The Girl of Fire and Thorns

I imagine what it would feel like to have that spear crush its way into my back.

“Everyone has doubts,” he whispers. “Pray through them. God will show you what to do when the time comes.”

My soul glorifies God; let it rejoice in my Savior
For he has been mindful of his humble servant
Blessed am I among generations
For he lifted me from the dying world
Yea, with his righteous right hand he lifted me
He has redeemed his people, given them new life abundant
My soul glorifies God; let it rejoice in my Savior.

Has not God chosen those who are pained in this world to inherit his paradise? For it is through suffering we understand our need for his righteous right hand. Indeed, our spiritual needs outweigh our physical ones. Blessed be the name of God.”

And dark skinned and fat.” I feel the cold edges and aching hardness of my jaw. “And grief overcame her, and she breathed her last.”

But the most frightening thing of all is I am about to be someone’s wife.

My mouth freezes, midchew, as I realize that he probably did.
I am the counteroffer.

“Don’t be so cold, Elisa. Don’t be like me.”
I stumble back. “But . . . it helps.”
She shakes her head. “No. You think it does, but it doesn’t.

He gifts me with that easy smile of his, so familiar now, and so dear. Something unfurls inside of me, like a blooming sacrament rose. And I realize I love him.
“What?” he whispers. “What is it?”
My heart is so full it aches. “I’ll tell you later!”

“It’s easier,” I say. “With you here.”
He says nothing, just studies my eyes, my lips, my neck. With the buzzing crowd so thick around us, it’s almost like being alone. “Elisa,” he murmurs. The soft pad of his thumb brushes my shoulder. “I think there is a way.”
“What do you mean?” I could stand here forever with him.
“You said if there were a way to be free of him”—his thumb skims my collarbone