Abby suspects her husband, John, of having an affair.

They're waiting for the right time to tell the kids they're going to divorce after 21 years of marriage.

But at the family meeting where they plan to tell their children, Nicole shares a surprise of her own: she's getting married, and she wants to have a marriage as happy as her parents’.

How can they spoil her joy with their announcement?

They can pretend a little longer—until after the wedding.

But questions begin to haunt them as the date draws nearer.

What happened to the love and commitment that held them together for so long?

Can their sweet marriage come back?

————————

Abby pulled on a turtleneck and matching sweatshirt and slipped into a pair of jeans. Might as well be comfortable since they were bound to spend most of the day in deep conversation, wiping their children's tears and making shallow promises that somehow everything was going to be all right.

The house was colder than Abby liked, and after she made her way downstairs she rounded the corner and flipped on the heater. At least our home will be warm, even if we can't be that way toward each other.

John glanced up from the skillet and spotted her. "Pancakes are ready."

Abby stared at him and blinked. Didn't this day matter at all? Had it been so easy for him to come home late, sleep through the night, and pop out of bed to make pancakes like everything was fine? "I'm not hungry."

She turned her back to him and wandered into the living room where the meeting would take place in less than an hour. Everything was neat and tidy, but in the morning light she could see a layer of dust on the old photos that sat on the bookshelves— framed pictures from when they were young and just starting out. Abby thought about getting a rag and dusting them, then shook her head. It's fitting that they're covered in dust. Just like our lives.

She closed her eyes for a minute and considered the enormity of the announcement they were about to make. So this is it, huh, God? Dusty photographs, dusty lives. How did we make such a mess of things?

Seek first My kingdom and all these things—

Abby's comeback was quick and rude. We did seek You and look what happened. Immediately she was seized with remorse. I'm sorry. It's not Your fault. She squinted and stared across the room, out the window at the front lawn she and John had landscaped themselves. It seemed like an eternity ago that they'd been able to laugh together, to love each other the way they'd once hoped to spend a lifetime loving. And now . . .

Now their lives were an unmanageable ball of knots too tangled to understand, let alone make right again.

Abby sensed someone else had entered the room and turned around.

"I think we should talk." The corners of John's eyes were lined; maybe he was more concerned than she had thought.

"About what? Haven't we been through it a hundred times with the counselors?" She crossed her arms and chided herself for finding him attractive. After all he'd put her through, all the lies he'd told . . . even now, an hour before their big announcement, she could not force herself to be unmoved by the sight of him.

John sighed and dropped into the nearest chair, anchoring his elbows on his knees as he lowered his head. After several beats he looked up and caught her gaze so powerfully she couldn't have blinked if she wanted to. Do your eyes have to be so blue all the time?

"Look, Abby . . . what I'm saying is . . . are you sure? Are you sure this is what we should do? Are you sure it's the right thing?"

Abby shifted her weight and released a short laugh. "I'm absolutely sure it isn't the right thing. The Bible tells us that much."

John sat perfectly still, his gaze still locked on hers. "Then why, Abby . . . why let it happen?"

She'd always hated the way her eyes stung with the initial onset of tears. This time was no different. "I didn't let anything happen, John, and you know it. We let it happen. And right now—to be perfectly honest—you're letting it happen. You and Miss Meet-You-Friday-Morning-Same-Time-as-Usual."

"What?"

"Don't look surprised, John. You're the one who saves her notes in your sock drawer. Did you forget I'm the one who does your laun—"

"Be quiet." He stopped her midsentence, the connection between them broken as he stared at his feet, shoulders stooped. "The kids are getting ready, and Matt'll be here any minute."

What? Abby felt like she'd been slapped in the face. "Matt? Why's he coming?" This was outrageous! The most difficult announcement they'd ever had to make and now they had to do it in front of a stranger? John must be crazy to have allowed Nicole to—

"Oh, get off your high horse, Abby. Nicole wanted him here for the first part of the meeting. I guess he's got something to ask us. Talk to her if you're so frustrated."

"Stop blaming me for everything." She took a chair opposite him and lowered her voice. Even in this they couldn't get along. "You make it sound like I'm crazy to want just our family here when we tell the kids we're getting a divorce. I mean, seriously, John, why not invite the whole neighborhood? We could sell tickets, pass out popcorn. I don't know, I guess I thought it was kind of a private moment."

"It will be." His voice was a tightly controlled hiss. "We can take a break after Matt talks to us, and he'll be on his way. Nicole said he has a hundred things to do today."

"Then why come to our meeting?"

John forced the air from his lungs and shook his head, chuckling in a way that was completely void of humor. "Don't you ever let up?"

"I know, I'm the bad guy, the relentless one, pushy and demanding. Fine. So be it. But why does he have to come to the meeting?"

"Forget it!" John stood up and glared at her. Gone was the intensity in his eyes, the searching and questioning heart that had moved him to wonder aloud if this decision to dissolve their marriage was really one they should be making. In place of all that was a man with whom Abby was more familiar these days, a man who seemed neither to love her nor care for her feelings. "Ask Nicole."

He turned to leave, and Abby was instantly on her feet. Not that quick, John. You started this conversation. "Wait!"

He spun around, his expression cold as wet cement. "What?"

Don't say it, daughter . . . A kind word turns away anger . . .

Abby narrowed her eyes. "You asked me a question earlier."

John waited, silent.

"You asked me if I was sure if this was the right decision." Fresh tears stung at her eyes, and she blinked them back. There was a tightening in her chest, and she recognized what it was: the walls of her heart were growing higher, harder.

"And . . . ?" John's look had gone from cold to impatient, and she wanted to kick him in the shin. Maybe then he'd share some of the pain she was feeling.

"It's the right thing to do, John." Her voice was measured, barely more than a whisper as she fought for control over her tears. "As long as you're sleeping around behind my back, it's the only thing we can do."

Fire exploded in his eyes, and he clenched his teeth. "I am not sleeping with her, Abby. She's a friend."

"How can you stand there and lie to me?" She gave a shake of her head and glared hard at him. "I mean, you're absolutely amazing. Your sock drawer has a love letter from the woman, and you're trying to tell me she's only a friend? Be real, John. And when the kids ask why, make sure you mention your weakness for sad, lonely women, will you?"

A dozen emotions flashed in John's eyes, and his jaw muscles flexed. But he said nothing, only turned around again and disappeared into the kitchen.

Abby stood there, watching him go, and a strange, sad feeling came over her. In that instant, her hardened, walled-up heart felt like an unbearable burden deep within her. "She's a friend . . . she's a friend . . . she's a friend." John's words beat at her relentlessly until she shut her eyes to make them stop.

He was sleeping with Charlene, wasn't he? He had to be.

Let he who is without guilt cast the first stone . . .

There it was again—that same voice. A piercing pang entered her consciousness, and Abby thought of her e-mail friend, a man she'd been talking with almost daily for the past two years. That's not the same.

Let he who is without guilt cast the first—

No! She shouted silently at the words assaulting her heart. I've never even met the man. Why would God want her to feel guilty now? She needed that friendship. Especially with John devoting all his attention to Charlene.

Daughter, hear Me. Let he who is without—

Abby closed her eyes and forced the words from her mind. Okay, fine. We're both guilty. But it's John's fault, Lord. He's the one who broke faith first.

Abby considered the number of times she'd found out from other sources that John and Charlene were together, and suddenly her mind was filled with the image of the two of them on the football field after the state game. It was amazing the kids hadn't gotten wind of their father's affair.

They had no choice now but to move ahead with the divorce and pray that somehow God—if He still cared enough to listen— would forgive them and help them make new lives without each other.

------

Sean and Kade were already downstairs in the living room, but Nicole was reading her Bible on her bed, feeling as though she might actually float if she tried to stand up. She glanced across the room at her mirror and realized that she had never felt more beautiful. Really and truly, she was a daughter of the King, and He alone had set her apart for this moment in time. It was overwhelming.

She scanned the pages of Jeremiah 29 until she found the verse she wanted, the one she'd lived under and believed since she was a little girl: "For I know the plans I have for you, . . . plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Nicole let her eyes read over the words several times. Never had her future looked brighter than at that moment and it had everything to do with the nature and faithfulness of God Almighty.

Leaving the Bible open to that page, she found the velvet box that had been hiding in her jewelry cupboard. With ease she placed the ring on the appropriate finger and stared at it. Oh, Lord, I'm the happiest girl alive. Folding up the fingers of her left hand so the ring wouldn't be obvious, she danced down the stairs and peeked into the living room where Matt, Kade, and Sean were watching an NFL pregame show. "Where's Mom and Dad?" It was already after nine, and Nicole knew she couldn't wait much longer.

Kade shrugged, his eyes fixed on the television set. "Upstairs, maybe."

"Okay, TV off." Mom and Dad entered the room together, and for a brief moment, Nicole felt a frown crease her forehead. Were Mom and Dad mad at each other? She had the oddest sense that there was something foreign—a tension or a wall or a wedge— something between them. Something big.

Nicole caught herself. She blinked away the image and looked at her parents again. There. Now they looked right. They were smiling and taking their seats next to each other. Must be my imagination. Too much on my mind.

The room was comfortably quiet. She and Matt sat on one sofa, Sean and Kade on the other, and Mom and Dad in chairs beside each other. Dad spoke first.

"Let's get started. You all know how busy football season is around here—especially this last one. And now that things have settled down there are a few things we need to discuss as a family. First, I'd like to—"

"Aren't we going to open in prayer?" Nicole looked from her father to her mother and back again. "We always start our family meetings with prayer, right?"

Nicole watched her mother cast a knowing look at her father, and a twinge of apprehension hit her again. He looked nervous . . . convicted, even. A feeling of fear came over her. I can't believe he actually forgot, Lord . . . Wow, what's going on with them? She shook the worry away. Everything was fine. Her parents were solid. Rock solid. Why imagine a problem where there wasn't one?

"You're right, Nicki." Dad looked at her, and the uneasiness of a moment earlier disappeared. She loved it when her father called her that. He was the only one who did. "Why don't you pray, honey?"

She shrugged and glanced at the faces around her. "Sure." She bowed her head and focused hard on the Lord, on His goodness and kindness, on the plans He was bringing to fruition in her life. "Father, we come before You as one, one unit, one family, determined that our ways and plans and decisions will be only those that You have planned for us. Bless this time of communication and let it bring us closer as a family, closer to You and to each other. Thank You, Lord. In Jesus' name, amen."

There was a pause, and Nicole couldn't fight off the sense of something fearful and foreboding in the air. Come on, Dad, say something funny like you usually do. This is getting weird here.

Her father cleared his throat and looked in her direction. "Matt, we'll start with you. That way you can get on with your day and leave us here to finish up."

Matt nodded and squeezed Nicole's hand, the one with the engagement ring on it.

"Well—" he looked at her, and she knew she would never forget the way his eyes sparkled—"actually Nicole and I both have something to tell you."

Nicole took in her mother's reaction, noting how her eyes changed from cool tension to wide-eyed disbelief. Her father still looked clueless, but that was typical.

Nicole drew a deep breath and looked expectantly at Matt. "Do you want to tell them?"

"Come on, guys . . . the suspense is killing us." Dad crossed one leg over his knee and settled back against his chair, his smile forced and stiff. Why does he look nervous? Or does he? Nicole couldn't get around her pesky suspicion that something wasn't right. I'll find out later. Right now there's something more important to discuss.

Matt grinned and then faced her family. "Okay, this is it—" he gently lifted Nicole's hand so that everyone could see her ring— "I've asked Nicole to marry me."

Nicole wrapped her other hand around Matt's neck and gave him a quick hug. Without turning toward her family she spoke, her eyes locked onto Matt's. "And I told him yes."

She whipped around and saw that her parents were stunned, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide.