Page 15 of Letters of Faith
“I know, Ellie,” Isay, pacifying her.
There’s a knowing look in her eye, though, that makes me wonder if she understands what I’m not saying and the exasperation I have towards Harper.
“Nate would want you to be happy, Georgia. Are you happy?”
I don’t answer her immediately, thinking back on the past year. It’s not that I’m not happy. It’s just that my soul hurts without Nate. Before he died, he asked me to live, and he asked me the same thing in that letter, but I have forgotten how to. I think it’s time I try, though.
“Not yet, but I will be,” I say, carrying the food in one arm and swinging the other around her shoulders.
She smiles, wrapping one arm around my waist and squeezing.
“I know you will be, sweet girl. I can feel it in my bones.”
That at least makes one of us.
Chapter 7
Grayson
Bourbon burns its way down as I sling back the drink. When Georgia left work, I grabbed the bottle and poured myself a glass.
It was only supposed to be one glass.
Now half the bottle is gone, and by that reasoning, I might as well finish the rest.
My life is one disaster away from being total chaos. My best friend died, I’m in love with his wife, and I have a brother who I knew nothing about.
Who am I kidding? It’s not one disaster away—it is total chaos.
Pouring another glass, I down it as fast as the last one, except it goes down smoother this time.
I meant to leave the office hours ago, but where would I go? Back to an empty house to wallow in? I can do that just as well here, and I’ll already be here for work tomorrow.
Now I’m lying here drunk on the couch beside my desk.
I’m pathetic.
Catching sight of a picture frame on the bookshelf across the room, I rise from the couch, unsteady on my feet. I place my hand on the wall and use it to maneuver until I’m standing in front of the bookshelf. Reaching out, I pick up the picture that perfectly defines my life.
We are at a college football game. I bought season tickets for Nate and me. We went to every game, but Georgia wanted to come to this one, and neither Nate nor I could tell her no. It was two years after we graduated college. My business had started to take off, and I was finally in a good place for the first time in my life. Nate and Georgia were going strong, and I knew that marriage was on their horizon. I just didn’t expect Nate to propose that day—or that I would be there when he did.
During the middle of the second half, Georgia was leading the people around us in a cheer. I watched as Nate became so enamored with her that he lowered himself to one knee and asked her to marry him right there. I think Nate was just as surprised by the proposal because he didn’t even have the ring with him, but after watching Georgia at that game, half the men in the stadium wanted to propose. Nate was the only lucky one to have the ability to do so.
Someone below us had the foresight to take a picture. In it, Nate is down on one knee, Georgia is smiling at him like he’s the sun her world revolves around, and I’m off to the side, smiling at the two. If anyone bothered to look close enough, though, they would see the conflict in my eyes. I loved them both, but my heart broke a little too.
The bookshelf moves in front of me as I try to place the picture back on the shelf. With unsteady hands, I reach out, trying to decide which of the two shelves is the real one. I guess wrong and watch as the picture falls to the ground, glass crashing when it hits.
If that’s not foretelling, I don’t know what is.
Turning so my back’s against the bookcase, I lower myself until I’m sitting on the floor, careful of the broken glass.
I’m spiraling, and I hate that.
When Georgia left the office tonight, it stung that she didn’t need me, or maybe it was because I didn’t want to admit how much I needed her.
I’m not supposed to need anyone.
I’m Grayson Lewis—a self-made man.
