The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (21 page)

It still completely blows my mind that in a span of twenty-four hours my wide-receiver/close friend/roommate got engaged and my best friend/brother/mentor broke up with his girlfriend of five years. To say that our apartment has been emotionally charged would be an understatement
—
it
’
s like a minefield. I
’
ve literally been tiptoeing my way around, unsure whether or not I want to run into either of them.

It
’
s been two days since Beck and Addie broke up and one day since Claire flew back home to Arizona. Beck
’
s mood has been all over the place, which I can understand. He
’
s grumpy, irritable, and sad; but some moments he is okay
—
laughing, even. Though, I
’
ve noticed, his smile doesn
’
t quite reach his eyes. Jack, on the other hand, has also become quite mopey, which has taken me by surprise. After riding the emotional high that was the aftermath of Claire
’
s acceptance to his proposal, he took a turn for the worst after she left. I thought maybe he
’
d be able to keep himself together for longer.
I was so wrong
. I think back to Avery
’
s comment about how this might be the longest summer break, ever, for him and Claire
…

Yeah
—
and me, too
.

With our semester over, our schedules are different from the routine we
’
d settled into over the last five months. Now, I can
’
t be sure when either of them will be a home or at work. I know that I shouldn
’
t avoid them
—
because they can both use a friend right now, and I happen to be the most emotionally stable
—
but it
’
s just a bit overwhelming. It
’
s not just their moods I
’
m weary of; my thoughts have also got me feeling pretty anxious and confused.

It hasn
’
t escaped me that I
’
m not only the one person in the apartment who isn
’
t emotionally distressed, I
’
m also the only chicken-shit. Jack and Beck might both be miserable, but their misery is derived from risks they were willing to take in the name of love
—
risks that pale in comparison to the one that I haven
’
t even been willing to seriously entertain. The more I think about it, the more I realize how ridiculous I
’
ve been.

Beck is right. I need to ask Avery out. Who am I kidding? Beck, Jack, Claire, Addie, and Sarah are all right
…
I need to go for it.

The thought crosses my mind like a song on repeat. The more I think it, the more I realize how desperate I am to actually do something about it. Then reality sets in. I set aside all the things she makes me feel, I set aside the memories that prove how compatible we are, I set aside the fact that I know she likes me just as much as I like her, and I realize
why
I
’
ve never told her how I feel. My lack of bravery isn
’
t because I
’
m afraid of rejection, it
’
s because I
’
m afraid of what might happen to her beautiful, pure, soul if I ask her to be in a relationship with me and I bring along all my baggage
—
baggage that could swallow her whole.

I know the past is in the past. I know that I
’
ve been redeemed and saved by the grace of God. I know that I
’
ve been forgiven and set free
—
but I just can
’
t shake the feeling that the darkness and the emptiness that I
’
ve been rescued from is still a part of me. It
’
s my history, my testimony, and it can
’
t be forgotten; my actions can
’
t be erased. She deserves better. She deserves the best.

And yet, I wonder
—
shouldn
’
t she get to make that choice?

I throw my sheets off of me as I get out of bed. I need to get out of my head.

I drag my feet out of my room and I rake my fingers through my thick waves, out of control after a night of sleep. As I make my way into the living room, I spot Beckham sitting up at the breakfast bar, hunched over something. I yawn and try to mentally prepare myself for any of the possible moods that he might be in.

“
Hey,
”
I mumble as I pull a carton of milk from the fridge.

“
Hey,
”
he mumbles back.

I can
’
t quite tell how he
’
s feeling from his one word greeting, so I take a chance and try and strike up a conversation as I reach in the cabinet for a bowl and a box of cereal.
“
What are you doing?
”

“
Journaling.
”

I stop mid-pour, my breakfast temporarily forgotten as I actually look at what he
’
s doing. Sure enough, there
’
s a journal sitting in front of him and he
’
s got a pen in his hand. In the three years that I
’
ve known Beck, I
’
ve never seen him write in a journal. In a notebook, yeah
—
in the margins of his Bible, sure
—
never
a journal.
“
Since when do you keep a journal?
”
My question is no longer an attempt to decipher his temperament. My curiosity is genuine, whether he
’
s in a bad mood or not.

“
Since now.
”

“
Care to explain?
”

He pulls his glasses off with one hand before running the other down the length of his face as he frees a sigh.
“
I was at work yesterday, restocking the shelves with a new shipment. I came across these journals and something told me I should buy one. So I did.
”
He shrugs self consciously, returning his glasses to his face.
“
I figure
…
I don
’
t know
—
I figure I should document this season of my life. I imagine there will be a lot I need to pray about and process; plus, I thought I
’
d kind of use it to write to Addie. This whole
boundaries
thing
—
I just need someplace to write down the things that I can
’
t talk to her about right now.
”

“
Wow.
”

“
What?
”
Beck mutters.
“
You think it makes me a sissy?
”

“
What? No!
”
I insist, shaking my head to emphasize my disagreement.
“
I think it
’
s a really good idea, actually.
”
His shoulders relax and he nods as he closes the pages of his new leather-bound journal.
“
Look, I don
’
t know if I
’
ve told you this yet or not
—
but what you
’
re doing? I think it
’
s really brave. I admire you for owning up to your feelings and doing something about them.
”

A small, halfhearted smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he stands.
“
Thanks.
”
He turns to leave and then stops, facing me once more while flashing me a smirk.
“
You know, you might try it
—
owning up to your feelings and doing something about them.
”

He doesn
’
t have to explain what he means. I know he
’
s talking about Avery. I continue pouring my cereal, pulling my eyes away from him.
“
Yeah. I don
’
t know about that.
”

“
Come on, Gray
—
what are you so afraid of?
”

I set the cereal down and meet his gaze once more.
“
Nothing. I just know she deserves better.
”
I don
’
t offer up any more of an explanation. Beck knows more than anyone about my past, but even he hasn
’
t heard everything. Yet, regardless of what he doesn
’
t know, he knows enough to be able to see that I
’
m right. Still, instead of agreeing with me, he shakes his head.

“
You
’
re a good guy, Gray. It doesn
’
t matter who you
’
ve
been
, it matters who you
are
. Avery is like a sister to me; I love her to death
—
we all do
—
and I wouldn
’
t be standing in your corner if I didn
’
t think that you would take good care of her. Besides, there
’
s one giant flaw in your reasoning.
”

“
What
’
s that?
”
I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

“
You might think she deserves better, but she wants
you
—
you
are her version of better.
”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, daring me to challenge him, but I can
’
t think of anything to say. His smirk returns as he claims his moment of victory.
“
I
’
ve got to get ready for work.
”

I watch him walk away and allow his last comment to sink in. He has a point. Or, at least, I want to believe that he has a point, because I want to latch onto any excuse that allows me to throw caution to the wind and just pursue her and see what happens. But I
’
m so far from perfect; God knows, I
’
m so far from perfect.