All That Really Matters, Nicole Deese [best detective novels of all time .TXT] 📗

offered me his hand, and pulled me up from the floor. “And I want to be a part of this.”

I immediately wrapped my arms around him and pressed my cheek to his chest. I’d been wrong. It wasn’t Silas’s office that provided the much-needed respite I’d come to count on in the last couple months.

It was Silas.

After taking a few moments to compose my thoughts and send up a silent prayer, asking God for strength and direction, I finger combed my cropped hair one last time, took a deep breath, and then nodded at Silas. With my phone in his right hand, he nodded back and then pointed at me as if he’d done this a thousand times before. A role reversal if there ever was one, as I felt like this was my first time ever on camera.

In a way, I supposed it was.

“Hello, friends. It’s me, Molly, with Makeup Matters with Molly.” I smiled, twisting my hands in my lap as I watched the tiny notification bubbles float across the screen in Silas’s grip. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve done a live on any of my platforms, but . . . ” I swallowed, watching several comments and emojis slip up from the bottom of the screen, all mentioning my hair with exclamations. But I couldn’t stop to reply to any of them. Instead, I focused my gaze near the top of the display, catching Silas’s steady and reassuring gaze. “But I wanted to hop on tonight and say hello.” Only, that wasn’t exactly true. “Actually, I’d like to say a bit more than a hello. A tough habit to break for someone who’s on camera often is the desire to want to polish up every word and make it sound as pretty as possible . . . but I’m realizing that some words are just meant to be spoken raw. And that’s what tonight’s video will be. A raw, unfiltered, unedited version of me, just Molly.”

I chuckled a bit and glanced down at my hands, working to rein in my thoughts. “In the three years I’ve been recording and posting these videos, this is the first time I’ve done it without a plan or a script or a product to discuss.” I tucked a short piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not totally sure who this might be for tonight, but whether you’ve been following me for one or all two-hundred-plus videos, I want you to know that the Molly you’ve subscribed to on Makeup Matters is not nearly as authentic as she’s led you to believe.” I released a deep breath. “Or even as she led herself to believe.

“Though I’ve loved the fashion and makeup world since I was a teenager, and though I’ve had every intention of becoming a positive and honest voice in the beauty industry, there’s been something missing for a while. A lot of somethings, actually.” I pointed to the screen, at the image reflected there of this new self with the short hair and the natural face. “Over the last couple months, as I’ve worked with some pretty outstanding people at a transitional home to equip young adults for the future . . . I’ve learned a lot of hard lessons. Most of those lessons have cumulated into a complete rewrite of the old narratives I’ve believed about myself, my worth, and where my hope for the future comes from. I’ve had to face the truth about the ways I’ve isolated myself from the real world and from the real people who are in it.” My heart pounded in my chest as I implored viewers on the other side of that phone screen.

“But what I want you to see, to know, and to hear tonight is that no matter how much you strive to make over the outside with the products I’ve endorsed, none of them holds the power to make over what’s on the inside. And I’m realizing more and more just how much I’ve neglected the most vital parts of who I am, of who I’m meant to be. When I’m focused inward, I miss out on divine opportunities to bless others—to serve, to help, to protect, to befriend. To love beyond my own capacity and capability.” I laid a hand to my chest, glancing for half a second to Silas’s face. “This heart makeover is still a work in progress.” I closed my mouth, rubbed my lips together. “But in the end, the condition of our heart is all that really matters. I pray that the same grace that’s been extended to me as I’ve begun this heart work will be extended to you, as well. Until next time, good night and God bless.”

I reached forward and tapped the screen to stop the video, and Silas placed the phone on the side table, his eyes a bit glassier than they were at the start. As were mine.

“A heart makeover,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said. “It was the only way I knew to describe it.”

“It was the perfect way to describe it.”

Though we were sitting three feet away from each other, his words were an embrace so real my lungs fought to take in a full breath. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, Silas. I’m . . .” My throat closed around another swell of emotion. “I don’t deserve someone like you.”

“I was thinking the same about you.”

No matter what came of this raw livestream tonight, I wouldn’t second-guess it. Instead, I would fall asleep knowing that I took the next right step in a journey I was only just beginning. And tomorrow, I would take even more.

Starting with a long overdue phone call to a friend I wasn’t willing to lose.

33

Molly

My alarm sounded different this morning. Not the usual crescendo of violins and piano, but a ringtone I hadn’t heard in quite some time. Too long. I fumbled for my phone, glanced at the screen, and then shot straight up in bed, hastily brushing at the hair poking into my