Chapter Two - Josiah: After I Said I Do
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Josiah had smiled so much his face was beginning to hurt.
He had expected that part.
The photographs. The handshakes. The hugs from relatives who held on a little too long. The church mothers who kissed his cheek and told him they had been praying for this day since he was a teenager.
What he hadn’t expected was how strange it would feel to hear people call Maya his wife.
“Take care of your wife now.”
“Where’s your wife?”
“Go get your wife for this picture.”
His wife.
Every time someone said it, his mind seemed to pause for half a second.
Then he’d look at Maya and remember.
Right.
He was married.
Josiah glanced across the reception hall and found her standing beside her mother near the head table.
Mrs. Brooks was adjusting something on the back of Maya’s dress while Maya stood patiently, nodding along to whatever her younger sister was saying.
Even from across the room, he could tell Sara was doing most of the talking.
He smiled.
He didn’t know his wife’s family well yet, but he was beginning to suspect silence wasn’t something Sara Brooks practiced often.
“Enjoying married life?”
Josiah turned.
His younger brother stood beside him holding two glasses of water, one extended in his direction.
“It’s been forty-five minutes, Brandon.”
“Long enough to have an opinion.”
Josiah took the glass.
“Ask me again in forty-five years.”
Brandon laughed.
“There he is.”
“What?”
“I was wondering when you’d stop looking like you’re about to preach a funeral.”
Josiah stared at him.
“I did not look like that.”
“At the altar?”
“I was nervous.”
“You looked terrified.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Josiah took a drink, fighting a smile.
At twenty-two, Brandon had somehow mastered the art of saying things no one else in the family would dare say to him.
Maybe because he was his little brother.
Maybe because Josiah had never given him much reason to be intimidated.
Or maybe Brandon simply didn’t care.
Probably the last one.
“You good, though?” Brandon asked.
The teasing had disappeared from his voice.
Josiah looked at him.
“Yeah.”
Brandon waited.
Josiah knew that look.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Brandon shrugged and took a drink.
Josiah looked back toward Maya.
She was laughing now.
Whatever Sara had said had apparently been funny enough to make their mother laugh too.
Something about seeing Maya with them eased him.
He had spent weeks praying about this marriage.
Praying before agreeing to it.
Praying after agreeing to it.
Praying when he woke up.
Praying before bed.
Praying during drives when the silence gave him too much room to think.
He had asked God every version of the same question he knew how to ask.
Are You sure?
The answer had never changed.
And Josiah had learned long ago that peace didn’t always mean understanding.
Sometimes it simply meant knowing Who had spoken.
“I’m good,” he finally said.
Brandon nodded.
This time, he seemed to accept it.
Before either of them could say anything else, a familiar voice carried over the room.
“There he is.”
Josiah turned just as one of the senior deacons from his father’s church approached them.
Deacon Harris had known him since he was a child.
Long enough to remember the years when Josiah had fallen asleep on the second pew during evening service and had to be carried to the car.
The older man pulled him into a hug.
“Congratulations, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Deacon Harris stepped back and looked him over with unmistakable pride.
“Look at you. Married man now.”
Josiah smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Your father must be proud.”
“He is.”
“And he should be.”
The deacon’s hand landed firmly on Josiah’s shoulder.
“Beautiful wife. Serving the Lord. Standing beside your father in ministry.” He smiled. “Everything falling into place.”
Josiah’s fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
He knew what was coming before the man said it.
“Won’t be long before we’re calling you Pastor Walker.”
Brandon’s eyes shifted toward him.
Josiah kept smiling.
There were two Pastor Walkers in the room already.
His father.
And the future version of himself everyone seemed to have met before he did.
“I’m just trying to serve wherever God has me right now,” Josiah said.
Deacon Harris laughed.
“That’s exactly why you’ll make a good pastor.”
Josiah’s smile remained.
Of course.
Even his attempts to avoid the expectation somehow became evidence that he was prepared for it.
“You’ve got it in you,” Deacon Harris continued. “Been watching you since you were a boy. Your father’s built something special. It’ll be good knowing it’ll stay in the family one day.”
Josiah pulled absently at one of his fingers.
Once.
Then stopped himself.
“Whatever God wants,” he said.
“That’s right.”
Deacon Harris patted his shoulder before turning toward Brandon.
“And you keep helping your brother.”
Brandon smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
The older man moved on toward another table.
Josiah took a slow drink of water.
Brandon said nothing.
Which somehow made it worse.
“Don’t.”
Brandon frowned. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Actually, I was thinking you should stop carrying things God didn’t give you.”
Josiah looked at him.
Brandon took another drink as if he hadn’t just said something that landed far heavier than his tone suggested.
“Everybody has a plan for you,” he continued. “Dad. Deacon Harris. Half the church.”
“And you don’t?”
Brandon shrugged.
“I figured God’s pretty good at making His own.”
Josiah stared at him for a moment.
“When did you get wise?”
“I’ve always been wise. You’ve just been too busy being the responsible older brother to notice.”
Josiah laughed under his breath.
“There he is.”
Brandon smiled, but his voice softened when he spoke again.
“Seriously, though. You don’t have to figure out your whole life because everybody else thinks they already have.”
Josiah looked down at the ring on his hand.
“Feels like I should have at least some of it figured out by now.”
“Why?”
Josiah glanced at him.
Brandon nodded toward Maya across the room.
“You knew enough to obey God today.”
Josiah followed his gaze.
“Maybe that’s enough for today,” Brandon added.
For a moment, Josiah didn’t answer.
Then he nodded.
“Maybe.”
His gaze drifted toward the other side of the reception hall.
A cluster of teenagers had claimed a table near the back, laughing loud enough to earn occasional looks from the adults around them.
Josiah recognized two of them immediately.
Malik and Andre.
Both came to The Bridge after school three or four days a week.
The center had started seven years ago with one rented gym, a handful of volunteers, and more faith than funding. Now, on any given afternoon, the building filled with children doing homework, teenagers playing basketball, tutors moving between tables, and staff members trying to convince somebody that chips did not count as dinner.
Josiah had built his career there.
Programs. Camps. Community events. Mentoring.
Somewhere along the way, he’d become the person parents called when their son was slipping in school or their daughter needed somewhere safe to spend the afternoon.
He loved it.
He just never thought much about why.
Malik spotted him.
“Mr. Walker!”
Several heads turned.
Josiah laughed as the teenager approached.
“You clean up pretty good.”
“It’s my wedding. I figured sweatpants might’ve been frowned upon.”
Andre joined them, grinning.
“Wait. You married Sister Maya?”
Josiah glanced across the room toward Maya.
“Apparently.”
“Man, that’s crazy.”
Josiah raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for that touching congratulations.”
Malik laughed.
“Nah, I’m saying I didn’t know you knew her.”
“I didn’t know you went to church here.”
“Been here forever.”
Josiah looked around the room again.
Now that he was paying attention, he noticed just how many teenagers were there.
Not two or three scattered among their families.
Dozens.
Some he recognized from The Bridge.
Others he didn’t.
“There’s a lot of y’all,” Josiah said.
Andre laughed. “That’s not even everybody.”
Something about that stayed with Josiah.
He wasn’t sure why.
“I’ll see y’all Monday,” Josiah said.
“You coming in Monday?” Malik asked.
Josiah frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Both boys looked at him.
Then Andre glanced pointedly at Maya.
“Because you just got married?”
Josiah followed his gaze.
Right.
His wife.
“That’s actually a good point.”
Malik shook his head. “Mr. Walker was about to come to work two days after his wedding.”
“Don’t tell anybody that.”
“I’m telling everybody.”
Josiah laughed as the boys walked away.
“Enjoy your honeymoon, Mr. Walker!”
“Go sit down somewhere.”
Still smiling, Josiah turned.
Maya was watching him.
Not strangely.
Just curiously.
He walked toward her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t a nothing look.”
“I didn’t know you knew Malik and Andre.”
“They come to The Bridge.”
“Oh.”
She glanced toward the boys, then back at him.
“That’s the community center you own, right?”
Josiah nodded. “Yeah.”
“My dad has mentioned it before.”
That didn’t surprise him. Pastor Brooks seemed to know about nearly everything happening in the community.
“They’re there almost every day,” Josiah said. “Mostly for basketball, despite my continued attempts to convince them there’s an academic portion of the building.”
Maya laughed.
“Good luck with that.”
“Thank you. I need prayer.”
She smiled, but her gaze wandered toward the boys again.
“They really like you.”
Josiah shrugged.
“I’ve known them a while.”
To him, that explained it.
Maya seemed like she might say something else.
Instead, she smiled.
“Apparently they do.”
Josiah studied her for a moment.
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“You looked surprised.”
Maya tilted her head. “I’ve known you for less than two hours as my husband. I’m allowed to discover things.”
“Fair.”
“Besides, you already know more about me than I know about you.”
Josiah frowned. “Do I?”
“You know what I do. You know I lead worship. You know my family.”
“I know of your family.”
“You know Sara talks too much.”
Josiah glanced toward her sister.
“I learned that today.”
Maya laughed.
“See? You’re already ahead.”
“All right.” He nodded. “What do you want to know?”
Her eyebrows lifted.
Josiah immediately realized how broad that question was.
“Within reason.”
“Oh, now there are restrictions?”
“Absolutely. We’ve only been married a couple of hours.”
“And you’re already putting restrictions on me?”
“See? We’re making progress.”
Maya smiled.
Before she could answer, the microphone crackled from the front of the room.
“If I could have everyone’s attention…”
Josiah looked toward the dance floor.
Then back at Maya.
Her smile disappeared.
He narrowed his eyes.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t a nothing look.”
“You already used that.”
“And it worked.”
The coordinator smiled from beside the DJ.
“We’d like to invite our newlyweds to the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.”
Applause erupted around them.
Maya stared at the dance floor.
Then her fingers tightened around his.
Josiah felt it immediately.
The signal.
He looked down at their joined hands before meeting her eyes.
“Too much?”
“There are a lot of people looking at us.”
Josiah glanced around the room.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Want me to fake an injury?”
Maya looked at him.
“At our wedding?”
“I’m willing to take one for the team.”
Her lips twitched.
“I’ll survive.”
“You sure?”
She squeezed his hand again.
“Ask me when everybody stops staring.”
“So tomorrow?”
A laugh escaped her.
“Probably.”
Josiah smiled and offered his other hand.
“Come on, Mrs. Walker.”
Maya stopped.
Josiah stopped with her.
“What?”
She blinked.
“You just called me Mrs. Walker.”
“I did.”
“That’s me.”
Josiah’s mouth twitched. “Generally how marriage works.”
She gave him a look.
“I know how marriage works.”
“Just checking.”
Maya shook her head, but she was smiling now.
“It’s going to take me a minute to get used to that.”
“You and me both.”
“You’re already a Walker.”
“Yeah, but I’ve never been married to one.”
Maya laughed.
“Come on,” he said, giving her hand a gentle tug. “Before they start wondering why we’re having our first argument.”
“This is not an argument.”
“Good. I’d hate to ruin our record this early.”
Still smiling, Maya followed him toward the dance floor.
The first few notes of the song began to play.
Josiah stopped near the center of the floor and turned toward her.
For the first time all day, he had absolutely no idea what to do with his hands.
Maya seemed to be having the same problem.
They stared at each other.
“This feels like something we should’ve practiced,” she whispered.
“Probably.”
“You didn’t think of that?”
“I was busy preparing for the marriage.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“The actual wedding slipped through the cracks.”
A laugh escaped her.
Around them, someone cheered.
Josiah glanced toward the tables.
“Apparently they think we’re doing great.”
“We haven’t moved.”
“Set the bar low. That’s the secret.”
Maya shook her head.
Josiah smiled and held out his hand.
She took it.
His other hand settled carefully at her waist, and hers rested against his shoulder.
Then they moved.
Or attempted to.
Maya stepped on his shoe.
Her eyes widened.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“I stepped on you.”
“I noticed.”
“Josiah.”
“I still have feeling in all ten toes.”
She tried not to laugh.
He could tell because her lips pressed together.
“Go ahead.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“You want to.”
“I really don’t.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
That did it.
Maya laughed, and some of the tension left her shoulders.
Josiah found himself smiling with her.
They settled into something resembling a rhythm.
Nothing impressive.
Nothing anyone would remember.
But they were moving.
“That’s better,” he said.
“Because I stopped stepping on you?”
“That helped.”
Maya gave him a look.
Josiah laughed.
For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
The room seemed different from the center of it.
Too many faces.
Too many phones.
Too many people watching two people who were still learning how to stand beside each other without wondering what they were supposed to do next.
Maya’s gaze drifted over his shoulder.
Her fingers shifted slightly against his.
Josiah noticed.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking like you want to disappear.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“I’m dancing in front of an entire room full of people.”
“You lead worship in front of an entire room full of people.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I’m not thinking about them when I’m worshiping.”
Josiah considered that.
“Who are you thinking about?”
Her eyes came back to his.
“God.”
The answer came so quickly that he knew she hadn’t needed to think about it.
Something about that made him smile.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t a nothing smile.”
“You already stole my line once.”
“I’m your wife. I can do that now.”
Josiah laughed under his breath.
“Apparently marriage has a lot of rules nobody warned me about.”
“You should’ve done more research.”
“I prayed.”
The words left his mouth lightly.
But something in Maya’s expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for him to notice.
“So did I,” she said.
Josiah looked at her.
The room continued around them.
Music.
Conversation.
The occasional camera flash.
But for a moment, he barely noticed any of it.
He had known she agreed to the marriage.
Obviously.
He knew neither of their fathers had forced them.
He knew Pastor Brooks had spoken to her before anything moved forward.
But he had never asked what the days between hearing about him and saying yes had looked like for her.
He had been so consumed with making sure he had heard God correctly that he hadn’t thought much about what it had taken for Maya to reach the same altar.
“Were you scared?” he asked.
Maya looked at him.
“Today?”
“Before.”
She was quiet for a moment.
“Yes.”
Josiah nodded.
“Me too.”
“You didn’t look scared when we met.”
“I’ve had years of practice looking like I know what I’m doing.”
Maya smiled.
“That explains a lot.”
“I’m choosing not to be offended.”
“Good.”
They moved slowly with the music.
“Did you ever almost say no?” Maya asked.
Josiah thought about it.
“No.”
Her eyebrows rose.
“Really?”
“I thought about whether I should say no.”
“That sounds like the same thing.”
“It isn’t.”
“How?”
Josiah looked past her for a moment.
He wasn’t sure how to explain it without making it sound more complicated than it had been.
“I didn’t want fear making the decision for me.”
Maya’s expression softened.
“So I kept praying,” he continued. “If God told me no, I would’ve said no.”
“And if He said yes?”
Josiah looked at her.
“Well.”
His hand shifted slightly at her waist.
“We’re dancing.”
Maya smiled.
He did too.
The song continued.
Josiah had no idea what marriage to Maya would look like tomorrow.
There were more things he didn’t know than things he did.
But he knew why he was there.
For tonight, that was enough.
By the time the song ended, Maya had only stepped on him twice.
Josiah considered that a successful beginning.
Applause filled the room as they separated.
Maya leaned toward him.
“Don’t tell anyone I stepped on you.”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“What do I get for my silence?”
Her mouth fell open.
“Are you blackmailing me at our wedding?”
“I prefer negotiation.”
“You’re a minister.”
“Associate minister.”
“That does not make it better.”
Josiah grinned.
Before Maya could respond, Sara appeared beside them.
“There you are.”
Maya stared at her.
“We’ve been in the middle of the dance floor.”
“I know. I need you.”
“For what?”
“Pictures.”
“We already took pictures.”
“More pictures.”
Maya closed her eyes.
Josiah laughed.
“Good luck.”
Her eyes opened immediately.
“Oh, no.”
He stopped.
“You’re coming.”
“Sara said she needs you.”
“You’re my husband.”
Josiah blinked.
Maya blinked too.
Apparently neither of them had expected her to say it.
Sara looked between them.
Then smiled slowly.
Maya pointed at her.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was just thinking how adorable—”
“Sara.”
“Fine.”
Josiah fought a smile.
Maya looked at him.
“You’re still coming.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Yes, Mrs. Walker.”
She stared at him.
Josiah walked toward the photographer before she could respond.
He heard Sara laugh behind him.
The rest of the reception passed in a blur.
More photographs.
More congratulations.
Cake.
A speech from Sara that somehow managed to be both touching and unnecessarily detailed.
Another from Brandon that Josiah had spent most of the evening dreading, only for his brother to keep it surprisingly respectable.
Mostly.
There had been one story involving a twelve-year-old Josiah, a choir robe, and a locked church bathroom that he planned to address later.
Much later.
Eventually, people began leaving.
The music softened.
Tables emptied.
The room that had felt impossibly full earlier that evening slowly began to breathe again.
Josiah stood near the entrance with Maya, thanking the last few guests as they passed.
His cheeks hurt again.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Maya nodded.
“Tired.”
“Same.”
“My feet hurt.”
“I offered the injury option earlier. You turned it down.”
She looked at him.
“That was for you.”
“I would’ve shared.”
“How generous.”
Pastor Brooks approached them before Josiah could answer.
“There are my newlyweds.”
Maya smiled.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Her father kissed her forehead.
“You two ready to get out of here?”
“Yes,” Maya answered immediately.
Josiah laughed.
Pastor Brooks smiled.
“I figured.”
He looked at Josiah.
“Everything’s taken care of. You don’t need to worry about anything here. We’ll make sure the gifts get where they need to go.”
“I can help before we leave.”
“No.”
Josiah opened his mouth.
Pastor Brooks shook his head.
“Absolutely not. Go.”
Maya looked at Josiah.
“Please don’t volunteer us for cleanup on our wedding night.”
“I was volunteering me.”
“We are a unit now.”
Josiah paused.
Pastor Brooks laughed.
“She’s got you there.”
Josiah looked at Maya.
“Is that how this works?”
“I decided five seconds ago.”
“Good to know.”
Pastor Brooks smiled, but his expression softened as he looked at them.
Then his attention settled on Josiah.
“Take care of her.”
The words were familiar.
Josiah had heard them all day.
From relatives.
Church members.
People who meant well.
Take care of your wife.
But coming from Maya’s father, they felt different.
Pastor Brooks wasn’t smiling now.
Not because he was angry.
Because he meant it.
Josiah looked at Maya.
She was still standing beside him, but her attention had shifted across the room toward her mother.
Take care of her.
It sounded simple.
It wasn’t.
“I will,” Josiah said.
Pastor Brooks held his gaze for another moment before nodding.
Josiah expected him to leave.
Instead, the older man stepped closer.
“And don’t think that means you have to know everything.”
Josiah frowned slightly.
Pastor Brooks smiled.
“I know that look.”
“What look?”
“The one men get when they realize somebody expects them to lead something.”
Josiah stared at him.
Pastor Brooks chuckled.
“I’ve been married thirty-four years, son. You think I haven’t worn it?”
Maya glanced back at them.
“What are y’all talking about?”
“Nothing,” her father said.
Maya narrowed her eyes.
Josiah almost laughed.
Apparently that look ran in the family.
Pastor Brooks squeezed his shoulder.
“You’ll be fine.”
Then he walked toward his wife.
Josiah watched him go.
“You look confused,” Maya said.
“I think your father just gave me advice without actually giving me advice.”
“He does that.”
“Frequently?”
“Constantly.”
Josiah nodded.
“I’ll prepare myself.”
Maya smiled.
A few minutes later, they finally left.
Outside, the night air felt cooler than Josiah expected.
And quieter.
Much quieter.
The doors closed behind them, muffling the music and voices from inside.
For the first time since that morning, no one was asking them to smile.
No one was calling for a picture.
No one was handing them a microphone or directing them somewhere.
It was just the two of them.
Josiah looked at Maya.
Maya looked at him.
Neither moved.
“Well,” she said.
“Well.”
“We’re married.”
“So I’ve heard.”
She laughed softly.
Then silence settled between them again.
Not uncomfortable exactly.
Just new.
Josiah glanced toward the car waiting for them.
“You ready?”
Maya nodded.
Then stopped.
“Actually…”
Josiah waited.
She looked back at the building.
“My mom usually calls me when she gets home from big events.”
“Okay.”
“And Sara is probably going to text me seventeen times before we make it out of the parking lot.”
“Probably.”
“And my dad is going to pretend he’s fine.”
Josiah smiled.
“Probably.”
Maya looked down.
“This is weird.”
He understood immediately.
Not the wedding.
The leaving.
For thirty years, Maya Brooks had belonged to a family that existed long before he walked into it.
Now everyone had spent an entire day celebrating the fact that she was leaving with him.
Josiah looked toward the building again.
“You want another minute?”
Maya looked at him.
“We don’t have to leave yet.”
“They’re waiting on us.”
“They can wait.”
She studied him.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Josiah gestured toward a bench near the entrance.
“Sit down before your feet file a complaint.”
Maya laughed.
They sat.
For a while, neither said anything.
Josiah didn’t try to fill the silence.
He didn’t tell her she shouldn’t be emotional.
Didn’t remind her that she’d see her family again.
Didn’t tell her this was what marriage meant.
He simply sat beside her.
Eventually, Maya leaned back and exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“For sitting?”
“For not making that weird.”
“I wasn’t aware I had that kind of power.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Josiah smiled.
She looked toward him.
“You don’t have to keep asking me if I’m okay, you know.”
“I know.”
“You’ve done it all day.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Josiah thought about the question.
“Because I don’t know you yet.”
Maya blinked.
He continued before she could misunderstand him.
“I know things about you. That’s different.”
She was quiet.
“I don’t want to assume I know what you need just because I’m your husband.”
Something in her expression shifted.
Josiah couldn’t quite read it.
“That makes sense,” she said.
He nodded.
Then, after a moment, Maya smiled.
“I’m ready now.”
Josiah stood.
“Good. Because I’m pretty sure your sister is watching us through the window.”
Maya turned.
Sara ducked.
“Oh my gosh.”
Josiah laughed.
“I told you.”
“Drive.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Josiah.”
He was still laughing when he opened the car door for her.
By the time the hotel room door closed behind them, Josiah had learned three things.
Maya took approximately six minutes to remove what appeared to be several hundred pins from her hair.
She talked to herself when she couldn’t find something.
And there was no graceful way for two people who barely knew each other to enter a hotel room on their wedding night.
Josiah set his overnight bag near the dresser.
Maya stood near the bed.
He stood near the door.
They looked at each other.
“This is awkward,” Maya said.
“Thank God.”
Her eyebrows rose.
Josiah rubbed a hand over his face.
“I thought I was the only one.”
She laughed.
“No.”
“Good.”
“That doesn’t make it less awkward.”
“No, but now it’s a shared problem.”
Maya smiled.
Then she glanced toward the bathroom.
“I’m going to change.”
“Okay.”
She took her bag and disappeared behind the door.
The lock clicked.
Josiah stood alone.
The room went quiet.
Completely quiet.
He looked around.
One bed.
Of course.
He hadn’t thought about that.
Which seemed ridiculous considering the circumstances.
He pulled at one of his fingers.
Once.
Then again.
He stopped.
This was his wife.
There was nothing wrong with sharing a bed with his wife.
He knew that.
That wasn’t the problem.
The problem was that knowing what marriage allowed didn’t tell him what Maya was ready for.
And for the first time all day, there was no coordinator.
No father.
No brother.
No deacon.
No one telling him what came next.
Just him.
And Maya.
Josiah sat on the edge of the chair near the window.
Take care of her.
He could still hear Pastor Brooks saying it.
He thought about every sermon he’d ever heard about husbands.
Every conversation with his father.
Every older man who had told him that one day, when he had a family of his own, it would be his responsibility to lead it.
He had always understood the idea.
It sounded different now.
He wasn’t leading an idea.
He was married to a person.
A woman with her own relationship with God. Her own fears. Her own opinions. Her own way of doing things.
And somehow, he felt as though he should already know how to lead a marriage that had existed for less than a day.
Josiah lowered his head.
God, help me.
He sat there for a moment.
Then almost laughed.
After weeks of long prayers, careful prayers, specific prayers, that was all he had now.
Help me.
His gaze dropped to the ring on his hand.
He had spent weeks asking God whether he should marry Maya.
But somewhere in all that praying, he’d been so focused on the decision that he hadn’t spent nearly as much time thinking about what came after the yes.
He was thinking about it now.
Teach me how to be her husband.
Josiah closed his eyes.
Don’t let me lead her somewhere You aren’t leading me.
His throat tightened.
People had been telling him where he was headed for most of his life.
Pastor.
Leader.
His father’s successor.
Today they’d added another title.
Husband.
But titles didn’t tell him what God was saying.
And if he was going to ask Maya to trust his leadership, then his first responsibility wasn’t making sure she followed him.
It was making sure he followed God.
The bathroom door opened.
Josiah lifted his head.
Maya stepped out wearing a long pajama set, her hair wrapped, all traces of the elaborate bridal style gone.
She stopped when she saw him sitting there.
“You okay?”
Josiah smiled.
Funny.
She’d asked him this time.
“Yeah.”
Maya looked at him for another second.
Then nodded.
“Bathroom’s yours.”
“Thanks.”
She moved toward the bed.
Josiah stood.
Then stopped.
“Maya?”
She looked at him.
He almost told her.
About the prayer.
About the weight of her father’s words.
About how seriously he was taking something he didn’t fully know how to do yet.
But it felt too early to make promises he hadn’t had time to live.
So he said the one thing he knew he could mean tonight.
“If you need anything from me, tell me.”
Maya studied him.
“Okay.”
“And if I do something that makes you uncomfortable—”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Please do.”
A small smile appeared.
“You’re nervous.”
Josiah stared at her.
Maya’s smile widened.
“You are.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’ve been married all day. I’m practically experienced.”
Maya laughed.
“You’ve been married for six hours.”
“That’s six more hours than I had this morning.”
“Go change, Josiah.”
He smiled.
“Yes, Mrs. Walker.”
She picked up a pillow.
Josiah closed the bathroom door before she could throw it.
He stood on the other side smiling.
Then looked at himself in the mirror.
Husband.
The word still felt strange.
Maybe it would for a while.
He didn’t know what tomorrow would ask of him.
He didn’t know what Maya would need.
He didn’t know what kind of husband he would become.
But he knew where he needed to start.
Before he could lead her, he had to follow God.
And tomorrow, he would do it again.