Page 77 of Letters of Faith
When I reach his headstone, I kneel on the ground in front of him, tracing my fingers over his name in a loving caress.
“Hi, Nate,” I whisper into the air.
For a moment, I let the noises of the world surround us, enjoying my time with my husband before everything changes.
“Listen, I got your letter—the last one, I mean. You’re sneaky, you know that? All this time, you’ve been pushing me towards the man that’s been there all along.”
I sigh, turning so I’m no longer on my knees and sitting so my back rests against his headstone. The breeze blows my hair, and I imagine it’s his way of wrapping his arms around me.
“I’ve been angry, Nate—so very angry—and I was mad at myself because I promised you I wouldn’t be. But you were my best friend, and I didn’t know how not to be. This whole situation hasn’t been fair, and I hate that. None of us deserved losing you, but it was the hands that life dealt us. Grayson and I had to learn to deal with it. I didn’t, though. Rather—I couldn’t. I was lost in the dark, searching for a way out, but there was no light to lead me home, Nate—not until Grayson.He led me home. He is home, and I think it’s a relief knowing that you’re okay with that—that you expected it even.”
The words clog in my throat as I think about all the ways I’ve messed up with Grayson.
“I have to admit something to you, though, Nate. I messed up. I really messed up. Grayson—he’s fragile, and I think I might have shattered him. We haven’t talked in a while. I was a coward, and that’s on me. I’m going to fix it, though. I have to fix it because I love him, Nate.”
That confession burns. I never thought I’d be telling my husband that I love another man, but I know he’d be okay with this one. When the words are out, floating up to where Nate watches over me, the weight I’ve held on my shoulders since the day we found out Nate had cancer finally lifts.
I asked Dr. Burkes what it meant to heal on my own, and she said to talk to Nate. But I think the healing came when I finally gave myself permission to live without Nate. I’ve held back a piece of myself, even while I was doing what the letters asked me to, because there was still this sense of guilt on my shoulders because I was here to live and Nate was not. I get it now, though—the idea that I can live the life Nate never got to. By falling in love again and choosing to live my life, I’m honoring his memory, which gives me the peace I’ve been so desperately searching for.
Slowly, I stand to leave. This goodbye feels different than the others—like nothing will be the same after I leave—and I guess that’s true because, with each letter, I’ve changed. I’m no longer Nate’s wife—the girl he married after high school. I’m someone new—a girl he’ll never get a chance to know. That no longer scares me like it used to.
“I’ll see you next time, Nate.”
Chapter 34
Grayson
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Georgia. I’m miserable. She asked me to give her time, and I’m respecting that. She contacted HR and asked to use her vacation time this week, so I haven’t seen her at work either.
“Uncle Grayson, Uncle Grayson,” Avery yells in my ear from beside me.
“Avery, you’re on a level ten. Maybe you can drop it down to a five, huh?” I say, rubbing my finger in my ear that she just pierced.
“You’re so funny, Uncle Grayson. I’m not ten or five. Remember, I’m four,” she says, pointing at a banner that reads “Happy Fourth Birthday, Avery.”
Despite the ringing in my ear and the weight on my chest, I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. The kid is something else.
“You got me there, Avery. Now, what did you need?”
A sneaky grin slips onto her lips, contrasting her angelic face. Wariness overcomes me as I squint at her, trying to decipher where this is going.
“I told my friends how you let me color, and since it’s my birthday, I thought we could color again,” she says, hitching her finger over her shoulder and pointing at three little girls behind her—all armed with an array of highlighters and markers.
A groan slips past my lips, and Brooks chooses this moment to appear. He’s wearing the same sneaky grin his daughter had on her face moments ago—now I know where the markers came from.
“Please, Uncle Grayson,” Avery pleads from beside me, sticking her lip out and widening her eyes into puppy dog eyes until there’s only one answer for me to give.
Sighing, I roll up my sleeves. “Fine,” I say, as a gaggle of four year olds attack me.
Brooks’s laugh is sinister, and I glare at him over the top of the girls’ heads.
“Payback,” I mouth, but he continues to laugh, walking away and leaving me to fend for myself.
Thirty minutes later, when every inch of my arms has been colored on, the girls finally release their grip on me, and I make a beeline to the kitchen, hoping to hide away. But first—my present to Avery.
Brooks stands in the kitchen beside his wife, dipping his finger into the icing as she swats him away. When he sees me, his face lights up, taking in the colors adorning my arms.
“Nice tattoos, Gray,” he says, pure glee filling his voice.
