Redemption (5 page)

His words made a direct hit on Kari’s heart and knocked the wind out of her. Not in her wildest nightmares had she thought he would start the discussion like that. This was the part where he was supposed to apologize and beg her forgiveness. She reminded herself to breathe.
Help me, God.

She hadn’t wanted to believe it, even after seeing him run from the apartment the day before. And after her initial breakdown, she had decided to withhold all judgments on the matter until he got home, until they could talk about what happened and why Tim wasn’t at the conference as he had said he would be. In the meantime she’d had no choice but to act like nothing was wrong.

She’d gone to church that morning and taught second-grade Sunday school as always. For every question about her puffy eyes, she blamed allergies, saying nothing about the situation with Tim even when her mother asked twice if something was wrong.

After church she stopped to fill up the car. Every time thoughts of Tim came to mind her heart would race, her breathing suddenly fast and shallow.
There’s a reason
, she told herself.
There’s a reason . . . there’s a reason. . . .

And the anxiety would subside.

Three hours before Tim got home, she was putting away laundry, still insisting that somehow the situation couldn’t be as bad as it seemed, when she walked by their wedding photo on the living-room bookshelf. She searched his intelligent eyes, his friendly face, soaked in the love that clearly existed between the two of them, and she remembered the caller’s words from the day before.

Your husband’s having an affair . . . having an affair . . . having an affair. . . .

In less time than it took her to inhale, the reassuring pretense disappeared. Choking sobs erupted from her angry soul and spewed hot tears down her face.

Immediately, the situation became clear. Yes, her husband had a reason why he had lied to her and spent the weekend at a student’s apartment. It was the same reason the caller had given her, and no matter what lies she wanted to tell herself, the truth was blatantly obvious.

Tim was involved with another woman.

In that moment, the sorrow and anger in Kari’s heart became fury. She grabbed the wedding photo, hurled it across the room, and watched the glass shatter into dozens of pieces. Then slowly, as if she were in a trance, Kari sank to her knees and began to pray.

“I hate him, God!” She shouted the words, weeping harder than before. “How could he do this to me?”

At the end of two hours, Kari’s anger and sorrow, her sense of betrayal, were no less than before. But somehow a determination had come over her, and with it a clear and holy reminder of a truth—that same one her parents had lived by, the one she and Tim had agreed on before they married.

The truth was this: Love is a decision.

In the wake of Tim’s unfaithfulness, her heart urged her to hate him, tell him he wasn’t welcome back home, and then never see him again. God wanted something else. He wanted her to hear her husband’s explanation and be willing to forgive, willing to find counseling and make things work. Not because she felt like it, but because it was something she’d decided to do nearly six years ago.

So, in the final hour before Tim’s return, Kari pictured a hundred things he might say to her when he first walked through the door, when they first faced each other in light of what had happened. He’d apologize and tell her it was a mistake; he’d promise he’d never lie again. He’d insist the woman was nothing more than a distraction, a passing fancy. He’d blame stress at work and the fact that their marriage had fallen into a routine.

But the last thing she expected him to say, the thing she had never imagined he might tell her, was that he no longer wanted to be married.

Tim moved to sit on the sofa and anchored his elbows on his knees, his brows knit, his eyes searching hers. “Did you hear me?” His voice was quiet, laced with finality. “I don’t want to be married anymore.”

The rage within her was suffocating, but there were no sobs this time, no weeping. “That’s it?” She crossed her arms, trying to ease the sick feeling in her stomach. “No explanations or promises? Nothing?”

Tim dropped his head in his hands, groaned, and then looked back up at her. “I should have told you a month ago.”

The sick feeling became a driving nausea, and it welled up in Kari’s throat. She wondered if she should race for the bathroom or throw up on the carpet.
What’s happening? What is this, God?

Do not be afraid.

This time the silent assurance was too late. Amidst the feelings of pain and anger and even hatred, Kari felt a flash of sheer terror. Were divorce papers drawn up and waiting? Was he planning to move in with this woman? Could that actually happen? Could Tim leave her and marry someone else?

The questions pelted her like hail.

She couldn’t live in Bloomington knowing she might run into Tim and his . . . his student.

The premonition of what her life might soon become was more than she could bear. She blinked, and the terror faded. In its place her fury was more controlled. “Who—” her voice was a whisper, her throat pinched—“who is she?”

Tim stared at his hands, and when he glanced up he looked ten years older than before. “It doesn’t matter.”

Again Kari was dumbfounded. “So you’re not denying it? You’re seeing someone else?”

“I thought it was a phase.” Tim’s eyes remained fixed on hers. “That it would go away in time.”

Kari tightened her grip on the back of a chair and tried desperately to make sense of what was happening. The nausea was still there, but it was being overtaken by a growing sense of panic. Her emotions swung wildly from fear to anger and back again, and she could think of nothing to say.

After a long pause his gaze fell to his feet again.

He’s afraid to look at me.
The thought settled like a rock in her empty gut.

“There’s no other way to say this, Kari. I want a divorce.” He looked briefly at her. “I still care for you, but I’m not . . . I’m not in love with you.”

The panic became a tidal wave around her, consuming her. “You’re in
love
with her?”

Tim made eye contact and gave the faintest shrug. “I am.”

What was he saying? She could almost feel the hands of angels keeping her from collapsing on the floor. She straightened and paced across the living room and back, stopping directly in front of her husband. “She’s a student, Tim. What is she—nineteen? twenty?”

For the first time since he’d gotten home, Tim’s expression became defensive. “She’s twenty-four, okay? And I met her almost a year ago.”

Kari’s head was spinning. “A year ago?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Who was this woman, and what did she look like? Was she one of the students he had raved about last year? The whole situation was impossible. “You’ve been seeing her for a
year?”

Tim shook his head and massaged his fingertips against his temples. “I met her at the beginning of the spring semester. It didn’t get serious until . . . until a few months ago.”

He stood up and threw his hands in the air. “There’s no point to this, Kari.” His voice was loud, frustrated. “What I do with my life after you and I divorce is my business.”

The tidal wave came crashing down, and Kari fell back into the chair again. Her heart raced dangerously fast, and she couldn’t grab a full breath. Pain shot down her arms, and there was a heaviness on her chest that grew worse with each passing second.

Lord, help me. I’m falling. Father . . . help!

I am with you.

The gentle whispers in the depths of Kari’s soul brought only a fraction of relief, but it was enough to ease the pain and allow her to inhale. “You owe me more than that, Tim.” She steadied herself and stared up at him. “She’s not your wife. I am.”

Tim opened his fists, took hold of his wedding ring, and slid it off his finger. “Don’t you get it, Kari?” He tossed the ring on the coffee table, shook his head, and sat down. “It’s over. I want out. I don’t want to be married anymore.”

As the ring clattered onto the table, something in Kari shut down. It was almost as if a protective shield had gone up around her heart, a kind of armor that simply would not allow her any more pain. She felt dizzy and sicker than before, yet somehow detached and clear-eyed, as if she were observing the whole scene from a distance.

Her husband was nothing of the man she’d thought him to be. Instead, he had lied and cheated on her, and now he was saying their marriage was over. She looked at him sitting there, his long fingers clenched together, his head lowered, giving her a clear view of the bald spot just beginning to show on the top of his head.

She remembered a verse from their wedding:
And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Acting with what she could explain only as supernatural power, and without so much as a single tear, she studied her husband and steadied her voice. The anger was still there, but her determination was greater. “We need counseling.”

Tim’s mouth hung open. “Counseling?” He rolled his eyes, his tone louder than before. “Kari, I’m sorry this is hard for you to accept, but you need to hear me. I want a divorce, not counseling. I’m in love with someone else.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Kari leaned back and crossed her arms tightly in front of her. “God can forgive you.”

Her husband swore under his breath and stared at her as if she’d just stepped off an alien spaceship. “I don’t want God’s forgiveness.” His voice filled the room. “Not now, not ever. It’s my life . . . however I choose to live it.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he held out a hand to stop her. “I don’t want
your
forgiveness either. I don’t want to be married. It’s not fair to either of us.” He paused, and the dejected calm returned to his tone. “I want a divorce. Nothing less.”

Again a strength she couldn’t explain coursed through her. “You’re my husband, Tim. We promised each other forever. Whatever you’ve done, God can help me forgive you. We can get counseling and work it out.”

Tim glared at her, got up and crossed the room, and grabbed the overnight bag he had brought home with him. He stood that way for a moment; then he let it fall once more and slowly came to stand with his feet nearly touching hers. “I loved you, Kari.” He shrugged, and his eyes were sadder than they’d been since he arrived. “I never meant to hurt you with this. But I’m not staying married to you. I can’t live a lie.” His voice grew softer. “I’m moving in with Angela tonight.”

“No . . .” The comment was out before Kari could stop it. The veneer of calm was giving way, threatening to release an avalanche of rage and pain and heartache. She could feel her limbs shaking from her scattered emotions, and her mind raced as she considered her options.

Tim raked his fingers over the tops of his thighs as if he was trying to keep from shouting at her. Then his hands relaxed, and he spoke quietly, simply. “I’m sorry, Kari.”

Without waiting another moment, he grabbed his bag again and headed toward their bedroom.

“Don’t do this, Tim.” Her words trailed after him, but he didn’t look back. She closed her eyes and screamed, “Help me, God! I don’t know what to do.”

For the next thirty minutes she stayed anchored to the chair. She heard him searching through the closet and pictured him finding his suitcase. She listened to the sound of dresser drawers and closet doors opening and closing, and finally he appeared in the living room once more.

He had a suitcase in each hand, the overnight bag hanging from his shoulder.

She felt like a dazed accident victim. “Don’t go.”

Again the words seemed strangely out of place, as if they were coming from someone else. Tim was in love with another woman and wanted a divorce. He’d become the cruelest man he could ever be. He’d broken their wedding vows and done the one thing that would give her a scriptural excuse for ending their marriage.

But despite her anger and grief, despite the shock that still shook her body, she knew one thing for certain: She didn’t want a way out. She didn’t want to give up on her promise to stay no matter what, to love no matter the cost.

Her anger subsided. “Stay.” Sorrow and fear smothered her voice. “Work it out with me. Please.”

Tim hesitated, and she almost thought he might change his mind. She looked deeply into his eyes and willed him to hear her heart.
Come on . . . don’t give up on us. . . .

“Good-bye, Kari. I’ll call you tomorrow; we need to talk about the legalities.” He took one step toward the front door. “You can reach me at work.”

Kari stood. She thought of a dozen things she wanted to say and do. She wanted to walk up and slap him across the face, spit at him, or kick him in the leg. She wanted to punch a hole in the wall or collapse in a heap and have a complete breakdown—the one only God was holding at bay, the one she was certain to have in the hours and days and weeks ahead.

Instead, she looked at Tim as he walked out the door and said just one thing.

“I won’t give you a divorce.”

Chapter Four

She slept on the couch, crying so hard she thought her ribs would break. Countless times Kari considered going back to the woman’s apartment, finding Tim, asking him if it weren’t all a bad dream. Begging him to tell her it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t in love with one of his students, determined never to come home.

But in the end she stayed on the couch.

The truth was so real it was suffocating. Sometime around three o’clock in the morning, her heart began skipping about in irregular patterns. Sweat broke out across her forehead and she felt flushed. Kari recognized the symptoms. She was having an anxiety attack.

Small wonder.

She turned on the table lamp and reached for the Bible she kept beneath it.
Show me something, Lord . . . give me peace. I can’t make it through the night
.

Flipping through the pages, she settled into Psalms and began skimming verses, looking for promises of peace or vengeance or at the very least, deliverance. Her eyes scanned Psalms 48 and 49, and then from deep in the sea of pain her feet hit solid ground.