Page 48 of Crazy Little Thing Called Love
Two hours later, Faith stood in her driveway with a suitcase at her feet, waiting for the taxi she’d called.
Ruth had already left with Edward, but not before giving Faith a fierce hug and whispering, “Don’t stay away too long, dear. Some mistakes are harder to undo than others.”
Now Faith stood alone in front of the Victorian that had become her sanctuary, her home, her symbol of everything she’d thought she wanted. The house was beautiful—fully restored, perfectly appointed, every detail exactly as she’d dreamed.
It was also empty. And for the first time since she’d bought it, Faith wondered if a house could ever really be a home when there was no one to share it with.
The taxi pulled up, and Faith picked up her suitcase. She didn’t look back as they drove away. She’d gotten good at that too—the art of leaving without looking back.
But as the Victorian disappeared behind the trees, Faith couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, she might be leaving behind the one thing she’d been searching for all along.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
The studio feltdifferent on New Year’s Eve. Faith had decorated it with silver streamers and a small champagne bottle that Lucy had insisted would “set the mood” for their special midnight show. Outside, Dallas glittered with celebration, but inside the booth, Faith felt the familiar comfort of her professional sanctuary.
Two weeks at her parents’ house had been exactly what she’d needed—and everything she’d dreaded. Her mother’s gentle questions, her father’s concerned glances, the therapist they’d quietly suggested she see. Dr. Miranda Collins had been kind but relentless, helping Faith untangle years of carefully constructed defenses.
“You can’t heal while you’re still protecting the wound,” Dr. Collins had said during their final session. “At some point, you have to trust that you’re strong enough to love and be loved without losing yourself.”
Now, back in Dallas, Faith felt different. Raw, but cleaner somehow. Ready to face whatever came next.
“Thirty seconds to midnight, Faith,” Lucy’s voice crackled through her headphones. “You’ve been brilliant tonight. Really brilliant.”
Faith smiled, adjusting her microphone. The show had been one of her best—calls about new beginnings, second chances, the courage to start over. Perfect for New Year’s Eve.
“Thank you all for joining me tonight,” Faith said into the microphone, her voice warm with genuine affection for her listeners. “As we head into this new year, I want you to remember that every day is a chance to choose love over fear, hope over despair, connection over isolation. From all of us here at WKTP, have a safe and happy?—”
Lucy’s voice cut through her earpiece, practically vibrating with excitement. “Faith, wait. We’ve got one more caller.”
Faith glanced through the glass and raised her brows, but Lucy was ignoring her. “Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have time for one final call.Devoted in Dallas, you’re on the air with Dr. Hartwell.”
“Happy New Year, Doc.”
Faith’s breath caught. That voice—deep, familiar, achingly beloved—sent electricity racing through her veins. Her eyes flew to Lucy, who was grinning like she’d just won the lottery.
“What can I help you with tonight?” Faith managed, her professional training warring with the sudden thundering of her heart.
“Well, I’m hoping you can give me some advice about second chances.” Jake’s voice was softer than usual, vulnerable in a way that made Faith’s chest tight. “You see, I fell in love with this incredible woman. Brilliant, beautiful, stronger than she knows. But I messed it up because I got scared.”
Faith gripped the edge of her desk, her knuckles white. Through the glass, she could see Lucy practically bouncing in her chair.
“What scared you?” Faith asked quietly.
“I was afraid I wasn’t good enough for her. Afraid I’d hurt her the way someone else had. So instead of trusting her to know her own heart, I started treating her like she was broken. Like she needed to be fixed instead of loved.”
Faith’s eyes filled with tears she couldn’t shed on air. “And what would you say to her now, if you could?”
Jake was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was rough with emotion. “I’d tell her that I was wrong. That she was never broken—she was healing, and that takes more courage than I ever had. I’d tell her that watching her rebuild her life from the ground up was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I was honored to witness even a part of it.”
“That’s…” Faith had to stop, clear her throat. “That’s very honest.”
“I’d tell her that love isn’t about rescuing someone or being rescued. It’s about choosing to build something together, even when it’s scary, even when you don’t have all the answers.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “And I’d tell her that if she’d give me another chance, I’d spend the rest of my life proving that real love doesn’t try to erase your past—it honors it, because your past made you who you are.”
Faith closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks despite her best efforts. “And what if she’s changed? What if she’s not the same person you fell in love with?”
“Then I’d fall in love with who she’s become,” Jake said without hesitation. “Because the thing about real love, Doc—it grows. It adapts. It chooses the person again and again, through every change, every challenge, every new version of themselves they become.”
The studio was dead silent except for the soft hiss of the audio equipment. Faith could hear her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
