Vivian didn’t sleep well that night.

In fact, she didn’t sleep at all.

She felt naked—weak and vulnerable—without her phone. She often had trouble shutting down her mind at night, so she would distract and amuse herself by looking at her phone in bed. She would check her email, the Faith and Fabulousness social media sites, read some news and commentary sites she enjoyed, and occasionally play games if she was really bored and restless. But without her phone she couldn’t do any of that, so she had to lie in bed, hour after hour, wondering what was happening in the world and worried that she was missing out on something important.

It wasn’t a good feeling.

And she couldn’t help but blame Jeff for it.

If he’d just minded his own business, she wouldn’t have had to give up her hidden phone. No one would have known the difference, and she’d have been able to make it through the week just fine.

Now the six remaining days stretched out in bleak, empty endlessness.

How had Jeff known about the phone anyway? She’d been careful with it. No one had seen it. It was like he’d read her mind or something.

Another feeling she really didn’t like.

She took a long shower and blew her hair dry, working herself back into her game face so she could socialize with the others today. She didn’t feel like it. At all. She mostly felt like hibernating, preferably with her phone.

But obviously she didn’t have a choice.

She was the boss here, so she had to act like she was having a grand time and didn’t want to be anywhere else.

When she heard a knock on her door, she knew it was Jeff. She overcame the urge to just let him keep knocking and opened the door with a smile.

He was dressed in cargo shorts and a green golf shirt, and she was immediately hit with how appealing he was—cute and lean and masculine and serious—just a little uptight. His eyebrows lowered. “Didn’t you sleep well?”

Okay, this was getting annoying. She’d put on makeup and dressed in bright pink. She looked fresh and perfectly pulled together. There was no way Jeff should be able to tell that she’d lain awake all night.

“I slept fine,” she told him, forcing a smile.

When it looked like he was going to continue the topic, she added, “Let’s go on down. I’m starving this morning.”

She wasn’t starving. She just didn’t want to have the conversation Jeff appeared to want to have.

He didn’t look convinced—or particularly happy—but he didn’t argue as they walked down the hall to the elevator and then descended to the ground floor to head into the dining room.

They were the first of the staff down this morning, so they headed over to the breakfast bar and loaded up their plates with eggs, fruit, biscuits, and sausage gravy.

Vivian didn’t usually eat breakfast, and she would prefer to just have toast and coffee this morning. But she’d told Jeff she was starving, and so she was trapped by the lie.

One reason it was usually better to just tell the truth.

She stared down at her full plate and realized she would have to eat it. She felt terrible. She was exhausted. She was starting to get a headache.

And she missed her phone.

“It’s like withdrawal, isn’t it?” Jeff said, having prayed silently for a few seconds and now starting to dig into his own plate.

“What is?”

“Going without your phone.”

She scowled at him.

“Clearly it affects your mood. Like withdrawal.” His voice was very dry.

She tried to smooth the scowl from her face. She was over thirty. She didn’t want to get wrinkles just because Jeff was being an ass. “You don’t have to gloat about it.”

“Does it sound like I’m gloating?”

“Yes. It really does.”

“Well, I’m not.” His voice wasn’t dry anymore. It was characteristically serious. His deep brown eyes were scanning her face with an intensity that made her self-conscious. “I meant it. It’s like withdrawal.”

“Why aren’t you having any trouble with it?”

“I don’t think I was ever as tied to my phone as you are, but I do find it kind of frustrating not to be able to check in. But I’ve got other things to think about.”

“Like what?”

“Like making sure you’re not going off the deep end.”

Her attempt at saving her skin from wrinkles failed utterly. She snarled at him. “I’m not going off the deep end. You really think I’m having a breakdown or something?”

“No. Of course not. But you’re clearly having a hard time with it.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’re usually in a better mood than this.”

He was right. Of course he was right. After her two cups of coffee in the morning, she was usually cheerful and ready to start the day. It wasn’t just an act. She liked what she did, and she enjoyed going to the office. She liked the people she worked with.

Even Jeff.

When he wasn’t being an ass.

“Maybe it’s not the phone that’s the problem,” she snapped. “Maybe it’s you.”

He was about to say something in response, but Garrett and Rachel had arrived a few minutes ago and were heading over to their table with smiles and loaded plates.

Vivian let out a breath and put on a matching smile to greet them, relieved that the discussion with Jeff was over.

It wasn’t like he could snipe at her in front of the rest of the staff.

***

They played tennis that morning after breakfast—something Vivian knew how to do and was good at, so she wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d been the day before.

After that, they needed to do a creative activity, required by the rules of Balm in Gilead. No one had any strong ideas about what they should do, but Mel enjoyed scrapbooking and suggested they do that. There was a dedicated room filled with supplies, and it seemed like a harmless enough activity, so they all agreed.

Vivian didn’t actually enjoy it, although she joked and laughed with the others as they took and printed out photos of themselves and their surroundings and then put them into a book filled with fancy paper, cutouts, and stickers.

Her pages looked really nice, so she’d obviously done a decent job participating in the activity.

Jeff wasn’t any good at it, and she couldn’t help but enjoy that fact.

She felt petty and silly whenever she recognized how she was thinking, and she tried to clear her mind of her bad mood and focus on the task at hand. But it felt like she was faking it, putting on a mask, filling a role she was supposed to fill.

It was better than pouting though, and no one seemed the wiser.

They’d been working for more than an hour and were nearly finished with their little book when she got up to go to the bathroom, having drunk too much coffee and then water this morning.

She was on her way back to the room when she was surprised to see Jeff in the hallway waiting for her.

He was frowning at her again.

What the hell did he want now?

“What?” she asked in a soft voice, although they were alone in the hall.

“This is supposed to be a retreat for you too, you know,” he said, just as quietly as she had.

“What are you talking about?”

“Can’t you let down and be yourself even for a morning?”

She gaped at him. They were usually honest with each other, and they didn’t always have perfectly nice things to say to each other, but all he’d done was criticize her for the past two days. She had no idea what had gotten into him.

“I am being myself,” she replied coolly.

“No, you’re not. You’ve got your game face on again. You’re putting on a show for them.” He waved toward the door to the craft room to indicate the rest of the staff. “You’re trying to present yourself to the world in a certain way, the way you always do—as if you were one of your rooms to decorate or photos to stage. You’re not, and that’s not what we’re here for. So maybe, for once, you can try to be real for a little while.”

She stared at him blindly for a moment as she processed his words.

It felt like he’d hit her or stabbed her in the chest. It literally hurt that bad.

It was one thing for him to criticize her for sneaking in a phone or being crabby that morning—that was understandable, and she’d probably deserved it.

But this was far deeper than that.

This was the person she was.

He thought she was fake. He thought that fake was all she was.

And she’d stupidly believed that Jeff was one of the few people who truly loved her.

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. There was no way she could speak, so she didn’t even try. She wasn’t the kind of person who walked away when someone said something mean to her. She’d always been someone who fought back.

But this simply hurt too much.

She stepped around Jeff, not really seeing him through the blur in her eyes, and she returned to the room with the others.

They were laughing over a joke that Garrett had made, so Vivian asked what it was. She laughed too when they told her.

Jeff returned to the room shortly after she did, and she could feel him watching her for the ten minutes it took for them to finish their book.

He looked like he had something to say to her, but she didn’t want to hear it.

Mostly she wanted to get away and cry for a minute, but she didn’t have the leisure, so she smiled and smiled and smiled and smiled and tried not to think about what Jeff evidently thought about her and waited to finally be alone.

***

She got through lunch with the rest of the staff, and they all agreed to again do their own things that afternoon, as they had the day before. As soon as she could make an escape, she hurried up to her room and closed the door, finally feeling safe, like she was shutting out the rest of the world.

She wasn’t really near tears anymore, but she felt sick and depressed and so exhausted she could barely move. She kicked off her shoes, pulled the ponytail holder out of her hair, and collapsed on her bed.

She wondered how long Jeff had thought this about her.

She wondered how long he’d been waiting to say something to her about it.

She wondered if she really was just fake, focused only on appearances, not doing or being anything genuine.

Her parents probably believed the same thing about her.

She really needed her phone right now to distract herself, to help push these thoughts out of her mind.

Everyone got hurt and depressed sometimes. She was human like everyone else. But she was usually able to focus on other things and get over them fairly quickly.

But she had absolutely nothing to focus on right now. No phone, no computer, no television, no tablet. She had a book but didn’t have the energy to read.

She had nothing but her thoughts.

She hated feeling this way.

She hated it.

She’d only been lying on her bed for fifteen minutes when there was a knock on her door.

She knew it was Jeff.

She knew it.

And she really didn’t want to talk to him.

She waited for about thirty seconds. Then the knock came again.

“Go away,” she called out.

“I’m not going away. Let me in.” Jeff’s voice. Sounding very serious and slightly impatient.

“I’m taking a nap.”

“No, you’re not. Let me in.” He kept knocking.

She waited for another minute, but the knocking continued.

No one was as stubborn as Jeff. He’d stand there knocking for an hour if she didn’t open the door, and she just didn’t have the energy to deal with that this afternoon.

She groaned softly as she got up and went to the door. She swung the door open and blinked at him. “What?”

“Are you going to let me in?”

“No. I told you I was napping. What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.” He glanced down the hall when someone’s voice drifted in their direction. “Do you really want to have this discussion in the hallway?”

She sighed and stepped aside so he could come in.

He must have taken a shower because the edge of his hair was slightly damp. He had on another golf shirt. He nearly always wore shirts with collars.

At least he wasn’t wearing a tie today.

He took about four steps into the room and just looked at her as she closed the door.

When he didn’t say anything, she arched her eyebrows. “You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

He opened his mouth and then closed it again without speaking.

“What?” she said. “If you have more criticism of me, then just spit it out.”

“I’m so sorry, Vivian,” he said in a hoarse rush. “I’m so incredibly sorry for hurting you.”

She hadn’t been expecting the apology, and it caught her off guard. She was hit with a wave of emotion—one left over from earlier than day and intensified by her lack of sleep.

Jeff took a step closer to her and reached out to take her hand. He held it in both of hers. “I mean it, Viv. I’m so sorry.”

“Okay,” she managed to say. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is. I hurt you. I can see how much.”

She gave a little shrug. “It’s mostly because I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

He shook his head, his eyes deep and tender. “No, it’s not. I hurt you, and I never wanted to do that.”

He was still holding her hand. His were warm and surprisingly strong. The touch made her feel strange—good and excited and jittery.

She gently pulled her hand free. “It’s okay,” she said, dropping her eyes and then raising them briefly back to his face. “We’ve always been honest with each other. If you had something to say, then you could say it.”

“But it came out wrong. It came out like I was… like I was judging who you are. And I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I just wanted you to relax a little and be yourself. You don’t always have to put on a perfect front for everyone. But it came out all wrong, and I know I hurt you, and I wouldn’t do that for the world.”

She could see he meant it. He was completely vulnerable. Completely earnest.

It made her feel good and jittery in a different way.

She swallowed and gave a little nod. “Okay. Thanks for saying that.”

He stood in front of her without moving for a moment. “So,” he began at last. “So we’re okay?”

“Of course we’re okay. I’m not so petty and immature that I’d hold a grudge. Did you think I would?”

“No, of course not. I just don’t want you to still be thinking about it. I don’t want you to still be upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You look upset to me. You’ve been crying.”

“No, I haven’t.” To be safe, she slid her fingertips under her eyes to make sure her mascara hadn’t been running. “I told you. I’m tired. I didn’t get any sleep last night, and then you woke me up from my nap.”

“You weren’t napping.” For the first time, a little smile played on the corners of his mouth.

It made her want to smile back, but she didn’t. “I was about to.”

“Okay. I’ll let you get back to it then. As long as you’re really going to sleep and not just brood about what I said.”

“You’re overestimating your own importance again. I never brood about what you say.” She walked with him toward the door, relieved they were back to their normal interaction. Then she heard herself adding, “But I’m not always trying to put on a show or presenting myself to the world like I’m a photo to be staged.”

He paused, his expression changing. “Not all the time, no. But sometimes you do.”

“I do not.”

She didn’t know why she was arguing. She’d almost gotten him out of the room so she could be alone, but now he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d come to a dead halt, and his eyes were searching her face in that way he had, the one that made her nervous and self-conscious.

“You know you do sometimes, Viv. Everyone does to a certain extent. It’s how we learn to interact with each other. But you do it in a different way, when you think that what you’re really feeling or thinking or doing isn’t quite up to snuff. I’ve known you for years, Viv. I know you better than anyone. There’s no sense in lying to me about it.”

She had that lump in her throat again, but it was different this time. It didn’t feel like he was criticizing her. It felt like he was telling the truth, and she wished the truth was otherwise.

Maybe her parents were right about her—that she’d spent her life pursuing superficial entertainment—and it had made her superficial herself.

“I can’t help thinking,” Jeff was going on, “that you put on the pretty picture because you don’t think there’s anything real in you to show.”

Her lips parted slightly, and she almost swayed on her feet. “Maybe there’s not,” she heard herself whispering.

He shook his head and reached out to cup her cheek with one hand. “Yes, there is, Viv. You know there is when you’re thinking clearly, when these lies aren’t clouding your thinking. You know there is. And I know there is too.”

She let out a breath and realized she was leaning her face into his warm hand. She took a step back and felt shaky, so she walked over to sit down on the edge of her bed.

Jeff came over to sit down beside her.

She gave him a little smile, trying to feel more like herself. “You’re getting to be kind of a know-it-all lately.”

He gave a soft huff of amusement. “Maybe on this subject, I do know it all.”

“What subject?”

“You.” His eyes were deep and soft and tender again, and they were doing very disturbing things to her heart. She had to look away.

“Do you know the first time I saw you?” he asked.

“We met at the RUF meeting in college.” She remembered it very clearly. She’d gone with her roommate to a weekly meeting of one of the campus ministries in her first semester in college, and she’d sat down next to Jeff. After it was over, he’d introduced himself to her very soberly and even stuck out his hand for her to shake.

She’d thought he was cute and kind of nerdy. No one shook hands back in college.

“That was when we first met. It’s not when I first saw you.”

“When did you first see me?”

“At one of the freshman orientation events.”

“You were two years ahead of me.”

“I was working the orientation. And there you were, pretty and blond and smiling and already having other kids swarming around you like you were the most fragrant flower in the garden. I figured you were one of those girls.” His mouth twisted slightly. “You know, the popular ones who… who don’t have a lot going on underneath.”

“Maybe that’s who I am.”

He shook his head. “Ralph was clearing dishes in the dining hall when we went in for lunch. Do you remember Ralph?”

“Yeah, I think so. The one who stuttered.”

“Yes. That’s him. Anyway, he was kind of weird-looking, and everyone kind of gave him a wide berth. And when you walked by, he stared at you and got distracted and dropped his tray of dishes. You went over and helped him pick them up.”

Vivian was trying to remember the incident and couldn’t. It was a small thing, and she couldn’t remember it even happening. “So maybe I did. What’s your point?”

“You smiled at Ralph. You helped him. You looked him in the eye. You treated him like a human being when almost no one else did. I knew who you were then. I knew you weren’t just a pretty face, and I knew you were someone I wanted to know.”

She was breathing heavily now, and her hands were shaking slightly. She twisted them together so Jeff wouldn’t see. She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure she did. It sounded like a nice thing he was making up to make her feel better.

It did make her feel better.

“Why didn’t you introduce yourself to me then, if you really wanted to get to know me?”

Jeff gave a wry chuckle. “Are you kidding me? You think I was the kind of guy who would just go up to a pretty girl and introduce myself? I was the kind of guy who got tongue-tied and ended up making a complete fool of himself.”

She giggled. She couldn’t help it. “You introduced yourself to me at the RUF meeting.”

“Y-yeah. That’s because you sat down right next to me. And it took all the courage I possessed, and I still think you thought I was pretty geeky.”

She cleared her throat and tried to sober her expression.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured. But his eyes were fond and amused, and he reached over and picked up one of her hands from her lap. “Vivian, nothing about my impression of you that very first day has been shown to be a lie. You’re the warmest, most generous person I’ve ever met. You see people as humans, not as things to be used. You see into the heart of things. You see into the heart of me.” His voice broke slightly, and he stopped talking.

She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to hear more. “I… It’s nice of you to say that.”

“I’m not being nice, Viv. I’m telling you the truth. The real you is the best, smartest, kindest, loveliest person I’ve ever met in my life. You don’t have to pretend to be perfect and perfectly beautiful for people to love you. They’re going to love you anyway.”

She was trembling even more now, and she realized there were tears streaming out of her eyes. Since he was still holding one of her hands, she swiped them away quickly with the other.

There was no way Jeff hadn’t seen the tears though.

“I’m not usually a crier,” she said, giving him a wobbly smile.

“I know you’re not.” He was stroking her palm with his thumb, and the small touch sent shivers all the way through her.

“It must be lack of sleep,” she added, telling herself to pull her hand away. He was making her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling.

“I’m sure that’s what it is,” he said softly.

She liked the sound of his voice. And the way he seemed to really know her. And she really liked his touch.

She still hadn’t pulled her hand away.

***

The rest of the day was a lot better. Jeff eventually left her room, and she was actually able to take a nap, so she was rested when she went to the pool later in the afternoon.

After dinner, they all went down to the beach and made a fire in one of the fire pits. They sat around it, drinking wine and roasting marshmallows and telling funny stories.

Vivian had a really good time. She didn’t even miss her phone too much.

Jeff was sitting beside her, and they kept meeting each other’s eyes, smiling or laughing. After about an hour, he’d slung an arm around her shoulders. It was just a companionable gesture. No one seemed to think a thing about it.

But it was starting to give Vivian wrong thoughts.

He looked cuter than ever in the moonlight and flickering firelight. Better than cute. Handsome. Masculine. Incredibly sexy.

She really shouldn’t be thinking about him that way, but she couldn’t help it. After a while, she started to get hit by increasing waves of attraction.

She wanted Jeff to tighten his grip on her.

She wanted him to start moving his hands.

She wanted him to touch her all over.

She wanted him to kiss her.

And all of it was totally wrong.

Eventually she was flushed and shaky and could no longer meet Jeff’s eyes. Every time she looked at him, she would want him even more.

When his hand moved slightly, brushing her hair gently away from her neck, the jolt of pleasure and excitement that shot through her was too much for her to handle.

She cleared her throat and pulled away from him, telling the others that she was getting overly hot in the fire, so she was going to walk for a little while.

They all seemed to think her excuse was perfectly normal, so she was able to escape, breathing deeply in the sea breeze as she walked away.

Unfortunately, she heard footsteps right behind her.

She knew who it was, even before he fell in step with her.

She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t risk it.

“Viv,” Jeff said, clearly trying to get her attention, get her to meet his eyes.

“What?” she said, staring out at the moonlight on the waves.

“Are you still mad at me?”

“Of course not.”

“It feels like you’re still mad at me, like you just remembered how I hurt you this morning.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said, wishing, willing, praying that he’d go away and leave her alone for a minute.

He reached out and put a hand on her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. “Viv, wait. I thought things were okay between us. I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

She let out a sigh that was almost a groan. “I said I wasn’t mad.”

“It feels like you are. Something’s definitely wrong.”

“Well, I’m not mad. You’re reading this completely wrong. I’m not mad!” She looked up at him again and almost gulped at how handsome he looked in the soft light of the night, like some hero out of her fantasies.

Jeff wasn’t supposed to be her hero.

He was the last man who could be her hero.

He reached up to brush her hair back from her face, searching her expression deeply. “You aren’t?”

“No. I’m really not.”

His expression changed, and she had no idea what he might have seen in her face. But he clearly didn’t think she was angry anymore. His own features had softened, deepened, warmed.

He kept his hand on her face. “Good. I don’t want you to be mad.”

“I’m not,” she murmured hoarsely.

He leaned in toward her, his eyes becoming hot all a sudden.

And she knew—she knew—he was going to kiss her, and it was the only thing she wanted in the world.

Then he suddenly jerked back and cleared his throat. “Good,” he said, turning her around so they were walking back toward the fire. “If you’re not mad, then come back and join the others.”

She did what he said because it was safer that way, but she was brimming with emotion, with desire, and she was screaming inside at the loss of the kiss it had felt like she’d almost gotten.

It was better this way.

Clearly.

She couldn’t go around and kiss Jeff.

But she really, really wanted to.