Page 12 of Letters of Faith
“What should I do, Nate?”
Silence. Not that I expected an answer, but I would do anything to have one.
“God, I know it’s been a while, but if you’re listening, can you send me a sign? What am I supposed to be doing here? Because I have toadmit, I’m lost.”
I wait for something to happen—anything really—but like before, I’m met with silence. This time, I expected it.
Chapter 5
Georgia,
I’m writing this letter as you sleep on the couch beside me. Your dark hair is spread out around you, and I want to reach over and run my fingers through it—anchoring me to you, letting me know that I’m not gone yet.
You look peaceful with your eyes closed and face relaxed—no worries lining it. It’s taking everything in me not to lean over and place a kiss on your forehead, right in the spot where those lines usually appear, but I want you to have your moment of peace because soon, those moments will be harder to hold on to.
We found out I have cancer today. The doctors say they will do everything possible, but they aren’t confident it will be enough. When they told me about the cancer, I think, in a way, I became numb. Then I started thinking—what about my wife? I can’t leave my wife.
I promise, Georgia, I will fight to stay with you, but if I can’t, I need you to know I love you. I love you so much.
I hope you never receive this letter. I’m writing it as my contingency plan because if I’m gone, there are some things I want you to know.
You are strong. I know you don’t believe that, but you are. And, baby, I need you to show that strength now. If I’m gone, that probably means you’re struggling. I would be if I were you, but my death can’t define the rest of your life—or your faith. Don’t let it define your faith.
At first, I was scared—but I know where I’m going, Georgia. I’m going home. The only thing that scares me now is leaving you alone. When I leave, will you hide yourself away? The town loves you, but will you allow them to smother you?
I don’t want those things for you. I want you to thrive, and live, and love, and most of all, I want you to hold onto your faith.
There are moments in our life that are going to test us. This is one of them. Whether it ends in our happily ever after or you finding your own way, this journey is a moment to test us—to test what we are made of.
I wanted life with you, but if I can’t have it, live for me. Don’t hide from the pain. Let people love you, but also set boundaries. You struggle with both of those—finding the balance between them.
Find your strength, Georgia. Find who you are without me—go on adventures and find love again. I can picture you rolling your eyes at that last part, but I’m serious. Life is about love and finding someone to spend it with. You’ve only known our love, but if you’re getting this letter, that means I’m gone. And—that’s a shame, baby, because you were made to be loved. You pour all you love into everyone else—filling their cup—but you deserve to have your cup filled, too. Don’t stay lonely out of loyalty to me. I know you love me, but your love doesn’t start and end with me.
PS This letter is only meant for when I’m gone. You don’t get to leave me if I’m still here because I love you with my whole heart, and I won’t share. I’m not selfish enough to make you miss the chance at love if I’m gone, though.
One more thing—I know you feel lost right now. We talked about forever only to have it ripped away from us, but you’ll find yourself, Georgia. I promise—just don’t be too afraid to take chances when they arise. Sometimes, our best opportunities are right in front of our faces. We just have to look.
Love,
Nate
Chapter 6
Georgia
Asheen of sweat glistens on my forehead as my stomach churns.
I’m going to puke.
Rushing to the bathroom with the letter still in hand, I place it on the sink before dry-heaving into the toilet. Between the phone call with my mom, the talk with Grayson, and the visit with Nate tonight, I haven’t eaten since this morning, and I’m counting my blessings.
When I got home from the cemetery, the letter was sitting in the mailbox on top of all my other mail. My heart stopped when I saw my name written in Nate’s clean handwriting. If it weren’t for that one detail, I would have thought someone was pranking me—a cruel prank, but a prank all the same. But there’s no denying that smooth handwriting.
Grayson used to make fun of Nate for it, telling him it looked like a girl’s. Nate took it all in stride, never letting Gray ruffle his feathers. His ability to take a joke and give it back was just one of the many things I loved about him. He was one of the happiest people I knew.
Once I convinced myself to pick the envelope up from the mailbox, I wasted no time slinging open the guest house door and ripping into it, careful not to get the letter in my haste. Fear, anxiety, and a little bit of hope—for what I’m not sure—ran through my veins as I beganto read over the words, but I didn’t make it more than the first line before running in here.
With my nerves under control, I stand, wipe the back of my hand across my mouth, and pick up the letter from where I laid it. My hands tremble as I read the first words my husband has said to me in over a year.
