Page 63 of Love Unscripted
He thought for a moment, then said, “In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies… For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it…That’s in Ephesians.” He picked up his phone and did a search. “Specifically chapter 5 verses 28 to 29.” He handed the phoneto her. As she read he said, “This verse is often understood to include material provision as part of a husband’s duty to nourish and care for his wife.”
Camille tilted her head, considering him. “Provision doesn’t have to be exclusive to the man, though. The Proverbs 31woman works, trades, invests. She’s hardly passive.”
Aaron nodded. “Agreed. Scripture never condemns a woman for working. But noticewhyshe works—for the good of her household. Her labor complements her husband’s calling; it doesn’t replace it.”
Camille leaned back in her chair. “So you believe in male headship.”
“Absolutely. Scripture makes it clear that while it’s a right it’s also a serious responsibility. Men have to answer to God for how they lead,” Aaron replied evenly. “Headship means accountability. If a home falters, Scripture doesn’t point first to the wife—it looks to the husband.”
She studied him for a moment. “You sound very sure.”
“I am,” he said quietly. “Because Christ doesn’t lead the church by asking her to sacrifice first. He bears the weight Himself. Do you understand?”
He felt that it was important that she understood. It sounded like Camille had come from a very liberal background. She, no doubt, was a victim of societal norms even though she had become saved. He wanted to help her see everything in light of scripture. Not as the world saw it but as scripture saw it.
Eventually, she nodded.
“I understand. God has ordained men to be the heads, to lead. It’s not a competition. It’s hierarchy. So Scarlette saw it that way?”
“She did.”
“What did she do after she left cheerleading?”
“She turned to apparel design. She designed uniforms and sportswear having firsthand experience with what is functional for athletes.”
They married soon after she had launched her career. After Madison was born, Scarlette continued her business but hired people so that she could devote herself to her family as well. And she never missed a game. She was always there—his own personal cheerleader.
Life was perfect. And then it shattered.
Driving home late from a game, Scarlette and Madison were struck by a truck. It was suspected that Scarlette may have fallen asleep at the wheel. Madison survived with barely a scratch. Scarlette—three months pregnant—did not.
Grief hollowed him out. He blamed himself. He blamed the game. He blamed God.
He walked away from it all. The game and God.
He shared all of this quietly with Camille—the first time he’d spoken of it to anyone outside his family.
Her eyes were suspiciously moist when he was finished.
When she slipped her hand into his, he didn’t resist.
Her fingers were warm, light at first, as if offering rather than claiming. Aaron closed his hand around hers, firm and certain, grounding himself in the contact. Their palms fit together with an intimacy that startled them both. He squeezed, then lifted his gaze to meet hers.
Something electric passed between them—grief braided with longing, compassion deepening into awareness.
Words weren’t necessary. She understood.
“Is that why you started acting?” she finally asked softly.
Her thumb brushed his knuckle as she spoke, an unconscious motion that sent a slow, unexpected heat up his arm.
He gave a self-conscious laugh. “When Hollywood first came calling, I refused. The first script was about a widowed footballplayer holding his team—and his life—together. The irony was too cruel. But then another one came along. A retired assassin dragged back into violence after his wife is killed.” He exhaled.
“That was the movieJohn Gray?”
“Yes. You’re familiar?”
“I was a fan of that movie,” Camille admitted with a small smile.
