Page 144 of Jude

No matter how complicated my arrangement with Jude became, I had a circle of fierce, loyal friends who’d always have my back.

Maggie tried to call me a couple of times, and I blocked her number without hesitating, doing the same thing when Kian’s name flashed on the screen.

I wanted nothing to do with his family for now.

My sole remaining objective was to earn enough by scrubbing grease-stained bays.

I had every intention of paying back every single cent Jude ever spent on me, regardless of whether I eventually decided to sever the final cord with him.

Between my job and the shelter, I went to the library and borrowed books to read in the evenings.

I also began a new weekly ritual: visiting the small Episcopal chapel tucked into the St. Albans Parish grounds, next door to the shelter.

The tiny brick structure was a quiet sanctuary amid the urban chaos.

Its stained-glass windows refracted the afternoon sun into vibrant pools of ruby and sapphire light across the worn oak pews.

A threadbare crimson carpet lined the center aisle.

Its fibers rubbed thin by decades of faithful footsteps, yet the entire room retained an undeniable, elegant beauty that was both ancient and quaint.

They no longer held active corporate worship services there.

However, the wooden doors remained unlocked twenty-four hours a day.

Kept pristine and dust-free by a dedicated local caretaker, he ensured the community always had a clean, safe refuge to escape the noise.

I slipped into the very back row at least once a week to meditate, welcoming how the profound silence settled my thoughts as I worked to reconcile my fractured past with my uncertain future.

JUDE

I became Sofia’s ever-present guardian.

Every single night, I sat across the street from her brick boarding house.

She had a routine.

She drove to work at the depot at 12 a.m. and returned at six in the morning.

I followed her there and back, then I kept my gaze locked on her second-story window until her desk light finally went out at six-thirty.

I only slept when she did, my breath fogging the windshield, my spine cramped along the leather seat.

One night, I saw her struggle to start the ignition of her beat-up Civic.

Damn, the battery must have died.

I pulled up next to her as she trudged toward the bus stop in the dark, lowering the electric pane.

‘Sofia,’ I rumbled. ‘Babe, your car is dead. Get in the car with me. I’m driving you to work.’

She ignored me, marching straight to the bench to wait for the next bus.

The woman was fuckin’ stubborn.

I couldn’t force her into my ride, so I let her be.

I pulled up a few spots in front of the stop, waiting until she got on the bus.