationship. If he wanted to say something, he’d best speak plainly.
    “You. Me. Marriage.” She heard a door click closed and the echo of Jeremiah’s footsteps in a hollow hall.
    “Only because you’re sabotaging it. You’re physically and emotionally unavailable. I can’t win.”
    “I can’t win with you either. I told you, Elle, the ministry would consume me at first.”
    “When have I ever interrupted your ministry?” Now that it was going down, she couldn’t stop shaking.
    “Face it, Elle. You don’t want to be married to a pastor.”
    “Jeremiah, I love you. I want to be married to you, not your job. I feel like you want me to simply fit into your life without bringing any part of myself. It’s like I’m the right size, so give me the suit.”
    “I don’t know how you can say that, but yes, I need a woman who can stand strong in ministry. Elle, if you want to do your own thing, chase your own God dreams, then go for it, but I can’t let it get in the way of what He’s called me to do.” His confession sliced through her heart, painfully cutting. “I’m sorry. Those are hard words, but I felt you needed to hear them.”
    “You are so unfair and selfish, Jeremiah. How could you say that to me? I’ve never let my dreams get in the way of yours. I agreed to the house, agreed to move to Dallas after you proposed, agreed to wait on the gallery.”
    “Look, let’s not cloud the issue.”
    “Cloud the issue? I think it’s fairly clear, Jer—you don’t want to marry me.”
    “Elle, I’m just not ready.”
    “You’re thirty-five. When will you be ready?” His lame excuse angered her.
    “It’s not age, it’s the work. I’m not in a place to take on marriage. I’m sorry. If I’d have known this when I took the job, I would’ve never proposed.”
    “Then quit.” A sharp but logical resolution.
    “Quit? The church?”
    “Yes, the church. Quit for us.”
    “I can’t quit the church, Elle,” Jeremiah said. “I’ve made a commitment to these people. They’ve invested time and money in me and my vision.”
    “You made a commitment to me. Are you going stand before God and hear, ‘Kudos, son, for dumping the artist gal to pastor a church’? God, family, job, remember? You’re not their savior, bubba. Last I looked Jesus earned that job.”
    “Can I deny God’s calling on my life? Did Paul? Did Peter? We have to leave everything to follow Him. Even fiancées, if necessary.”
    If necessary? Sitting cross-legged, Elle buckled over until her forehead met the sawdust-covered floor. “You’re asking me to give up everything to watch you soar, but won’t budge one inch toward me.”
    “That’s not my intention, Elle. I’m trying to be focused here. I don’t know, maybe the timing is all off. I do love you.” Elle felt his hesitation: I think . . .
    “What happened to ‘Love bears all things, endures and hopes’?”
    “I can love you, Elle, even if I’m not married to you.”
    She resented his soft explanation. “But I want to marry you. I love you here, now.”
    “Are you saying you want to marry a man who’s not ready?”
    “Mama mailed the invitations, Jeremiah.”
    “I’m sorry. I know this is awkward and untimely.”
    The shaking faded as the sad tears began. “Daddy spent a lot of money; friends and family have made plans.”
    “We can’t get married because people spent money and made plans.” His patience sounded thin. “I’ve spent hours thinking and considering the consequences to our actions. Either way, it’s difficult. But I want to do the right thing.”
    “Which is?” She wanted to hear him say, “It’s over.”
    “Call off the wedding.”
    “All right.”
    Unbidden, peace began to slip over her. The pain shooting over her scalp ceased, and the tension in her jaw vanished. She was done. With the conversation. With