Page 70 of Letters of Faith
He chuckles—actually chuckles—like the thought of his almost divorce is funny to him. “With a lot of communication and work. We’re still working on it, but I’ve found that God knew what he was doing there, too. He knew the woman he was placing in my life—someone who is kind and patient, and when I can’t see who I am, she’s there to remind me. But she also doesn’t mind giving me a swift kick in the pants if I mess up, either. The biggest thing, though, is that we are a team. We work together and talk about things, even if they scare us.”
I make a non-committal sound in the back of my throat, thinking about what he’s said. I’ve held onto the strings of my life pretty tightly, never trusting that God had good things for me because I’d never gotten them in the past. Georgia was the first good thing in my life, and I screwed that up. Look at me go.
“Are you okay, Grayson?” Brooks asks, his voice serious for once.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, hanging up the phone, but it’s a lie. My whole life, I’ve been good at running people off, pushing them out the door. Itdidn’t bother me when they left, but this time, I pushed out the one girl I wanted to keep.
______________________
It’s an hour after Georgia left, and I’m sitting in the middle of my living room, the contents of my whole house surrounding me. I’ve searched high and low for the letter, but I can’t find it.
After talking to Brooks, I realized the letter is my saving grace. If I can get Georgia to read it, maybe she’ll understand why I did what I did. Maybe she’ll finally get that I’ve been in love with her my entire life. She questions that, and I don’t blame her. It’s not like I gave her any inclination before this year. I couldn’t, not when she was in love with Nate, but despite that, I want her to know that I’m telling the truth.
The front door creaks open, and for a minute, my heart leaps to my throat, thinking Georgia’s come back, but when I see Brooks’s dark hair and shocked face as he takes in the drawers surrounding me, it slows to an unnatural rhythm—hammering to the beat of my heartbreak.
“What—uh—-what is all this?” Brooks asks, wincing as he looks around the house. Everything I own has been torn apart—couch cushions are lying on the floor, drawers are pulled out and turned upside down, and papers litter the floor. I can’t find the energy to care, let alone clean it up.
“I was looking for something.”
“I can see that,” Brooks says, cautiously approaching me.
“What are you doing here?” Usually, I would give him some snarky comment, keeping up the brother banter, but I can’t be bothered right now. My life is in shambles, and he’s here to witness it.
Figures—feels like payback from the first time I met him.
“You called.” He says it like it should explain everything, but it doesn’t. Yeah, I called, but I never asked him to come back.
“And?” I ask.
“You called, and we’re family. The Grayson that called me is not the same Grayson I left here an hour ago. I could hear the pain in your voice, Gray, and the Montgomery brothers don’t let each other face pain alone—not anymore. I sent Emryn and Avery with Kip and turned around. You needed someone. It’s as simple as that.”
“My name’s not Montgomery,” I mumble, leaning against the bottom of the couch because I don’t know what to do with his admission. I don’t know how to let people in.
Brooks shoots me a look, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, but he doesn’t address what I’ve said.
“Where’s Georgia?” he asks, looking around like she might pop out of the disaster surrounding me.
Pain, unlike anything I’ve ever known, lances through my chest. It takes me a minute before I can breathe again.
“She left.”
“Like left to go home or left, left?” he asks.
Cocking an eyebrow, I glare at him and spread my arms wide for him to look at the mess around me. “What do you think?” I ask.
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding his hands up. Walking over, he pushes the papers off the recliner across from me and sits down. “Tell me what happened so I can help you fix this. I’m the master of communication now. Just ask, Emryn. I can help.”
Sighing, I tell him everything—starting with the first time I saw Georgia and ending with her walking out. When I’m finished, he whistles between his teeth, shaking his head.
“That’s a lot, Gray.”
“Thank you, Brooks. That was very helpful,” I say sarcastically.
“Sorry. So what’s the plan? How are we getting her back?”
Smirking, I ask, “We?”
“Yeah, Grayson—we. I told you, you’re a Montgomerynow. You don’t do things alone. So where dowestart?”
