Page 3 of Letters of Faith
Guilt eats at my stomach for listening—invading Nate’s privacy. It’s something he hasn’t had a lot of in recent months. I step back to retreat out of the room but run straight into the nurse coming in to check vitals. She squeals as I squish at least three of her toes. I’m busy apologizing when I hear Nate tell Grayson he will call him back later, and then he’s calling my name.
With heat flooding my cheeks and the nurse beside me, I pull the curtain back for my husband to see me.
There’s a grin on his face—just like there always is when he looks at me. I want to bottle the memory of that smile up and keep it forever so I never lose it. That’s what I’m afraid of the most—forgetting things about him. What if I wake up one day and forget how he smells or how it feels when his lips press against mine?
Placing my hands behind my back, I try not to look guilty.
“Where have you been?” Nate asks as the nurse pokes around him, checking his blood pressure and listening to his lungs.
“I needed some air, so I went for a walk outside of the hospital.”
His smile drops, and he lowers his brows, glowering at me—it’s a new look for him. “Georgia—you’ve got to have some self-preservation. This isn’t Middle Creek, where you can wander at all times of night, and no one will look twice at you. I can’t come to your rescue right now—and that kills me—so can you just use some common sense here?”
My head jerks back as if he slapped me. Nate has never talked to me that way. Even when we’ve argued, he’s always been the calm to mystorm, but this is anything but calm. His jaw is clenched, and when I look up at his eyes, there’s life there in the form of anger.
I step aside as the nurse speeds out of the room, quick to no longer be a part of this conversation. My bottom lip trembles, but I tuck it between my teeth, refusing to let him see it.
“Nate,” I start, but my voice wavers, a mixture of anger and sadness. I clear my throat and try again. “I heard you talk to Grayson, and I know you think you have to worry about me, but you don’t. I’m fine.”
The lie is bitter on my tongue because I’m the furthest thing from fine, but, like he always has, Nate sees right through me.
A heavy sigh leaves my husband’s chest, then he scoots over in his bed and pulls the blankets back.
“Come here, Georgia,” he says, crooking his finger and calling me to him.
My stubborn streak is tempted to hold out for a second just for spite. Then I remember that we are living on borrowed time, and it has me rushing over to crawl under the blanket with him—needing to memorize how it feels to have his chest pressed against my back and his arms wrapped around me.
His hands smooth down the length of my hair, and I close my eyes, cataloging this moment.
“You don’t have to lie to me, pretty girl,” Nate whispers against my head, “You’re not fine, and I know that because if the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t be fine either. You’re going to have to let it out sooner or later.”
Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes tighter.
Denial—that’s the first stage, right?
“When I’m gone—”
“Don’t—don’t say that,” I interrupt.
“Listen to me,” he says, tugging my shoulder until I turn so that I’m facing him.
Therewas a time when he would have simply lifted me, but these days, he can hardly walk alone, let alone pull me to him.
When I’m facing him, and we are chest to chest, he begins again, “When I’m gone, I want you to keep living. You’re not dying with me—even if it might feel like it for a while.”
“You’re asking for a lot today,” I say, burying my head into his chest.
He drops a kiss on my forehead, his lips paper dry against my skin. “I know I am—but you can do it, Georgia. Life will go on even when I’m gone. Don’t be afraid to live that life.”
“I am afraid.”
It’s the first time I’ve admitted it aloud. I had hoped by doing so, some of the weight would finally lift off my chest, but it’s still there, digging in and making it hard to breathe.
“It’s okay to be afraid, pretty girl. I’m afraid, too, but you have people on your side. Let them in, okay?”
“Any other requests?” I ask, sarcasm oozing out of my voice.
Nate chuckles, shooting me a grin that makes my heart flutter. “Maybe, but I can’t tell you about them yet.”
