For Worse

Knock, knock, knock.

Chase stood and stretched, feeling his back pop after sitting still for what must've been hours, doodling on his computer pad. The knock had come from Justine, who still was very quiet after the other night. Of course, that went both ways, and he hadn't said much either. Still, they'd agreed to talk today and it was important that they sort things out.

The thought made him smile morbidly. A year-and-a-half ago, he'd desperately wanted to be in a relationship. When you were single, you had a tendency to forget how much work and effort truly needed to go into a relationship. So many Hollywood romances faded to back on a happily ever after. Real life was rough, and it had a tendency to kick you right where it would hurt the most.

Justine had gotten her hit the previous Sunday. Out of a desire to help the church's volunteer-run groups, the pastor had talked briefly about service to God, and utilizing one's gifts. Looking back, Chase was stunned by his own short-sightedness and lack of forethought. If he'd only talked to her and pushed just a little more, he could've… Well, maybe it wouldn't have done any good in any case.

Still, he knew this was something they were going to have to talk out, and he found himself stuck in a sort of strange limbo between a desire to leave the room and a pull calling him to lock the door and waste away within the walls of the place.

It had been a couple months since they'd began properly dating, and the June heat made his office a little stuffy and unpleasant if he didn't keep his mind focused on the art. In a way, he appreciated the discomfort. It was a distraction, even if it was something of an irritant, and he liked the distraction. It helped him calm down, and react rationally. At first, he'd been furious, but he'd known better than to react instinctually. Experience counted for something… if only just.

While he didn't really want to leave the office, he knew it was for the best. After all, Justine needed him to be with her during this time. The truth was he'd already abused his time to himself over the past couple of days. Two nights ago, Chase had realized one of the worst nightmares in his psyche. The talks of purpose and service had dug at Justine, and caused her doubt and stress. But he hadn't pressed, and she hadn't asked, instead trying to shoulder the struggle herself. The end result was that she'd broken down, and retreated from the world in the way she best knew.

He'd returned with food for the two of them to find her passed out on the couch with the needle laying on the floor next to her. He'd called an ambulance and after she'd been cared for and discharged the following day, Chase had retreated into his office and explained he needed a bit of time to think.

She'd obliged him his request, and only asked that he talk to her today. He'd agreed and they'd said no more to each other since. Chase hadn't slept since she'd come home, but his anger had long-since faded, replaced by feelings of failure and self-disgust. There was a strange aspect deeper within him though.

Somehow, he'd always feared something like this might happen. After all, Justine was an addict and almost every addict relapsed at least a couple times. However, as angry as he'd been at first, he wasn't angry now, and he wasn't even hurt, at least not by her actions. No, his worry had been that he might not trust her. After all, their relationship had often had it's strained and difficult moments even when she'd been getting clean the first time.

However, the strange thing was that he did trust her. If she promised her efforts to remain clean, he'd help her. It wasn't as if he hadn't helped once before. No, he wasn't angry or distrustful, merely concerned and hoping to help. Yet in that focus of his mind, he felt relief. No relationship could last a lack of trust, and if he could trust her, perhaps there was a hope for the pair of them yet.

That hope springing up in his heart, Chase opened the door and sat down at the table next to Justine, who had her head in hands, and Chase could see she was trying not to cry. His heart bled for her in that moment. She was in pain and seeking to end the pain, even if she'd made a poor choice. Besides, who was he to judge poor choices?

Chase reached out tenderly and stroked her back, trying to relax her. At his touch, she initially stiffened, as if afraid he would lash out. When he didn't, she did relax a little. With what appeared to be a grand effort, she lifted her gaze and her eyes met him. She'd been crying, that much was easy to see. Her eyes were red and puffy and after a moment he realized she'd forgone any makeup that morning. True be told though, he thought it was always a pointless move on her part anyway. Chase liked her just as she was.

"You ready to talk?" he asked gently.

Justine bit her lip and swallowed once before nodding.

"It's alright," he tried to tell her. "I'm not angry, truly. You just need some help right now, so I want to do whatever needs to be done. What got to you?"

"It's a mix of things, I think…" she said, her voice croaky and soft from disuse. "I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Chase."

Chase paused, thinking through her words. Justine always kept fairly busy, moreso than he did anyway. She'd begun building a life and making friends, even if it had been a fairly slow process.

"I'm not sure I completely understand," he said, taking one of her hands in his. "Haven't you been busy since we met really?"

She sighed, and her sigh was one of exasperation as much as weariness. Yet, Chase didn't feel that she was frustrated with him at any rate. Her breath and posture was like a soldier that had been fighting so long, they didn't even hope to return home anymore. All she wanted was for everything to stop.

The sight broke his heart.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with my life," she said, and the tears appeared in the corners of her eyes. "I'm a drug addict bitch, Chase. I don't have any skills or talents or…"

Chase reached over the table and embraced her, trying his best to ignore the feeling of the table corner jabbing him in the stomach due to his awkward maneuver. Still, it had the desired effect. She went silent and hugged him back.

"You are not useless," Chase said, kissing her forehead. "You have a drug addiction, yes. So what? Jesus himself traveled with many who were the lowest rungs of society: prostitutes and fishermen and tax collects. That's to say nothing of Saul, who killed Christians prior to his being blinded. Heck, God used Moses–a stuttering dessert-dweller–to speak to the pharaoh and free the slaves."

Justine smiled softly at that.

"Actually I think that was Aaron," she said quietly. "I just don't know what I'm supposed to do, Chase. I thought after I was saved things would get easier, but I've never felt as lost in life. Things are just so… open now. I didn't used to want to walk a Christian path, but at least I could tell where it was. Now, I've got no clue. Everyone else seems so sure how to use their talents for him and I just feel like I'm still waddling in the kiddie pool of spirituality, just trying to catch up."

Chase nodded.

"You need to accept a few things. Firstly, you need help, and I don't just mean with the heroin. You need to talk to others who serve and find out how they found their calling and what they recommend. Almost no one gets it right straight away. So, lean on those around you. I'll always help you as I can, of course, but I'm not the only one who care about you. Maybe see about and accountability partner? Having someone outside of your immediate relations that you can call and rely on can make a world of difference. Plenty of men utilize one to deal with sexual desire. There's no reason women shouldn't be able to help prop one another up as well."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "I thought the Christian journey was supposed to be all about your personal relationship with God?"

"It is, but it isn't just that. One of the major functions of the church isn't just to learn or apply the word to our lives, it's a community. Pastor William always says that the church isn't the building but the body. Find someone you truly trust, like you trust me, and ask for their help. They won't hurt you or put you down in asking."

Justine let out a long sigh, running her fingers over her face like she did when she was struggling with a poem.

"I just feel like the more I learn about all of this, the less I understand," she said softly.

"Everyone does," Chase said nodding to himself. "It's difficult, I know."

"I guess… I just don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. The pastor always talks about God having a purpose for each of our lives and I just can't seem to see it. I mean… looking at your art, it's obvious that's what you love. You always seem to be motivated and energized for it. It's just… you."

Chase smiled softly, and when Justine fell silent, he said, "I'm not always motivated to make my art. Honestly, I go through months and months where when I wake up I can't seem to find any motivation or desire to put the brush to canvas. I can sit there staring at a blank bit of canvas just waiting and waiting for something to strike me and make since, and often times it won't. Inspiration isn't always considerate of a real-time need."

"So what do you do when you're not inspired?"

"It sounds stupid," he said, grinning again. "But I do what I can to get inspired, namely pray. It's all about mindset for me. If I'm focused on God, and making sure my attention is pulled towards him, I find not only can I make my art, rather it becomes a burning desire inside of me. But if my focus is on the art itself, or even the results of that art, I can easily become lethargic; and no amount of coffee, or music, or focus can help that."

Justine went silent for a little while, staring at a spot on the table.

"What if I pray and still don't have that answer?"

Chase reached over, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You rely on those around you, and keep trying things until you get it right. It's not easy, in fact, very little in your walk will be. It requires a lot of work and effort, but you don't have to try to do it all alone. I'm here for you, and so are Peter, Miranda, and a lot of folk from the church I'm sure. Beyond that there are online groups if that might be easier for you. As long as you're prepared to keep trying, I'll be there to help you."

Justine embraced him, shivering slightly. He slowly put his arms around her, thinking quietly to himself.

The next few weeks were spent focusing on getting Justine both through her relapse as well as helping her find a focus and a support network beyond just himself. The moment their focus shifted in that direction, things began to move as if on fast-forward. Miranda had taken to Justine and the two spent several hours together, leaving Peter and Chase to chat and share moments in their own journeys with one another. Soon these meetings had become a weekly staple of their lives.

Justine quickly found a place working with the worship team and helped them with all sorts of their design. Her eye for detail and artistic design combined with years of living as cheap as possible meant she knew how to make things appealing without spending money the church wouldn't have.

They also ended moving to a slightly larger apartment, and while she hadn't mentioned a desire for it, Chase felt confident that Justine was grateful to have her own space. Soon it was as cluttered with poems and papers as Chase's office was with paintings and art. They spent more and more time with one another and both of them continued to improve, finding a peace in their life that they'd strived for over the past couple years.

Time marched on, and June soon slipped into July, and into August; and before Chase knew what was going on, the Christmas service was upon them. Justine had spent several days over the past month helping decorate the place and he had to admit that she'd done a wonderful job. She had a great eye for things that would beautify and enhance a scene without drawing attention away from the team and the music.

Justine took her seat between him and Miranda and kissed his cheek quickly.

"It looks beautiful," he said, gesturing towards the stage.

"Thank you," she said, and Chase noticed a soft flush in her face.

"So are you."

"Shut up," she said softly, wrapping her arm around his.

Chase smiled to himself. He'd spent so many years just hoping and hoping for a relationship… for his perfect woman. Yet, he'd never really considered everything that went with that relationship. Things had been difficult, and doubtless would be again. He didn't know what challenges or changes awaited them, but he also knew he didn't really care. After all, he knew that he loved Justine, and she loved him, and both of them followed God first. Beyond that, everything was just problems to get through, and he knew they would. As long as it been in arriving, his relationship ended up being absolutely nothing like he'd intended, and it had ended up all the better because of it.

The End.