Page 50 of Love Unscripted
“Yes, absolutely. Good thing I didn’t do this study beforehand, though.”
He glanced at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Xerxes doesn’t seem to be a very nice man. And here I was going through beauty treatments trying to impress him.”
Aaron laughed. “Don’t worry. Esther wasn’t trying to impress him as much as being obedient—following the instructions of Hegai, the king’s eunuch. Remember she is a slave. She doesn’t have many choices. She remained humble, relying on grace rather than beauty to find favor.”
“Is that why you insisted I play her with soft grace and humility?”
He smiled. “Yes, Camille. That’s exactly why. But let’s not jump ahead—that’s next week’s study.”
“I thought we were going to do two chapters today.”
“That was the plan,” he said, glancing at his watch. “But it’s eight-fifteen, and I’ve got to go and collect Madison and get her home to bed.”
Camille sighed lightly. “I think we’re going to have to add an extra day in the week if we want to finish before the movie ends, Aaron.”
He considered it. “The week’s already tight.”
“What about the weekend?” she said quickly, lifting a hand before he could object. “Hear me out. Weekends are our time. We can surely carve out an hour one evening. We don’t have to meet at each other’s homes—we could meet somewhere in the middle. At a restaurant, or in the park, or somewhere neutral. I’m just really excited about this and don’t want to lose momentum.”
Aaron watched her for a moment, thoughtful, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I think that could work. It would only be for four weeks anyway. Saturday might be best—I could ask my parents to babysit. Sunday’s already full with church and the luncheon and all.”
“Oh, by the way, I think what you’re doing, opening up your home to people, is really terrific.”
He smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
“What inspired that?”
“The Holy Spirit led me to do it. It started with a couple people and then I opened it up to everyone. I figured that if the hospitality gets them to come to church that’s still a win. You don’t know, a seed may be planted.”
“Yes,” Camille said, smiling. “or watered. I’ll be back on Sunday.”
He nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad to hear that we made an impression on you.”
“Yes, you certainly have.”
~*~*~*~
Camille stepped into her walk-in closet and surveyed the rows of carefully curated clothing. She knew her Bible study with Aaron later that evening wasn’t a date—but she still wanted to look nice. As she weighed her options, her phone rang.
She crossed back into the bedroom and picked it up.
Carlo Carlucci.
Her fingers stilled and her chest tightened.
She hadn’t heard from her father in months. Silence had been easier—cleaner. Forgiveness, she was learning, was rarely clean.
She had been reading about it lately. About how bitterness corrodes the vessel that carries it. Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Four years earlier, when she’d taken control of her finances and uncovered the mismanagement, the truth had felt like betrayal layered upon betrayal. When she fired him, he had lashed out—calling her ungrateful, entitled, blind to all he’d sacrificed. He claimed every reckless decision had been love in disguise.
She exhaled. Forgiveness did not mean pretending that it hadn’t happened. It didn’t mean calling evil good. It didn’t mean subjecting herself—again—to his charm.
Still. Christ had forgivenherfar more. She answered.
“Hello.”
