“I’d better go. Love you, sis. When you get back, you can get another bird tattoo. I’ll even get one with you. You’ll get through this, I promise.”
“Love you too, Becks. Bye.”
I let my arm fall and my phone tumbled out of my hand onto the van floor. I groaned. You got this, Elle. Thank you, God, for knowing me. Heal my heart, I pray.
Chapter 34
GRAY
Standing outside my parents’ home, the scent of pine and fresh-baked cookies wafted through the air, the classic telltale sign that our family’s annual Christmas in July celebration was just around the corner. Mom was fanatical about turning our family home into a Christmas wonderland even though the sun blazed in the summer sky. With the summer camp having wrapped up a few days ago, I found myself immersed in the heart of the festive chaos, lending a hand with Mom’s extensive preparations.
Too bad each decoration I hung and every cookie I tasted reminded me of Elle. As methodical and logical as I tried to be in my daily life, she proved to be the unsolvable equation, the exception to my well-ordered existence. Preparing tea for Mom took me back to the times I’d done the same for Elle; she liked hers black, no sugar. Or eating Mom’s cherry cheesecake would remind me of our date at Scoops. It was as if every thought, every neuron firing in my brain had somehow been recalibrated to “Elle frequency” and I didn’t know how to think normally again.
While hanging decorations, I’d remember how Elle’s eyes would twinkle, her laughter sweet, as she would interact with the kids at the summer camp. Elle would have loved our silly Christmas in July celebration.
However, nothing was as haunting as the ocean. Each wave crashing onto the shore felt like a whispered promise of her potential return. The reflective lagoons teased my mind, making me believe I might see her silhouette any second. The pain of her absence became so intense that I avoided the beach altogether, a place I’d once found solace in.
I chided myself for being so irrational. I knew she had moved on. But a nagging thought persisted—could she still be in Hilton Head, just not at the hostel? The logical part of me would insist it was better this way, that her departure was a good thing. But the deep-seated hope, that emotion I rarely allowed to surface, yearned for her to poke her head around the corner and ask me if I wanted to join her for a kayak session. Conveniently, all the lies she’d told would vanish from my mind and we could be a couple again. But I knew better.
I was busy putting up Christmas lights on the roof for Mom when the roar of an engine caused me to glance toward the driveway. Dad pulled up to the house. Hopefully, he would just go inside and leave me to my thoughts.
“Hey Dad,” I called, trying my best to sound nonchalant.
“Gray, I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to chat with you. Let me put these groceries inside and I’ll come help you finish out here.”
The weight on my shoulders grew heavier, a sinking feeling took hold. I didn’t know if I could stomach one of his sermons, not now.
Without another word, he went inside the house. He was back so quickly that I almost thought he suspected I’d bolt. The thought had crossed my mind, if only briefly.
He took a string of lights from me and began untangling them, offering a distraction from the inevitable conversation. But then his eyes met mine, a mixture of concern and sternness. “How are you, Gray?”
“Fine,” I answered tersely, my focus on the lights, avoiding his gaze.
His sharp eyes, however, seemed to see right through me, a trait he had perfected over the years. “You’re not fine. I can see you’re hurting. Tell me, have you come to your senses about Elle yet?”
I felt my defensiveness rising. “You know she lied to me, don’t you?”
His eyebrows furrowed. “So?”
Frustration welled up in me. “It’s a big deal, Dad. The trust between us is shattered. She was wrong.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not denying her mistake.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “She’s only human, Gray. Everyone makes mistakes. Brenda mentioned Elle’s been trying to work through some personal things, trying to find her way and trust God more.”
“You don’t get it, Dad. What if she lies again? I can’t take that risk. Our family doesn’t tolerate liars,” I shot back, my voice more bitter than I’d intended.
“Where did you get that?”
“It’s an unspoken rule with us, Dad. I’ve watched you and Mom deal with all the aftermath of lies over the years. Liars are bad news. Besides, Kayley was proof enough for me.”
His expression softened. “Gray,” he began gently, “If I ever gave you the idea that we shouldn’t show grace to those who lie, I apologize. Saying I don’t tolerate liars would be the same as saying I don’t tolerate sinners. We’re all sinners. It’s my privilege—our privilege—to show grace to sinners because God showed His grace towards us when He sent his Son to die in our place.”
“My situation with Elle is not the same, Dad.”
“It is, Gray. Elle is a sinner; she will make mistakes. But she deserves the same grace God offers me and you. You’re on dangerous ground, Gray. You sin and God forgives you. Why can’t you do the same for Elle?”
“She hurt me.”
“So, I bet you hurt God. The thing about grace is that it’s given when it’s least deserved. You sure didn’t deserve for God to die for you, but He did.”