Free Mr. Wrong by Taryn A. Taylor

love.”
    Bishop Archibald looked at Beau with surprise on his face. “Yes, I do agree.” He paused. “And, what, exactly, do you think that is?”
    “Well . . .”
    Sara was amazed to see that Beau looked a little unsure of himself.
    “I guess it is the kind of love that doesn’t have an ounce of pride. The kind of love that forgives no matter what he thinks has been unjustly taken from him.” His voice was soft and thoughtful.
    Sara thought about her father being unjustly taken from her. At least, that’s how it felt. She’d never had a mother. And that was okay with her. But—she’d been feeling like he was being unfairly taken from her, too. Lately, on the edges of her thoughts, there was anger toward the Lord that she tried to push away.
    B ishop Archibald rubbed his beard slowly. He looked back to the book, and his eyes got watery. “The kind of love Brother Joseph possessed was indeed from the Lord.” He pointed up. “And now, look at the time, I leave you with one thought . . . do you have that kind of love for your fellow man? And, of course, woman?” He smiled at them all and nodded. “Until Thursday my brothers and sisters. Let’s have a closing prayer.”
    Beau stepped past her desk. “Ms. Fairbanks.”
    Pulled from her thoughts she stared up at him. When he was teaching her Entrepreneurship class he was totally polished, funny, and completely credible. He was an awesome professor. But now looking up into his blue eyes—she saw his vulnerable side. And she didn’t know what to say to him. “Professor Hennings.”
    He walked toward the door, and Bishop Archibald reached his hand out to him. “Beau—can we talk in my office for a minute? I didn’t get a chance to see you on Sunday.”
    Beau nodded , and Sara thought he looked a little nervous. “That would be great.”
    **
    Sara felt relieved as she got out of her car and walked toward her apartment. It was Friday, and she had the weekend to regroup. They’d only been back for two weeks, and she felt like she had two months’ worth of homework. She stepped into the apartment and knew, just by looking at Genova, what she was going to tell her.
    “He didn’t. ” Sara put her hand out, demanding to see a ring on Genova’s finger.
    Genov a laughed and stuck out her hand like a little girl showing off her new piece of costume jewelry. Sara inspected the very small diamond on her friend’s finger. “It’s beautiful.” She hugged Genova to her. “I’m so happy for you.”
    “Can you believe it?” Genova pushed her hand out, gazing at it like it was four carats.
    “Let me guess.” Sara cupped her mouth like she had a megaphone. “He did it over the PA in Prexis Pasture.”
    Genova laughed. “No, silly. He was so sweet. When I walked in the apartment this afternoon he’d put together a pathway of roses, and he was down on his knee in front of a chocolate cake, my favorite, of course.” She put her hand to her chest dramatically. “Then he—,” her voice broke and her eyes got teary, “he told me he wanted to bake chocolate cakes for me for the rest of our lives.” Genova sobbed happily.
    Sara wrapped her arms around her. “That is awesome.” She could feel her friend’s happiness radiating off of her like waves of sonar energy piercing into her soul.
    Genova sniffed and pulled away. “We want a Christmas wedding.” Genova laughed and her eyes sparkled. “I can’t believe it, Sara. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.” She stopped abruptly and her smile got even wider. “You and Jonathon can have a double wedding with us.” She clapped her hands together excitedly.
    “No. ” Sara shook her head back and forth quickly, resolved they would not even discuss that.
    Genova frowned and all the energy seemed to drain out of her. “You’ve always said it would most likely be Christmas, why not?” She looked like she would cry.
    Sara collapsed onto the couch. “Oh, it’s just . . . lately it’s been . . .”