Starlight in Her Eyes by Joann Durgin Page B

with one of her friends. I hope you’ll forgive me for being so harsh when you first asked me to share lunch with you. I judged you, and that was wrong.”
    “I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” Colin said. “I’ve gone from being a man who only believed in himself to a man who’s accepted the grace and mercy of a loving God. In some ways, I’ve found the love that I never received from my parents. I’ve never claimed to be a perfect man, and for a long time, I wasn’t even a decent man.” Colin met her gaze. “I wasn’t respectful of women the way God intends, and I deeply regret many of the things I’ve done in my past.”
    Serena twisted her fingers together in her lap. “You mentioned fighting a drinking problem but that you never succumbed. Were you ever…?”
    “So inebriated to the point where I stumbled home on a few occasions and—to be blunt—at times woke up with someone and couldn’t remember how I got there? Yes.” He rubbed his hand over his brow. “You might as well know everything there is to know about me, Serena. My mum left the family when I was ten, and my dad didn’t know how to cope with his only child. I was more a nuisance to him than anything else, and he farmed me out to various relatives until I was sixteen and started fending for myself. I stayed with mates, and did what I needed in order to eat, to have a roof over my head, and to simply survive.”
    “Where are your parents now?” Serena laid a gentle hand on his arm.
    Colin hung his head, staring at the carpet for so long that Serena thought he might not answer. “They’re both gone. Mum died at forty-five from alcohol poisoning—when I was twenty-five—and my father passed away three years ago from a sudden stroke. I attended their services in England, but in both cases, I felt oddly detached. I accepted condolences from the few who attended and then promptly drowned my misery in a lot of alcohol. I wasn’t picky. Anything that would deaden my senses was good. My grandparents were all gone by that time. I had no one else.”
    Slumping against the sofa cushions, Colin blew out a breath. “I felt that neither of my parents tried hard enough to be a good parent to me, and I blamed them for everything wrong in my life. In large part, that’s why I never wanted to believe that God could be a God of mercy, of grace, and of love. How could He be any of those things when He stuck me with not one, but two lousy parents? I realize now those were only excuses, but at the time, it was a convenient reason at my disposal to push God and my parents from my life. In my search for affection, I equated physical closeness with love in a search to find my soul and soothe my wounded heart.”
    Serena waited, knowing he wasn’t done, wanting him to finish. Her heart ached for him, and she longed to ease his unrest and pain. Nothing he’d told her shocked her. She’d heard so many stories and experienced so much in her own life that she had no reason to judge. Colin’s heart was repentant, and sitting beside her now was a changed man. That was all that mattered.
    “I lived life in the fast lane for a number of years,” he said. “Most people don’t know that I only have two years of university. I worked hard as a television intern in Chicago and then in Des Moines. I used my looks and my supposed charm to get what I wanted, when I wanted it, and by whatever means necessary. I hate to think of those I hurt in my wake.” Colin’s voice caught, and he rose to his feet. “I should go. I’ve said more than enough.”
    Standing beside him, Serena took his hand and pointed to the sofa. “Please sit down, Colin. If you think anything you’ve said tonight will disgust me or turn me away from you, then you’re wrong. We all have things in our past we wish we hadn’t done. I appreciate your telling me; but remember, you didn’t know Jesus during that time. You have one of the most generous, giving hearts I’ve ever known.