Chapter 39 — Katerina

“Good morning, ma’am,” the usher greeted us, passing each person a folded pamphlet with the heading of the church's name and the current date.

I could scarcely remember to echo the greeting back to him; I was too preoccupied with the feeling of Alexander's hand in mine. Too shocked by the fact that he was here, in church, with me. My heartfelt moments from stopping, too paralyzed by hope and fear and something almost akin to love. Hope kept me afloat, made me feel as though I was walking on air, as he led me to one of the benches in the middle of the room. Yet hope was tempered by a good dose of fear—fear that he wouldn't return. Fear that he might not be as committed to this whole faith business as I was, fear that I would, as I had worried before, wind up married to a man who did not know God.

And I refused to submit to a man who would not submit to God.

We took our seats on the carved wooden pews. When Alex excused himself to use the bathroom, I bowed my head for silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please—please let Your Holy Spirit convict him in this place. Thank you for bringing us here together to worship You, and I just pray that Alexander would be moved to come back. That he would want to come back, that You would move him to want to know more about you. In Jesus's precious name, amen. I looked up and saw that a young man was standing at the end of the pew.

"May I help you?" I asked primly.

"Is this seat taken?" And before I could even answer him with a resounding yes, he sat down in my fiancé's seat anyways. Stifling a smile at his social faux pas, I knew Alexander would be able to shoo him out with an icy look and no words at all when he came back.

If he comes back, hissed the slimy voice of doubt in my head. I silenced it and spoke to the stranger. "There is someone sitting here."

He didn't move. How despicably rude! "A boyfriend?" he asked.

His impoliteness was growing by the second, and so was my impatience. I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it in a whoosh. "No."

"So, you're single?" His heavy cologne choked me, not to mention the fact that I could see every comb mark in his overly gelled hair.

I lifted my left hand, glad that I had started wearing the heavy ring with its many-carat diamond and gold band again, due to the media speculation. Despite being ostentatious, it tended to ward off potential suitors—or I hoped it would. "I'm engaged," I gritted out the words between my teeth.

"Excuse me," came the cold voice of my fiancé. His blue gaze appeared to drill through the irritating man's forehead, as though he was imagining setting the man on fire. "You're in my seat."

The words were polite enough. It was the tone that sent the man who had all the personality of a gadfly scrambling out the door, a panicked look on his face. Warmth spread through my veins.

"Don't worry, I've already summoned security. They'll escort him out of here," Alexander informed me, sliding smoothly into the seat next to mine. The weight of his arm around my shoulders gave me the reassurance I hadn't known I needed.

"You couldn't even have known that he was bothering me from over there, could you?" I marvelled, tilting my head to look at him.

"I've seen men like him before," he replied tersely, a muscle working in his jaw. "And I could see your face."

Before I could properly decipher that cryptic statement, or thank him for the rescue, I realized that the service had started, and I promptly snapped my mouth shut only to open it again and sing along as the hymns began playing. Everyone stood up, a shuffle of feet as conversation fell to a hush, and I lost myself in the music, in the harmony of blending voices around me, all singing for the same purpose: to glorify God. Sneaking a glance at Alexander once in a while, I could see him self-consciously singing along, his gaze fixed upon the screen where the lyrics were being projected. I thought I detected a hint of a blush on his cheeks, but it could simply have been from the warmth of the room.

His arm had fallen from my shoulders, and despite my cap-sleeved dress with its collar covering my clavicle, I felt cold. Steeling myself, I was determined to ignore any body heat or lack thereof and focussed instead on what I had come here to do. Not to concern myself with worldly matters or with the man next to me or with the budding, romantic love between us—but the eternal, unconditional, otherworldly love that came from God.

The singing ended and we took our seats again as the offering bag was passed around, some people slipping in an envelope or two with cheques or cash. I dropped a white envelope in, as did Aaron Steele where he sat on my right. Alexander on my left simply passed the bag to the next row, betraying no hint of chagrin or regret. Perhaps I ought to have told him about the tithing in advance? But no, this was no time to be overanalysing his movements, future husband or not. I shifted away from him, clutching my purse, and opening the clasp with stiff fingers to pull out a notebook and pen as the pastor took his place behind the lectern.

In blue ink, I carefully inscribed the date and the title of the sermon on a fresh page, taking care not to look over to my left. He was too distracting. I was too concerned with him.

I had worried he would be the one not paying attention during church, that he would be the one who didn't care. But it seemed I had problems of my own.

+

I had managed to absorb perhaps three-quarters of the sermon into my mind, which was a quarter less than usual. Silently, I commended myself for it anyways; it was more than I had expected, with the scent of Alexander's skin heady and sharp as it drifted towards me, too close for me to concentrate. We rode in the car to a restaurant, where Abigail, Georgia, and my brother would be meeting us for lunch.

"What did you think of the sermon, son?" Aaron was asking Alexander. I adjusted my seatbelt just to have something to do with my hands so that I could pretend I wasn't dying to hear his answer.

"It was…interesting." What had I expected? An answer in essay format? This was Alexander Steele, after all—the only man more reclusive than I was with emotions.

"Anything particularly interesting about it?" he prodded.

Absentmindedly, I noted that there was a taxicab both behind and in front of our car before pretending to text someone on my phone.

"The fact that Katerina seemed to be not paying attention during several moments of it, was fascinating to me."

I stiffened. Had I heard him right? "Actually, I—"

"I'm joking," he clarified.

Somehow, I had forgotten how to laugh. His father seemed to have the same affliction.

"What? I can make jokes," he defended himself. "Can't I?"

We still looked at him like he was an alien, while the car rolled to a stop.

"Alexander, I'm still having trouble believing that. I believe you'll have to make many more jokes before I can have faith in it. Perhaps some at my brother's expense?" I suggested.

He grinned and helped me out of the car. My heart contracted violently, and we walked into the restaurant together.