“Hey!” she chirps, squeezing my arm like we’re old friends. “I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.”
I blink, caught off guard. “Proud?”
“Yeah!” Her smile widens. “You’ve been around so much more lately. I keep seeing you at events, helping out with graphics, even coming to rehearsals. It’s inspiring.”
“Oh.” I smile, though it feels a little stiff. “Thank you.”
“I mean, it’s really good for Gray, you know?” she continues, voice dropping slightly like we’re sharing a secret. “He deserves someone strong in faith after everything he’s been through.”
My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”
Her eyebrows lift, a little too knowingly, as if I should already be in on the gossip. “Oh, you know…his past. What happened with Claire.”
I freeze. “Claire?”
Her eyes widen just slightly—fake surprise, the kind people use when they’ve said too much but don’t actually regret it. “Oh…I just assumed he’d mentioned her.”
I shake my head slowly, my voice coming out softer than I intended. “No. He hasn’t.”
She hesitates for half a beat, then shrugs like it’s nothing, though the glint in her eyes says she’s enjoying this. “Well, I’m sure he will eventually. Just…it was a lot. I’m just glad he’s found someone who’s firm in their faith. He deserves that after everything.”
The words land sharp, like a compliment with a hook in it.
I try to keep my expression neutral, but my mind is spinning.Who is Claire?
I want to ask her, but she’s already breezing on, oblivious—or maybe not—to the thousand questions burning a hole in my heart.
“Anyway,” she chirps, her voice too bright, patting my arm like we’re girlfriends swapping secrets. “I’m really happy for you two. You’re exactly what he needs.”
The emphasis lingers, heavy with judgment, as if she’s the authority on what Gray does and doesn’t deserve.
I nod numbly as she waves and disappears back into the crowd, leaving me frozen in the aisle, her words echoing in my ears.
What happened with Claire? Who is she? Why hasn’t he mentioned her?
Strong in faith. Grounded.
Is that how he sees me? Is that what he thinks I am? Or worse...is that what he needs me to be?
I turn back toward the stage, searching for him, but he’s gone. The tech team is coiling cables, chatting quietly as they pack up. I scan the side aisles, catching glimpses of familiar faces, but not him.
I weave through the aisles, nodding politely at people I pass, my heart thumping harder with each step. He has to be here somewhere. My feet carry me instinctively to the backstage entrance, where I hesitate just long enough to collect myself before pushing the door open.
The sound of metal strings being plucked echoes softly down the hallway. I follow the noise until I find him in one of the side rooms—guitar on his knee, fingers brushing across the frets absently. His jaw is clenched, browsknitted together, like he’s wrestling with something invisible.
He doesn’t notice me at first. He’s muttering under his breath, barely audible but thick with frustration. His hand slides up the neck of the guitar, fingers pressing down hard enough to make it squeal off-key. He curses under his breath and starts again.
“Gray?”
His head snaps up, eyes sharp with surprise before they soften. “Hey…didn’t expect you back here.”
I take a hesitant step forward. “I was looking for you. You disappeared pretty quick after service.”
He nods, setting the guitar down against the wall. “Yeah. Just needed a minute.”
I move closer, crossing my arms to keep my hands from shaking. “You alright?”
He forces a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
