Did he know I’d be here today? The thought is absurd, but it sticks. How else could he speak so directly to my heart?
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them away. I’m not here to cry in front of strangers. Still, something in me softens.
When the message ends, heads bow in a simple, unhurried prayer. A piano hums softly beneath the words, each note settling over the room like falling snow. I close my eyes and let the stillness wash through me. The quiet feels like more than silence—it feels alive.
“Amen,” the room echoes, and the music swells again, lifting the moment into something I can’t quite name.
Opening my eyes, I catch sight of Gray on stage, guitar in hand, leading worship with that same intensity I saw earlier. My lips curve into a smile. I get to see him again at lunch, just us.
With the final note, Gray’s voice rings out, warm and familiar, “Go out and love the world today, y’all!”
The band fades away as people begin to stand and exit. I gather my things, following the crowd toward the lobby. But as soon as I step out into the open space, a creeping realization hits me. We never decided where to meet after service.
Scanning the room, I spot a cozy couch tucked away in the corner and sink down, pulling out my phone. I check my messages. Nothing. My thumb hovers, tapping the screen anxiously. The lobby empties around me, but my phone stays stubbornly silent.
A nervous knot twists in my stomach. What if he forgot?
Just as I rise to leave, my phone rings. Gray’s name flashes across the screen.
I answer immediately, heart pounding when I hear his voice. “Where are you?”
I glance around, searching for the right words. “I’m by the couches near the entrance.”
Then I see him, rushing toward me, that big, bright smile lighting up his face. Without hesitation, he wraps me in a hug so warm and real, I almost forget where we are.
“Hey you,” he murmurs against my hair.
Chapter 8
Gray
God, I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to get in the way of whatever You’re doing in her life—or in mine. But I can’t lie…I want this. I want her to be part of the story You’re writing for me. Help me trust You with it.
I don’t want to let go. There’s a soft floral note to her that I remember from New Orleans, like wildflowers and sunshine, and I’m not sure I’ll ever stop craving it. Holding her here, in my church, feels surreal. Like some quiet miracle.
I slowly pull back just enough to look down at her. Her eyes meet mine, wide and a little vulnerable, and my heart tightens.
“You’re here,” I say, voice low, almost a whisper. “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.”
She looks up at me and smiles. For a moment, everything else falls away. No worries, no past mistakes, just this.
I shift, trying to act casual but feeling like I’m barely holding it together. “So, what’d you think about the service?”
She playfully slaps my arm. “You didn’t tell me you were the lead singer.”
I shrug, brushing off the compliment like it’s nothing. “Eh, we all take turns.”
Inside, I’m proud, but I don’t want to hype myself up. Not yet at least. Right now, I just want to focus on her.
“I did like it. I was surprised, but yeah, I really did.”
I smile, if only she knew how much that means to me.
“Your voice, it’s… something else. And you have this presence on stage. Like you own it.”
I shrug again, trying to play it cool. “We all do our part. Nothing special.”
She chuckles, but it feels lighter than before. Like she’s letting her guard down just a little.
