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Faith

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"You can't?" I choke out.

He shakes his head sadly. Don't know why I expected anything else. This is just one more example of my legendary luck.

"No," Craig says, "I can't give you a good reason to trust me. Because I haven't done anything to earn it."

He's got a point there.

He steps closer, halting Joey's progression towards us and ignoring the second boarding call over the intercom. "I know I don't exactly have the best track record. There isn't a single reason for any girl to ever trust me. I've hurt you, El, and I hate myself for that. And there are … things you don't know. Things that happened in Vancouver, and they could change the way you see me. So no, I can't give you a reason to come with me based on trust."

I nod, getting what he's saying. It hurts, yeah. But I understand. And this is for the best. Maybe now I can finally move on.

Or I could if Craig had stopped there. But he keeps talking.

"But I'm asking you to come with me on faith."

"Faith?" I feel my nose wrinkle in distaste at the word. Faith is not something I have a big stockpile of. I like to have good, solid proof before I do something. It saves against the hurt in the long run.

"Yes, faith. Pure, unadulterated faith. The kind I had when I went to your dorm to find you and found that box in the garbage." I blush and look away from him in shame that I did that. "I know I have no right to ask this of you," he continues, " but if you feel like I do, like I think you do, then please, Ellie, just have a little faith in me. In us."

Oh God, I think I just felt my heart actually explode in my chest. And you wanna know something? It's the most amazing feeling in the world.

"Us?" I breath.

A smile breaks it's way onto Craig's face. I feel a matching one on my own that's ridiculously huge and goofy and I don't even care how silly I must look right now.

"Us," he repeats. He takes my hand in his, my thumb landing next to the tiny little star adorning the inside of his wrist. The mark, the permanent mark I might add, that he got for me.

Joey finally reaches us. He clears his throat to get our attention. "Craig, they're about to close the doors. Are you coming?"

"Are you?" he directs at me.

Life changes in a split second. Accidents happen, people die, hearts break. Things so monumental they alter everything around them, and so small you don't even realize the impact they've had until years later. Then there are those that you watch happen with the full knowledge that everything is about to be thrown into a tailspin and when you wake up the next day you're going to be a different person.

And sometimes it's worth it.

"Why are we still standing here?" I ask him, delighting n the way his whole face lights up and then his arms are around me as he picks me off the ground and spins me around.

"Let's get out of here," he announces once I'm back on my feet. He takes hold of my hand once more and we rush toward the crowd who are trying so hard to appear as if they haven't been watching every second of what just transpired between Craig and me.

The next few minutes are a flurry of hugs and goodbyes and a few tears and then I'm face to face with Ash. She still looks confused by the whole thing, but she smiles at me and hugs me tightly whispering a "Good luck" in my ear before she pulls away.

Then Craig is pulling me towards the gate and I hand my ticket to the flight attendant before we board the plane. We settle into our seats, first class no less, and Craig gives me that look I've been dreaming of for the past year.

"What?"

"Are you really here?" he asks. "You're really coming with me?"

I beam at him. I can't help it. It took too long, and it was hard, but we're here now, together, and somehow it was all worthwhile.

"You bet," I tell him. "You just better be worth all this trouble, Manning."

The slow curving of his lips in that coy, 'You know you want me' way he has turn my knees to jelly and he leans in until his breath is hitting my lips and I shiver. "Oh, I am Miss Nash."

I shove at his shoulder, letting the giddiness of the moment get to me. "You're very arrogant, you know that?"

"Ah, you know you love me for it."

He's right, but I don't tell him that. Instead I lean in, the silence of the moment interrupted by the plane taking off from the runway as my lips touch his briefly. It only lasts half a second, but it's the proof I wanted. Real, undeniable proof that I'm doing the right thing. That Craig was right the whole time. It was never about proof.

It was about faith.

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