Here is the story finish for the Blog Event, Finish It #9. Thanks, Author S B Mazing for another chance to write a story from your prompt. It has been a great experience and great fun.
The prompt: Sitting on the rock, his feet dangling in the water. It was the place he could relax, where all the pressure was lifted off his shoulders. He wished he could share it with her though. While his eyes scanned the ocean, he wondered where she would be right now, what she was doing and whom she was with. To be continued:
How often he had come here since she had left him. She told him she wanted a divorce. It hit him hard. He thought they had overcome the problems and come to a new understanding and they could rebuild and be happy.
“I’m sorry, Josh. I . . . just don’t love you anymore,” she confessed. “I thought it might work between us, but it hasn’t.” Within a few hours, she was completely out of his life.
He had prayed. It hadn’t seemed to work. She didn’t come back. Sometimes he thought he saw her in a crowd but it wasn’t her. Thoughts ran through his mind as he gazed into the water lapping at his feet. We used to share these moments of relaxation. But no more. Who’s she with? Who’s taking care of her?
His pastor told him he needed to forgive. That didn’t mean what happened didn’t count. It meant he set himself free from anger and bitterness, the very thing that would destroy him. His anger couldn’t hurt her. But to forgive her is too hard, he argued with himself.
As stood up to go, a vivid memory flashed before him. He had been a difficult teen. He had stolen money from his single mother. He remembered how disrespectful he had been to her when she was trying so hard to support them. Then, something involved him in church and his life changed, inside and out. The hardest thing he ever did was to go to mother and ask her to forgive him—advice from his pastor. His mother had folded her arms around him, her tears falling on his neck. “Of course, my boy. Of course.”
He looked up to the sky. “Lord, it is too hard in myself, but you can help me.” Gritting his teeth with determination he continued, “I forgive her.” With that, he dried tears that had filled his eyes. A new light seemed to flow around him. He knew the sadness wouldn’t dissolve immediately; he would have to repeat the words when he the hurting seemed unbearble. But with the words had come a new freedom. He turned toward his car, then turned back once more. “Dear Lord, I let go of her. Take care of her.”