Page 45 of Kayak Girl

Weston’s demeanor softened, yet his conviction remained. “I spent the week with her, and I see what you mean. She’s perfect for you, man. She made a mistake, yes, but she’s trying to grow from it. Unlike you.”

“Me? What did I do wrong? I never lied to her face.”

“No, you didn’t,” he conceded, “but you’ve acted like a jerk this week.”

My conscience rattled at that thought. True, my words to Elle had been harsh, more cutting than I’d intended. And my silence, my deliberate avoidance, was hardly the behavior I should have exhibited. Maybe if I apologized to Elle for being less than gracious, God would give me the peace and justice I was craving.

“Okay, I get it. I need to apologize. But getting back together is off the table. The trust is broken,” I said, a firm resolve underlining my words.

Weston nodded, his piece said, and left me to my thoughts. I tried to resume packing, but his words echoed in my mind, rendering me restless. I needed to find Elle, to offer an olive branch, if not for her, then for my own peace.

With a determined stride, I made my way down the cobblestone path towards her room. The night air was cool, the stones uneven beneath my feet. I reached her door and knocked, the sound hollow against the wood.

Silence greeted me from the other side. I knocked again, my heart pounding. Still, no answer. Impulsively, I tried the handle—it was unlocked. Slowly, I pushed the door open, my breath catching in my throat at the sight.

She was gone. The room, stripped of her presence, lay bare and silent. The realization hit me like a wave—Elle was no longer here. I let the door swing shut. Wasn’t this what I’d wanted? Yet, why did her absence leave a void, an aching space where relief should have been?

Chapter 33

ELLE

Thank you, God, for knowing me. Heal my heart, I pray. I’d prayed this prayer on repeat the last several days. God proved yet again He had my back. St. Helena turned out to be a kayaker’s dream. It had been cathartic to spend so much time on the water. Just me, nature, and God. I’d done a lot of soul searching as I’d paddled.

Upon reflection, I realized that my first mistake was back in Atlanta when I’d run from my troubles instead of facing the life God had before me. From that moment onwards, I’d subconsciously distanced myself from my Creator. Big mistake. In my efforts to craft the trip I thought I should have, I’d lied to Gray. Who knows where I would be now if I’d trusted God with my hopes and dreams?

Gray even said he didn’t care about the car. Brenda’s words also circled around my head this week. I prayed, sang, and read the Word. It was rather ironic when I thought about it. The trip I’d intended to use to run away from my responsibilities would be the trip that would teach me to love and embrace them.

I was thankful for the time I could give to personal growth and my relationship with God, but I still missed Gray. So much so that it sometimes physically hurt. An underlying melancholy followed me everywhere. My sadness taught me something else about myself. I think I loved Gray. His absence left a gaping hole in my heart.

I prayed for him as much as I prayed for myself. Day and night, I prayed for his heart to heal. It would be tragic if my mistake caused him to be even more wary of trusting people. You know that saying It’s better to have loved and lost than to never love at all? I one hundred percent did not agree. How long would my heart feel this broken? I couldn’t do this a second time.

My phone buzzed on my pillow next to me and I answered it.

“Hey Becky.”

“Hey Elle, just checking on you. How’re you doing?”

“It’s raining, so I’m stuck lying here thinking everything over. And I’m bored out of my mind. But God has been kind to me. How about you?” I asked in return, not wanting to focus on my issues.

“Ah, I hate hearing you like this. My offer still stands. I can go give Gray a good talking to?”

“Please don’t do anything like that. It’s my fault for lying to him. He was harsh, but I understand why.”

“Okay, whatever. What can I do to help?”

“Stay happy and healthy on your side. Then I don’t have to worry about you,” I said, as I wondered if I would ever not feel a motherly protectiveness when it came to Becky.

“You know what would make me happy? Putting that Weston in his place. All I did was try to be kind, and he returned my kindness with his grumpy attitude,” Becky’s voice was edged with frustration, her words sharper than usual.

“Well, I suggest you take that up with God. We will never see those people again,” I said, my heart aching at the thought. Stupid heart.

“Are you kayaking at least?” Becky asked, changing the subject.

“My first three days here were stunning. I was on the water probably six hours a day, but I think my mood has affected the weather. It’s been raining nonstop for two days straight now. I’m getting insane cabin fever in this van. As soon as it lets up, I think I’ll hit the road.”

“Okay, please be careful.”

“Always.”

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