Finding Heaven

Equivalent movie rating of 18A for sexual & physical assault, verbal & emotional abuse, and moderate profanity, and intense themes such as domestic violence, childhood sexual abuse, and human trafficking.

“So, what do you do?” Sarah said.

She took a bite of ice cream and held the cold lump against the roof of her mouth.

Steve’s tone was somber. “I help run a shelter for women who want to get out, teaching them viable skills so they have options. Them and their kids, who otherwise run a high risk of being trafficked, also. It’s not easy—the whole system is set up to keep these women there, forever. Most of them are too scared to leave, or they have nowhere else to go.”

He paused, and when he continued, his eyes saw something far beyond the ocean.

“I have seen such unspeakable things in the slums of Mumbai. I had to do something.” His eyes focused on Sarah. “That’s why I’m here—I’m giving a presentation about my work tonight, raising funds to purchase a building for our child care centre.”

Sarah studied Steve, brow furrowed. She had never met anyone like him. He obviously had a lot going for him. And he wasn’t even from India. Why on earth would he be working with prostitutes in Mumbai? Was this guy really all that he seemed?

“Why do you care about them so much?”

Steve’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Tell you what, neighbour. Why don’t you come to my presentation tonight, and you’ll find out?”

Sarah gulped, then shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

“I guess that will have to do.” Steve gave her a broad smile and then licked off his spoon with relish.

Sarah cleaned out the last of her ice cream from the cup. She thought about the haunting faces in Steve’s photos, the women—girls!—he fought to free from sexual bondage. Then she thought about the housewives who read the sordid tales that flowed from her word processor, whose favourite escape was a fictional affair. Finally, she thought about the long hours she spent cranking those stories out, inserting names and faces and events around steamy scenes that left her cold as a stone.

“I wish I had even a fraction of your passion for my own work.”

She was slightly embarrassed that she had blurted that out loud, but she knew it was the truth. She had a successful career, a handsome husband, and a comfortable lifestyle, yet she felt dead inside. And this man—who never had Starbucks and worked with prostitutes in a developing country—seemed to find joy in even the smallest things and spread it to everyone he met.

She felt a desperate craving to experience that kind of joy. She had hoped that having a baby would let her do that, but now, the chances seemed slim. The diagnosis she had yet to share with Craig loomed in her mind, overshadowing any hope she’d held onto. She thought sadly of the baby that she would likely never hold—the one chance she would have had to break out of her icy existence.

That’s not what I deserve. Why bother wanting it? The yearning shrivelled before it had even taken root. My life is what it is.

Steve gave her a hard stare.

“It’s never too late to make a change. You know that, right?”

Locked in the grip of those blue eyes, Sarah felt like he could see everything she was thinking at that moment. She wasn’t sure if the thought was terrifying or comforting.

She also knew he was wrong. Sometimes it was too late.