The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (96 page)

God, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I didn
’
t do anything to warrant the blessing of Avery. She
’
s a treasure that I didn
’
t even know I was looking for. You just gave her to me. Your grace is so overwhelming. I hope I never become complacent enough to take it for granted
—
to take
her
for granted. Please don
’
t let me screw this up.

“
Thank you,
”
I manage, unsure what else there is for me to say. She kisses me in response. When she pulls away, she releases my hand and reaches for the letter.

“
So, what do you want to do with this?
”

“
Oh. I was hoping you could hang onto it?
”

“
Of course,
”
she assures me with a nod.

“
Thank you.
”

“
You don
’
t have to thank me. I
’
d do anything for you.
”
She turns and tosses the envelope onto the coffee table, as if it contaminates the space between us and she can
’
t stand to have it in our laps a second longer. I breathe a sigh of relief at the same time that my stomach growls. For the first time in days, eating doesn
’
t seem like such a bad idea.
“
Hungry?
”
she asks.

“
Yeah.
”

“
Do you want to go out? The others are still at Cooper
’
s. We could get a pizza.
”

“
That sounds amazing.
”
My mouth is salivating at the mere
thought
of delicious food.
“
I haven
’
t had a meal I
’
ve enjoyed in days.
”

“
I know the feeling.
”
For a moment, the pain of being without each other seems to resurface, but she shakes it off and then stands.
“
Let me just go change and then we can leave.
”

“
Change? What? No way,
”
I insist as I join her on my feet. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her back to my front, and kiss the top of her head.
“
You
’
re wearing my new favorite shirt.
”

She giggles and my heart swells at the sound.
“
Well, since it
’
s your
favorite
…
I suppose I
’
m ready.
”

I let her go so that she can grab her purse. When she returns to my side, our hands find each other as if they have a mind of their own, and we lace our fingers together. As we head to my car, I
’
m amazed at how fresh the air feels in my lungs. It
’
s as if I
’
ve entered a new world. It
’
s not even that things have gone back to normal, back to the way they used to be
—
now it
’
s better. I know Ave and I haven
’
t seen the end of conflict, but now we have proof that we can survive it.

Finding parking in Old Town is a nightmare, but I don
’
t complain. Avery prays for parking mercy, which always makes me chuckle, and we eventually find a space a couple blocks away from our destination. As we walk, hand in hand, a few people recognize me and call my name as we pass. It always makes me feel so weird, knowing that some of them are CSU fans who watched me play on television today. It's nothing new, but to me, when I'm on that field, the only thing I'm thinking about is the game
—
not the cameras or the fans I can't see from the sidelines.

“
O
’
Conner
—
glad you decided to show up for the second half!
”
someone calls out from an outdoor table at a restaurant along the way.

“
Hey, Big Red! Way to bring it home!
”
someone shouts from across the street.

I seriously wonder if I would be half as recognizable if I had brown hair
—
plain ole brown hair
. I wave self-consciously as I shake my head. I
’
m relieved when we finally make it to Cooper
’
s, until we walk in and I realize that the place is full of patrons who are indulging in college football, some of which have probably been around since the big rivalry game. Henry happens to be at the hostess station as we head toward the bar and he stops us to have a word.

“
Rough first half, kid. Shame about that fumble. You sure did turn things around in the third quarter.
”

“
Thanks,
”
I mutter. The disappointment I felt just after I dropped the ball washes over me again. I wish he hadn
’
t mentioned it. I
never
fumble the ball
—
well, I guess that
’
s not true anymore
.

“
Hey,
”
says Avery as she gives my hand a squeeze.
“
Think of it this way: not only should we never go to sleep angry at each other, you should never play football when we
’
re in the middle of a fight. Lesson learned. We
’
ll never do it again.
”

I smile down at her and then kiss her forehead. She
’
s right
—
at the end of the day, I got my girl back, and that matters more than anything else.

“
Alright! Big Red and Little Red
in the house!
”
I follow the sound of his voice, unable to hide my grin. Jackson
’
s on his feet and when the rest of our group spots us, they
’
re up, too.

Someone at the bar yells,
“
C-S-U!
”
and all the patrons respond with a hearty,
“
RAMS!
”
But I know the excitement coming from the table we approach isn
’
t about the game.

“
I heard there was some sort of celebration going on,
”
I tease as we pull up a couple more chairs.
“
Something about med school applications?
”

“
Old news,
”
says Beck, clapping me on the back.
“
My best friend is back, and he brought his girl with him.
”

“
I hope he brought his appetite, too, because I
’
m about to order a whole lot of pizza,
”
Jackson declares.

“
Bring it on, man. Bring it on.
”

Paster Doug started a new series this morning about finding contentment in any season of life. As soon as he introduced the topic, I couldn
’
t help but smirk and shake my head.
Finally
, when I think I
’
ve managed to settle into the crazy decision to break up with Addison, a sermon series that might be helpful. I could say that this would have been helpful a
long
time ago, but I won
’
t. Something tells me that this isn
’
t a coincidence and that there will be new things for me to learn over the next few weeks. Today, he
’
s definitely put me in a contemplative mood.

When service is over, a bunch of students are quick to make lunch plans. It
’
s nice to have the larger crowd back and I look forward to heading out with them no matter where they decide to go.

“
Hey.
”
Addie plops down in the seat beside mine and leans against my shoulder, tapping my knee to fully capture my attention.

“
Hey,
”
I reply, smiling down at her. Her proximity is refreshing and I relish in the fact that we can be so close to each other without either one of us getting upset about how far we are from where we someday hope to be.

“
Interesting sermon topic, yeah?
”
I laugh, not because what she
’
s said is particularly funny, but because her sarcasm is spot on and I know I
’
m the only one who can appreciate it the way she does. She joins me, laughing softly, and suddenly I feel far from content. For a second, all I want to do is lean over and kiss her
—
like
really
kiss her.
“
Think God is trying to tell us something?
”
she asks, pulling me from my wanton thoughts.

I don
’
t take her question lightly. I
’
ve learned this much: just because He doesn
’
t
tell
you why, doesn
’
t mean there isn
’
t a clearly
defined
why. My smile fades in appreciation of the truth behind what I'm about to say.
“
I think God is always trying to tell us something. It's just a matter of if we're listening or in a place to be able to hear whatever it is He has to say.
”

She offers me a nod as her smile softens.
“
Thank you.
”

“
For what?
”
I ask, admittedly confused.

“
For listening. For reminding me to do the same.
”

Silence settles between us as I
’
m not sure what to say next. I
do,
however, want to continue our conversation, so I spit out the next thing that comes to mind.
“
Are you content these days?
”

A part of me instantly regrets asking the question. Selfishly, I hope her answer is
no.
The way things are between us is temporary. I don
’
t want her to get so comfortable while we
’
re apart that she doesn
’
t want to get back together in the future. At the same time, I also want her to say
yes.
I want her life to be full and every second counts. Plus, over the last several months, I
’
ve learned to embrace moments of contentment. It
’
s during those times that I
’
ve felt the most at peace. It
’
s during those times that I remember all that I have to be thankful for. It
’
s during those times that I realize that while I might be content, that doesn
’
t mean that I don
’
t want
more
—
which is perfectly okay.
Being able to admit that makes me feel like I
’
ve come a long way from where I started.