27. Chapter 27
Chapter 27
ELLE
I can only describe the rest of the week as pure bliss. Gray, in his quiet strength and unexpected tenderness, became not just a part of my days, but the very essence of them. The children, with their laughter and boundless energy, filled the spaces in between with light and life. God was working in their lives, and it was a privilege to be a part of it.
Now that Gray had his Jeep back he was able to fetch his kayak from home, we’d spent countless hours gliding through the serene rivers and lagoons. Our adventures together had been thrilling. He was the best kayak partner one could ask for—strong, steady, and always making me feel safe .
We’d also gotten into the habit of texting or calling each other after we had gone to our rooms for the night. These conversations became the highlight of my days. The sound of my phone buzzing with a message from Gray would send a thrill through me. Our talks stretched on, spanning hours, yet it felt like mere minutes. We spoke of our dreams, shared our fears (most of them), and laughed over the simplest of things. It was in those quiet hours, with the world asleep, that I truly began to understand the depth of my feelings for him.
He also had this charming way of leaving little surprises at my doorstep each morning. It wasn’t just the gifts themselves but the thoughtfulness behind each one that touched me deeply. An iced coffee paired with a bowl of cherries, a bouquet of vibrant flowers, and a beautifully crafted map of the Atlantic coast, complete with adorable pins to mark destinations. Each gift was accompanied by a simple yet heart-melting note about how he felt about me.
I could hardly contain my excitement when Becky confirmed that she could visit and spend Thursday and Friday with us. I was overjoyed; I couldn’t wait for her to meet Gray and be a part of the summer camp.
On Thursday morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon when Becky bounced into the camp’s dining hall, her arrival timed perfectly as we lingered over the remnants of breakfast. Her presence was like a burst of sunlight, her chocolate brown hair swaying in a long bob, each strand seemingly infused with her boundless energy. Her smile, wide and unwavering, seemed to pull me from my sleepy state. She enveloped me in a hug that felt like being wrapped in pure joy.
“Elle!” she exclaimed, her voice a melody that could brighten the dreariest of days.
As she released me from her embrace, her gaze flitted across the room, and landed on Gray and Weston. I knew Becky had social media stalked Gray as much as she could with the information I’d given her so I watched as she sized him up in person. Her gazed then drifted to Weston who sat slumped over his coffee, his posture a stark contrast to Becky’s vibrancy. Gray nudged Weston, a silent prompt to acknowledge our new arrival. Weston’s head lifted in response .
“Is that the famous Weston?” Becky whispered to me, her eyes twinkling with curiosity and something akin to a challenge. I nodded.
Gray approached us, his eyes welcoming. “You must be Becky. I’m Gray,” he said, extending his hand.
Becky beamed as she shook Gray’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Gray. Elle has told me so much about you.”
“I hope you enjoy it here. Did you manage to sort out all the paperwork with Amy? I’ve asked Weston to co-lead with you. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yes, I sent everything over yesterday. I can’t wait!” Becky said, and I watched her take a deep breath before she approached Weston with a confidence that could only be described as fearless. Curious to see how this would unfold, I couldn’t take my eyes off the pair of them.
“Hi, I’m Becky!” she chirped, extending a hand towards Weston with a smile that could melt ice. Weston’s eyes flickered up to meet hers, a mix of surprise and irritation flashing briefly before he composed himself.
“Weston,” he replied, his voice gruff, the word more of an announcement than a greeting. He glanced at her hand but made no move to shake it, his eyes returning to his coffee as if it held the secret to escaping this interaction.
Undeterred, Becky slid into the seat next to him. “So, I hear we’re going to be co-leading. I literally squealed when I found out that today’s main activity is a treasure hunt. Do you have any ideas on how we could make it even more exciting for our group of kids?”
Weston’s eyes flicked up to her. “It’s fine as it is. The key is efficiency, not unnecessary flair.” He sighed, setting his coffee down with a deliberate slowness. “Look, I’m co-leading with you because Gray asked me to. Don’t expect me to start doing cartwheels.”
Becky’s laugh was light, a clear bell in the quiet morning. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. But a smile wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
Weston’s response was a deeper frown, as if his face was allergic to the very concept of smiling. “I’m not here to make friends,” he said, his tone final.
A smile tugged at my lips. The dynamic between Becky and Weston was like watching a dance between the sun and a storm cloud.
As the day progressed, I noticed how Becky tried her best to connect with Weston. She told him jokes, asked him questions, and engaged him in conversation. Despite her best efforts, Weston remained distant and somewhat rude. He was being so stand-offish. Poor Becks.
During a break, I found myself alone with Becky, and I couldn’t resist fussing over her. “Are you enjoying yourself? Have you had enough to eat? Do you need anything?” I asked, bombarding her with questions.
Becky laughed and touched my arm. “Elle, I’m an adult now. You don’t have to take care of me anymore. I can handle myself,” she reminded me, her eyes twinkling with affection. “Besides, I can see how happy you are here, and it’s all I could ever want for you.”
I smiled, a mixture of relief and thankfulness flooding my system. “Thank you, Becks. I am happy.”
Later that evening, we all gathered around the fire, roasting marshmallows, and sharing stories about the day with the kids. Becky playfully nudged Weston, trying to include him in the conversation. “So, Weston, what’s your favorite color?”
Weston shifted uncomfortably and replied tersely, “I don’t have a favorite.”
Becky, with undimmed enthusiasm, continued to engage Weston, her warm smile never fading. It was evident that she genuinely cared about becoming his friend. But as much as Becky tried, Weston remained guarded and aloof. If I’m honest, I kind of hoped that she’d be able to get him to loosen up, then maybe he wouldn’t be so against me.
I never thought I’d see my sister’s endless supply of kindness run dry, but Weston pushed her to the limit. By the time I said goodbye to Becky on Friday afternoon, she only had negative things to say about him. Oh well.
I had just gotten showered and was ready to leave. Gray was taking me to dinner and then we were going to watch a movie at his place. I’d put on a small amount of makeup. Nothing close to Brenda’s levels. I wore my favorite flowy blue dress and sat on my bed as I waited for him to fetch me.
Three knocks sounded on the door, and I jumped up to greet him. “Hello gorgeous,” Gray said when I opened the door.
I blushed and popped up on my toes to place a quick kiss on his cheek. I held onto his arm and bounced around. It was bordering on pathetic how excited I was for this date.
“Ready to go? ”
“Yes,” I said. I pulled my door shut and locked it.
“This way,” Gray said, directing me towards his Jeep.
Gray took us to a cozy restaurant about thirty minutes from the hostel. He said the restaurant was a favorite with locals because it had great food and tourists were not willing to drive that far. I didn’t complain about the drive because Gray kept his hand on me almost the whole time. Either on my leg or holding my hand.
Once we were seated in the restaurant, I found myself distracted by watching Gray interact with the waiter. His kindness was effortless, his humor natural, and there was something undeniably endearing in the way he spoke. With our orders written down, the waiter left and Gray gave me his undivided attention.
As the candlelight danced across his features, casting a warm, golden hue on his face, he leaned in. “Now that we’re officially on our first date, I have to tell you officially , you look stunning in that dress.”
I beamed with delight, feeling the soft fabric of the dress against my skin. “Why thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself,” I said, admiring how his shirt hugged his shoulders just right.
He chuckled and I soaked up his adoring gaze. “You know, when you wore that dress the first time you came to church, I thought you were a figment of my imagination. You had been on my mind since the day before, and suddenly there you were, right in front of me.”
Curiosity piqued, I titled my head to the side and rested my chin on my hand. “And yet you didn’t seem the least bit confused. You seemed so confident.”
“That’s because I had a few precious seconds to compose myself before you locked eyes with me,” he confessed.
“I did not lock eyes with you,” I protested.
“Oh yes, you did,” he countered, his grin widening.
“Okay, maybe I kind of did,” I admitted, unable to suppress a giggle. “But only because I wanted to out-stare you. And for the record, I won. You looked away first.”
He leaned back, the light reflecting off his eyes, making them sparkle. “Yes, because I was so overwhelmed by the connection I felt with you. Besides, I made up for looking away by chasing you down in the parking lot.”
I felt my cheeks warm at his words. “True.”
“Guess what I purchased today?” he asked.
“What?”
“Let me show you,” he said, mischief in his eyes. He fumbled with his phone for a moment before finding the picture he was looking for. He held it out to me with a triumphant grin.
I leaned in closer, squinting at the screen. “Is that a ridiculous amount of sunscreen?” I asked, unable to suppress a laugh.
“Yup.” His eyes sparkled with excitement. “It’s for all our future adventures. With the amount of sunscreen you get through it felt like a necessary purchase.” His voice was warm and inviting, and I felt a flutter in my heart.
“I love that.” The words slipped out of my mouth. As I handed the phone back to him, I must have tapped the screen as another photo of Gray appeared. It was a candid shot, capturing him in a moment of unguarded contemplation, looking at something just out of the frame.
“What’s this?” I asked, intrigued by the expression on his face.
He took the phone back, glancing at the picture with a soft chuckle. “Oh, Brenda sent that to me. She snapped a picture of me looking at you.” His eyes met mine, filled with warmth and a hint of vulnerability. “Look at this guy... utterly smitten,” he said, his laughter mingling with a note of honesty .
I felt a rush of attraction for him. Gray, with his practical, down-to-earth nature, always seemed so in control, so sure of himself. But in this moment, with his laughter and his admission, I saw a different side of him.
As the waiter set our plates down with a flourish, I marveled at the sizzling steak in front of Gray and the perfectly seared salmon before me. As we shared our meals, we also shared pieces of ourselves, our stories. He talked about his latest project at work, his words measured and full of purpose. I listened intently, chiming in with my own experiences.
In that moment, seated across from Gray in the soft glow of the restaurant, with the clinking of cutlery and the low hum of other diners in the background, everything felt just right. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. It was, in every sense, perfect.
After dinner, we drove back to Gray’s place. It was a three-bedroom, two-bathroom stand-alone house, with a garden cottage in a nice-looking neighborhood. Gray had told me all about how he’d built his business over the years, and I knew this house was the result of his hard work. I wanted to tell him I was proud of him.
“I like your house,” I said, instead .
“Thanks, I’m comfortable here. Bonus is that it’s close to church and the beach. I like your house, too.”
“Mabel is not exactly a house. But I enjoyed giving you the grand tour yesterday. What movie are we watching? Are you up for a girly movie?” I asked.
“My girl, I am up for anything as long as I get to have you next to me on the sofa.”
“That’s a dangerous offer—I may have you watching Sleepless in Seattle or Notting Hill if you aren’t careful,” I teased.
In the end, we picked Notting Hill from his streaming platform. We chose it because shockingly, Gray had never watched it. I’d forgotten how much fun the movie was, and we both laughed at the antics of the roommate character.
I started off just sitting beside Gray, but it wasn’t long before he gently took my hand in his. The way he held it, so carefully, as if cradling something precious, sent a cascade of warmth through me. Every so often, he’d adjust his grip—sometimes interlacing our fingers, other times gently tracing the lines on my palm.
As we sat there, I allowed myself to indulge in a little daydream. The thought of having this simple, sweet connection with Gray on a regular basis. The more I entertained the idea, the more I became convinced that we could really make a relationship work. Eek. The feelings bubbling up inside me were so strong that I even considered forgoing my long-planned road trip.
The credits of the movie scrolled up the screen.
“Come over here,” Gray said, his voice husky.
“I am here,” I said with a giggle, already sitting so close to him that our shoulders touched.
“Not close enough,” he replied with a confident smile, gently guiding me closer until I was nestled snugly against him. His presence felt safe, reassuring.
Gray tenderly brushed my fringe away from my eyes. The simple gesture made my heart flutter, and I instinctively leaned into his touch.
“My heart is literally aching thinking about you leaving soon,” he said.
“Argh. Mine too.”
“Just so we are clear... I’d never dream of caging my Zebra Finch. I don’t expect you to cancel your trip for me. But I was thinking, maybe I could join you for some of your travels? Whenever you set up camp for a while, I could rent a cottage in the area or bring a tent. And of course, my kayak. What do you think? ”
The idea of having Gray with me on my journey made my heart expand with joy. “I would love that,” I replied. “But what about your life here? And your work?”
Gray thought for a moment. “My work is flexible; I can figure something out. Maybe your travel plans could include returning here every now and then?”
I smiled, touched by his willingness to make sacrifices for our relationship. “More time here sounds perfect.”
Gray squeezed me. “You know, you had me at ‘take care of the cam strap’, Elle,” he reminisced.
I squeezed him back as a response, my stomach swooping. I leaned back and searched his eyes, I pursed my lips, trying to read the story they told. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and I couldn’t help but wiggle with anticipation.
“Why are you squirming?” he asked, a playful edge to his voice.
I felt my heart pounding. “I’m waiting,” I whispered, my voice barely audible, “waiting for you to kiss me.”
He smiled, a slow, knowing smile. “Why didn’t you say so?” His hands, warm and reassuring, cradled my face with such tenderness, it was as if he was holding something precious, something fragile. The gentle pressure of his fingers sent rivulets of expectation coursing through me, igniting tiny sparks that seemed to dance beneath my skin. A contented sigh escaped my lips. I could stay here forever.
“Oh, Elle,” he whispered, his breath a warm caress against my skin before his lips finally met mine. He kissed me softly, delicately, as if savoring the taste of the moment. And then, with an urgency that caught my breath, his kiss deepened, grew more insistent. This kiss was a whirlwind of passion that seemed to sweep us away. We poured every ounce of our pent-up yearnings, every whisper of affection, into that kiss. It was a declaration, a promise, a surrender all at once.
As we pulled away, I caught the faintest hint of a smile playing on Gray’s lips. In that fleeting moment, everything seemed possible.
Gray stretched and then hopped off the sofa in one swift athletic movement. He spun and extended his hand toward me to help me up. “Elle, I’d better get you home,” he said regretfully.
I nodded and placed my hand in his. Gray bundled me into his car and took us back to the hostel. Like a gentleman, he walked me to my door.
“Before I forget,” Gray said, “Weston invited us to a barbeque at his place for lunch tomorrow. He recently bought this old house, and his sister convinced him to throw a housewarming of sorts. He invited several leaders. I think we should go. It will give Weston a chance to see how amazing you are.”
“No pressure,” I said with a laugh. “I wish he didn’t dislike me so much. But I’d like to go. I love being invited as a couple.”
“Don’t worry about Weston. He’ll come around. Have I told you how much I enjoyed tonight?” he said with sleepy eyes.
“Yes,” I said around a yawn.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t keep you up too late,” he said as he drew me close and brushed my forehead with a kiss. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
We arrived early at Weston’s house to help set up. He welcomed us and even gave me a tour of his place. The space was huge with all manner of quirky outdated fixtures, but it definitely had potential.
“I hate to ask you Elle,” Weston said. “But I don’t rate my cooking skills to highly, could you put the potato bake together and get it in the oven? I think there are enough ingredients. ”
“That’s why we came early,” I said. “I’d be happy to.”
Weston smiled at me. “The kitchen is all yours,” he said, a casualness in his voice that felt new. “Oh, and Elle,” he continued, sheepishness creeping into his tone, “I know I’ve been, well, skeptical of you. But, honestly, it’s just because I’m really protective of my close friends.” He scratched the back of his neck, clearly out of his comfort zone.
I nodded, understanding.
“But,” Weston added, “Gray is really serious about you.” He paused, giving me a knowing look. “He told me you guys are making plans for the future. That’s cool.”
This was a side of Weston I hadn’t seen before. He seemed more accepting of me, and it helped me shake off some of my nerves regarding him.
Everyone else arrived about half an hour later. A few people I had never met also joined us, and Gray introduced me to them as his girlfriend. I loved belonging to him. We had a blast chatting and laughing about silly moments from the summer camp. Gray stuck by me most of the afternoon.
At some point, Rick found out Weston owned a car insurance company, and the questions started rolling in. “ How many claims do you process a year, Weston?” Rick asked.
“It changes every year, but on average we process about four thousand claims a year. We’re a relatively minor operation, though,” Weston said in his usual quiet but confident tone.
“That’s still a lot, man. Do you ever need to fight with other insurance companies?” Rick asked.
“It happens all the time. We have an entire team who follows up with other insurance companies and individuals without insurance.”
“Cool. Do you ever have to track people down?” Rick asked, clearly excited about this topic.
“We just do a background search on them. Our company actually almost had to do one for Gray. He recently had someone hit his Jeep.”
I froze at the mention of Gray’s crash incident. I didn’t know Weston was involved in Gray’s insurance stuff. Oh, no. Gray must have felt the shift in my posture, because he squeezed my shoulder and rubbed my arm as if he thought I was cold.
“Bummer about your car, Gray,” Rick said .
Gray raised his drink in thanks, and then, to my horror, Rick kept questioning Weston. “How would you track down someone from a hit and run?”
“It’s easier than you think,” Weston said. “We use this app that facilitates background checks. I just type in whatever information we have and the app pulls up every piece of public information available on that person. It will search and find every time they have posted their contact details on a public platform. This includes social media platforms. Even if they have a private profile, people often share their information publicly without giving it a second thought. Like maybe they enter a competition by leaving their email address in the comments of a public post. We are successful ninety-nine percent of the time. Whether we actually get people to pay is another story, but tracking them down is the simple part.”
Damage control. I couldn’t just stand here. I needed to do some damage control. Stepping out of Gray’s embrace, I offered Rick and Weston a drink. They both declined, so I went with another tactic. “Um, Weston, should we go check on the potato bake?” I asked .
“Thanks for being on top of things, Elle, but I set a timer on the oven, so it’s all good,” Weston said with a smile.
I was out of ideas. I wanted to tell Gray, but not like this. The impending conflict that was rapidly unfolding before me, heightened all my defenses. Memories of desperate moments spent trying to avoid confrontations with my dad flooded my mind, and the urgency to escape from this space was almost crushing. My breathing became erratic, and my heart pumped so furiously that it partially blocked my hearing.
Gray, who seemed to have noticed my distress, looked at me with concern etched across his handsome features. He made a subtle move toward me, but I quickly shook my head, signaling for him to stay put. I needed to regain control of myself.
I stumbled toward the closest free chair and sank into it, gripping the edge of the seat tightly. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to focus on the steady rhythm of my breaths as I inhaled and exhaled slowly. I could feel the tension in my body gradually dissipating, my heartbeat returning to a more normal pace.
“I bet you’re tired of talking about this,” Rick said, his booming voice interrupting my focused breathing. “But I’ve never known someone who works in insurance, and I am so interested.”
“Guys, let’s give Weston a break,” I said with a squeak in my voice as a last attempt to put an end to this.
“I don’t mind the questions, Rick. In fact, I can even show you how the app works. Gray let’s search the email address you got from the guy who hit your car. I wouldn’t normally do this, but just so I can show Rick how it works.”
I gasped and everyone looked my way.
“What’s the matter, Elle?” Gray asked.
“Nothing,” I squeezed out of my tightening throat.
“Give us that email address, Gray.” Weston said.
I stared at Weston and shook my head, hoping he would have mercy on me and quit this search, but he only frowned at me quizzically and typed in the address Gray read out to him. I was about to get up and run. But like it was God sent, Brenda’s calming voice interrupted my erratic thoughts. “That was then—this is now.” The instant I allowed that sentence to wash over me, my lungs loosened a fraction, and I took a deep breath. The fresh oxygen helped me to think more clearly, and I just kept repeating in my mind: That was then—this is now .
“See here Rick, it’s just searching. We’ll get all the relevant information on this guy in a minute.” Weston showed Rick his phone screen.
That was then—this is now.
“Oh, look here, the information is coming up. Huh. It’s not a guy. It’s a female aged twenty-four,” Weston said.
That was then — this is now. That little phrase gave me the courage to face what I knew was coming. Lord, help me face this conflict with grace. All I could do now was watch Gray’s reaction and deal with the aftermath.
“Oooooh, Gray, your car got beat up by a girl,” Rick teased.
“There’ll be a name here somewhere,” Weston muttered as he scrolled through his phone. A small part of me hoped that by some miracle my name would not show up.
“Here it is. That’s odd,” Weston said, his eyebrows shooting up. “It says the email address belongs to…” He looked at me and then almost whispered, “to Estelle Knight?”
All eyes turned to me. But I watched Gray’s face. He was laughing like it was a mistake and then he saw I wasn’t laughing. Unsure what to do, I just mouthed, “I’m sorry. ”
Gray’s expression changed from confusion to utter betrayal, and my heart shattered.
Weston tried to contain the awkwardness, so he laughed and said, “Must be a glitch. I’m sure the food is ready. Let’s eat.”
Everyone seemed to take Weston’s lead, and either laughed or stood to get food. Everyone except Gray. He knew.