Between Faith and Love

signs?

A few weeks had passed, and March had settled into a rhythm, though it was clear to her aunt and uncle that she had been avoiding church and Bible study for some time. At dinner one evening, the air felt heavier than usual. The usual chatter between her aunt and uncle slowed, and a pause settled over the table as they exchanged glances.

March focused on her plate, hoping the moment would pass unnoticed, but her uncle cleared his throat. “March, we’ve noticed you haven’t been joining us for church or Bible study lately,” he said, his tone gentle but with a hint of concern. “Is everything okay?”

March felt her heart skip, but she forced a casual shrug, not meeting their eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’ve just been really busy with school, that’s all. You know, a lot of assignments and stuff. I’ve been trying to keep up.”

March focused on her plate, hoping the moment would pass unnoticed, but her uncle cleared his throat. “March, we’ve noticed you haven’t been joining us for church or Bible study lately,” he said, his tone gentle but with a hint of concern. “Is everything okay?”

March felt her heart skip, but she forced a casual shrug, not meeting their eyes. “Oh, yeah, I’ve just been really busy with school, that’s all. You know, a lot of assignments and stuff. I’ve been trying to keep up.”

Her aunt, always more sensitive to tone, tilted her head slightly, studying her. “We understand if you’re busy, but it seems like it’s been more than that. We just want to make sure you’re not feeling disconnected. Church has been a big part of this family.”

March could feel their disappointment hanging in the air, though they hadn’t said it outright. She took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. “It’s not that, really. I appreciate everything you both do and the community, but I’m just not that religious. I’m trying to fit in where I can, but sometimes it feels like... I don’t know. Maybe it’s not for me.”

Her uncle’s brow furrowed, and her aunt’s expression softened, though the disappointment in their eyes was unmistakable. “We’re not trying to pressure you, March,” her aunt said gently. “We just want you to feel like part of the family, and church is important to us.”

“I know,” March said quickly, trying to ease the tension. “I really do. I’m just... figuring things out.”

Her uncle nodded, but his face didn’t lose its concern. “Alright. We just want to make sure you’re okay and that you’re not pushing us away. If you ever want to talk about anything, we’re here.”

March offered them a weak smile, grateful that they weren’t pressing the issue harder, but she could still feel the weight of their disappointment. As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. She hadn’t been entirely honest with them, and even though she wasn’t sure about church or faith, the last thing she wanted was to let them down.

Later that night, as the house grew quiet and March drifted off to sleep, her aunt and uncle sat together in their bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over their faces. The air between them was heavy with unspoken concerns, and finally, her uncle broke the silence.

“I’m worried about March,” he said, leaning back against the headboard. “She’s been so distant lately. She’s avoiding church, and I can’t help but feel like something’s off.”

His wife nodded, her fingers idly tracing the pattern on the bedspread. “I’ve noticed it too. She hasn’t been herself. And it’s not just about church. I think she’s struggling with something deeper, but she won’t talk to us about it.”

Her husband sighed. “We’ve given her space, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I want to be there for her, but I don’t want to push her away by being too overbearing.”

A thoughtful silence hung between them for a moment, and then her aunt spoke again, her voice a bit softer, more hesitant. “Have you noticed the way she looks at Zephaniah?”

Her uncle glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

Her aunt hesitated before continuing. “It’s just... I’ve seen the way she glances at Zephaniah during church or when they’re around each other. There’s something there, something more than just friendship. It’s subtle, but... I’ve seen that look before.”

Her uncle’s brow furrowed. “You think it’s more than just them being close?”

“I do,” she admitted, her voice cautious. “It’s not just March, either. Zephaniah looks at her in a way that makes me wonder if there’s more between them. They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, and while that’s not unusual, I can’t help but think there’s something we’re missing.”

He sighed deeply, rubbing his temple. “I didn’t realize... I mean, I knew they were close, but I didn’t think much of it. Do you think that’s why March has been avoiding church? Maybe she’s confused?”

“Maybe,” his wife replied, her voice gentle. “But we can’t know for sure unless she opens up to us. I think we need to be patient, give her the chance to come to us when she’s ready. She’s going through a lot, and if there is something between her and Zephaniah, we need to be careful with how we approach it.”

Her uncle nodded, though the worry was still etched on his face. “You’re right. The last thing I want is to make her feel like she can’t talk to us. But this... it’s complicated.”

His wife reached over and squeezed his hand. “We’ll figure it out. For now, let’s just show her that we’re here for her, no matter what. She needs to know that she’s loved, regardless of whatever she’s going through.”

Her uncle nodded again, a small sense of relief in his eyes. “Yeah. I just hope she knows that.”

As they turned off the light and settled into bed, the weight of their conversation lingered. Though they had their concerns, they both knew that navigating whatever March was going through required more patience and understanding than they had initially realized.

The next day, as the lunch bell rang, the familiar chaos of students flooded the hallways, laughter and chatter echoing off the walls. March was making her way to the cafeteria when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Zephaniah standing there, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, March,” Zephaniah said, her voice laced with worry. “Are you avoiding me or something? I haven’t seen you around much lately.”

March paused for a moment, caught off guard by Zephaniah’s directness. She plastered on a nonchalant smile, though inside, she felt a rush of anxiety. “No, I’m fine! Just busy, you know? Lots of schoolwork and stuff.”

As she spoke, she subtly signaled toward Jehwell, who was walking down the hallway with a few other friends, laughing and joking. March hoped that Zephaniah would take the hint. Just as planned, Jehwell approached them, her eyes bright with energy. “Hey, March! Ready for lunch?”

Zephaniah’s expression shifted from concern to surprise as she realized March was eager to join Jehwell. “Oh, um, okay,” she said softly, a hint of disappointment creeping into her tone. March, sensing the tension, quickly turned to Jehwell, and together they walked away, leaving Zephaniah standing in the hallway.

As they moved further down the hall, March glanced back briefly and caught Zephaniah’s gaze. The gentle smile on Zephaniah’s face masked a swirl of confusion and uncertainty in her eyes, leaving March with a strange sense of guilt as she turned away.

Once out of earshot, March felt a mix of relief and discomfort. She tried to push the moment from her mind, focusing instead on her conversation with Jehwell. But the image of Zephaniah’s expression lingered, stirring an unsettling feeling in her chest. Meanwhile, Zephaniah watched them walk away, her heart racing, unsure of what she was truly feeling.