Page 74 of Letters of Faith
“Yeah, I am because I realized there was never a question about whether he loved me. It was always a question of whether I would let myself be with him, and right now, the answer is no until I can prove to myself that I’m healed all on my own. He deserves that.”
Dr. Burkes purses her lips. “How do you plan on doing that?”
Another shrug from me. “I guess that’s why I’m here. I was hoping you would advise me on where I should start.”
She sits and considers for a moment, and I worry my whole body might explode from anticipation.
“My advice,” she says at last, “would be to talk to Nate. A year ago, you were in a different place. I advised you to talk to him—tell him about your life and day—now I think it’s time you tell him about all your anger and sadness, along with the happiness that you’ve found. Then, and only then, do I think you’ll be able to move forward.”
“That’s it? You think it’s that simple?”
She laughs. It’s light and merry, contrasting everything running through me right now.
“No, Georgia. Healing is never that simple, but I think it’s the step you need to move forward with Grayson. When you do move on, you will have days that you miss Nate, and that’s okay. You just have to continue to find pieces of yourself again. Find what makes you happy—not anyone else—and give yourself permission to feel it.”
“What if I’m scared of finally accepting the reality of Nate being gone?”
Her face sobers as she looks at me. “Your options are—either accept that reality or let Grayson go. It’s up to you.”
Chapter 32
Georgia
It’s Saturday morning, the day I always visit Nate. I’m getting ready and dressing up because I know this time is different than all the rest.
A knock at my front door has me putting down my curling iron and praying it’s Grayson.
My entire body freezes when I get to the door and look through the peephole. Harper stands on the other side of the door along with Ellie. A rage I’ve never known before burns through me as I sling open the door and place my hands on my hips, glaring at Harper.
“What are you doing here?” I ask through clenched teeth. My tone is calm and controlled, but inside, I’m one comment away from exploding.
From beside Harper, Ellie asks, “May we come in?”
I take a deep breath through my nose and exhale slowly, trying to gain control of myself, but it doesn’t help.
“You can,” I say, turning my gaze to Ellie, “but she can’t.”
“Georgia—” Ellie starts.
“No, Ellie. I’m sure Harper hasn’t told you what she said to me, but I’m done playing nice. I love you, but you have a habit of defending her because you feel sorry for her. I can no longer do that—not until she gets over her problem with me. I will not invite her into a homethat already holds the worst possible memory for me.”
Ellie nods, tears shining in her eyes but acceptance written on her face.
“I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, and shock resonates through me as I turn to Harper.
“What did you just say?” I ask, my ears unable to believe what I just heard.
“I said that I’m sorry,” she says, more confident this time.
She avoids making eye contact with me, her face flushed beat red, and in shock, I step back, opening the door wider for the pair to step through.
When they are inside, and I’ve closed the door behind me, Ellie nudges Harper with her elbow, prompting her to continue.
“Look,” she says, finally making eye contact with me. “I should not have said what I did. It wasn’t my place. I was having a bad day and took it out on you.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glance to the side, refusing to look at her because my blood still boils when I do. “Every time you see me is a bad day, Harper. That’s not the first hateful thing you’ve done to me, and I’m tired of just letting it roll off my back. I don’t understand what I’ve ever done to make you hate me so much.”
She lets out a long sigh, and I can hear the weariness in it. She’s tired—maybe more than I have ever been—and that makes me sad for her despite all the hatefulness she’s thrown my way.
