Free Take Three by Karen Kingsbury

amazing wife—back home with their two daughters. Trusting him, believing in him. Needing him. And what about his little girls—Molly and Macy.
    Marketing The Last Letter , planning and filming their next picture. All of it would take more time away from home. Already he’d missed much of the past year—time he wouldn’t get back again. Help me, God. Show me what You want me to do. Please, Lord.
    Suddenly he remembered the words Keith had said earlier, how easy it would be to win the world for Christ through film, and meanwhile lose themselves. Chase stood and walked to the bathroom, gripped the granite countertop, and stared at himself in the mirror. I need an answer, God. Please show me how to survive this.
    Back in his bedroom he found the framed photo of Kelly and the girls, the one he took on road trips. His heart hurt as he picked it up and stared at the faces he loved. How close had he come tonight to falling? Slowly and with an ache in his chest, Chase dropped back to the bed, the picture still clutched in his hands. “No, God…please no,” his words were an anguished whisper. “I don’t want to fail. I need Your protection.” He couldn’t have even a hint of impropriety. Not now or ever. “Show me the way, please.”
    When his desperate prayer was over, he struggled to his feet and realized how strange this night had been—the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. He was not going to make films for God only to lose his marriage along the way. He knew what hehad to do, and he strode purposefully to his laptop, opened it, and set it on the small desk.
    With a series of clicks he ordered a dozen long-stemmed roses sent to Kelly at their home address. On the note card he directed them to write only this: “We won big tonight, but it was not the same without you. I love you more than you know. Chase.”
    He scheduled the roses to be delivered the next day, and then he made the call he should’ve made an hour ago. Kelly had never sounded more glad to hear from him, more absolutely trusting. The girls were in bed, of course, and she’d been waiting for his call. Macy’s fever was down, and Kelly thought she had turned the corner and was recovering from the flu. Chase savored every word that came across the line. Her voice was like an oasis, an embrace that brought a physical comfort, one that soothed every rough, jagged part of his heart.
    “I prayed for you,” she said. “Tell me everything.”
    Guilt sliced through his soul because he couldn’t tell her everything. Not the part about his temptations and struggles or how the reporters thought Kendall was his wife or how even Ben Adams had been concerned that Chase and Kendall might have an attraction to each other. Kelly didn’t deserve those details. Instead he told her everything else. About the paparazzi and the enormous crowd outside the theater, the packed house, and the representatives from every studio in Hollywood.
    “Honey, that’s amazing.” She released a quiet squeal. “It’s everything I asked God about.”
    He finished by telling her about the offer from American Pictures and the news that NTM had retracted their earlier announcement about Brandon Paul. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and the whole thing will be one wonderful dream.” He closed his eyes and massaged his brow. He hated this, feeling like a phony. He didn’t deserve any part of what was happening around him. Least of all, the loving woman waiting back home for him. He kept his tone appropriately upbeat. “It doesn’t feel real.”
    “But it is. Because God’s doing this, Chase.” Her love, her support, warmed her words and touched him deeply. She paused, and passion filled her voice. “I only wish I were there with you.”
    They talked a while longer, and before their conversation ended, Kelly remembered one last thing. “Check your email. I forgot to tell you, but Pastor Hastings called. I guess he sent you something. Said it was time