Live Without You
Page 12
Finally after settling in at his dad’s, he lay sprawled on the couch with his eyes closed, resting. He’d refused the bed. Dumb move, now that he thought about it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a headache like this one. He drifted to sleep, the peace and quiet lacking the beeping and whooshing of hospital machines lulling him into oblivion.
His mother stood over him, smiling down at him. She looked healthy, whole, and the happiest he’d ever seen her. She stroked the hair back from his forehead with a gentle touch that spoke of love.
“Mom!” he said in surprise, sitting up.
“Ezra, my son,” she cupped his chin in her hand, tilting his face up to meet her eyes that crinkled at the corners. “Thank you,” she said, a choke in her voice. “You always took such good care of me. I love you so much, my Ezzie.”
His throat convulsed as he tried to swallow the lump that had risen in it. “I love you too, Mom.”
She stared into his eyes for a moment more, love reflecting back at him from her brilliant blue ones. Like sapphires, his father had always said. “I know,” she whispered. Then she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Ezra’s eyes flew open, his chest heaving, causing shards of pain to spread through his torso. Piper stood above him, smiling at him.
“Piper,” he said, voice still ragged with the emotion of his dream. “She was there. Here. She—” His voice cracked. “She thanked me.”
Piper knelt by the couch, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Who did, Ez?”
“My mom.” He could feel moisture sliding down his face but he didn’t care. She’d thanked him. It was okay. He’d given his best and that was all she—and his heavenly Father—had ever wanted. Somehow it had taken this to truly cement it in his head. He told the dream to Piper.
“Aw, Ez . . .” Piper smoothed the hair back from his forehead with a soft hand, much the way his mother had done in his dream and when he was a little boy. Understanding softened her features and unshed tears sparkled in her eyes. More tears fell from his own and he pulled her into his arms, ignoring the pain and burying his face in her neck, overwhelmed with the emotion.
It was okay. No matter what anyone might try to tell him, he was not a failure. It was okay. . . .
Piper sat with Ezra’s arms around her. The enormity of his dream wasn’t lost on her. She hugged him tighter and he flinched. She immediately pulled back, remembering his healing ribs.
“Oh! Sorry!”
He shook his head, lightly wincing as he rubbed gentle fingers over his side. “I'll be so happy when these are healed.” He paused, staring at the carpet before looking at her, emotion darkening his eyes again. “We’re so blessed.”
She nodded, too choked to make a response.
“I love you, Piper.”
“I love you too, Ezra.” She smiled up into his handsome face made no less so by the fading marks and bruises. “Can we pray together?” she asked.
He smiled. “I’d like that.” They clasped each other’s hands and bowed their heads, praising their heavenly Father for His grace and love, basking in the assurance that come what may, they would never have to live without Him.
T he late afternoon sunlight flickered through the trees, shedding golden light on the group below. A brisk early November breeze blew lightly, chilling the air and softly rustling the crisp leaves of autumn.
Adorned in a simple cream dress with a tulle skirt and a bouquet of sage and earthy-toned flowers and succulents in her hand, the bride was escorted to the greenery-bedecked arbor by her future father-in-law. After dropping a kiss on her forehead, he placed her hands in his son’s, who was standing under the arbor and manfully struggling to hold back tears. Dressed in a gray waistcoat replete with a sage-colored pocket square and tie, the groom took his bride’s hands.
She met his eyes through the sheer veil, complete love and trust shining from them. Likewise, promise shone from his. The minister led the couple through their vows as they pledged themselves to the other, till death parted them. To some, those words were a trite repetition of tradition. But to the couple, it held an even greater and deeper meaning than for most, for they both knew death on an intimate level. Both knew that God had drawn them together, mended their broken pieces, and they trusted their future to Him, whatever it contained.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no man separate.” The minister intoned before turning to the groom. “Son, and now for the first time, you may kiss your bride.”
The groom grinned and gently lifted the veil over the bride’s head, her burnished brown hair and the lace tiara tucked into it glinting in the sunlight. Cupping her face with both hands, he captured her lips in a sweet kiss. The crowd clapped wildly and there were few dry eyes.
“Till death do us part,” he whispered as he pulled away.
“Till death do us part,” she repeated, smiling up at him.
Then, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm, the groom escorted his wife back down the aisle, both of them with smiles fit to break their faces.
Through much pain and heartache, God’s love triumphs over fear, and His grace over guilt.
I never set out to write a novella, no less publish it, but here I am! Yet Live Without You would still be sitting in a basement in a tattered notebook, buried in dust and who-knows-what-else if it wasn’t for the help of some pretty amazing people.
The first thank you goes to my little sis, Isabella. Thanks for listening to me think out loud (aka, ramble endlessly) into the wee hours of the morning, brainstorming with me in the tall grass behind the pond, and most importantly, thank you for the exploding Christmas lightbulb backstory. That was awesome. Love you, Jones!
A huge thank you to Victoria Lynn for paving the publishing way for me, for the beautiful formatting job, all the advice, encouragement and publishing help, and most importantly, for being my big sis! I love you!
To my family: thank you for supporting me in all of my dreams. To my older brothers: thanks for all the practice in sarcasm and banter. I owe it all to you. ;) And to my little brothers, thanks for making this writer’s heart happy by begging me to write faster and to let you read the first draft. To Rebecca, my most wonderful sister-in-law: thanks for catching all those final draft errors! It would have been pretty embarrassing for me if you hadn’t. ;)
Another big thank you goes to Allison Tebo, Mary H. and Micaiah K. Alli, thanks for being my honorary big sis and quite possibly my biggest supporter! I wuv you! Mary, thank you for always being there for me in all things, and for believing in me and my dreams. What would I do without my practical Mary to steady my flighty soul? Micaiah . . . darling, thank you for being you! Thank you for fangirling over my story, for all the laughter shared, and most of all, for being my ‘bosom friend!’ I hope to one day soon see one of YOUR stories published! Love ya, my girlie!
Thank you to my alpha readers, Faith Potts, Hosanna K., Jesseca Wheaton, Maddy C., and Micaiah K.! Your fabulous feedback gave me the confidence I needed to push me to publishing, and gave LWY a hefty dose of much-needed polish!
To my beta readers, Addy S., Chloe W., Ivie Brooks, J.D. Sutter, Kate Willis, Lilian S., Lisa E., Mikayla H., and Rebecca Grzybowski: Y’all were so incredibly encouraging in your feedback and did an awesome job cleaning up my messy draft. I can’t thank you enough for all the hard work and time you put into making Live Without You the best it could be!
To my proofreader, Bridget Marshall: Wow, girl! What would I have done without you? You did such a thorough job, and if there are any errors left, it’s entirely my fault. Thank you!
A special thank you goes to author and ER nurse, Jordyn Redwood for answering my questions about gunshot wounds and helping me come up with a plausible and realistic scenario.
A shout-out to the Goodreads community is most necessary. You know who you are! I feel so blessed to be part of such a supportive group of people like y’all!
Another shout-out to the Christian Wr
iters’ Encouragement Hangouts Group and the Chatterbox NaNo cabin: what an amazing group of ladies you all are! Thank you for the support, encouragement, prayers, and all those sprints in April and July 2018 NaNos that helped me push through and finish the first and second drafts of LWY! I’m not sure I would have finished if it wasn’t for y’all!
And finally, most important of all, thank you to my Jesus. For putting this story in my head and guiding me as I wrote it. For rescuing me out of my darkness and bringing me into Your marvelous light. And for silencing the voices in my head and singing Your love over me. All glory and honor to you, precious Savior.
Sarah Grace Grzy
Author bio
Sarah Grace Grzy is a voracious reader, and if it weren’t for this crazy thing called 'Life,' she’d be tempted to spend all her days in front of a wood stove, book in one hand, coffee mug in the other. A lover of learning, she finds enjoyment in many things and has more hobbies than she knows what to do with. Sarah Grace is a freelance web and graphic designer, and when not working, spending time with her ever-growing family, or reading, she can be found painting, playing the piano, or fangirling with her sisters and friends. Sarah Grace inhabits the State of Great Lakes, and wouldn’t want to live anywhere else—unless it meant she could have a baby penguin, in which case, she’d gladly move to the South Pole.