52. GRAYSON
52
GRAYSON
“You want me to leave her.” The realization hit me like a physical blow, a rock dropping in my gut.
The bitter fall winds whipped around us as Ivy’s mother and I stood by the lake behind Hunter’s house, where we’d come to talk alone after she’d overheard the tail end of my conversation with my brothers. Just my luck she’d taken a wrong turn after using the restroom. Hunter’s staff had been sent home, and security was too busy manning outside threats to stop her from ambling near Hunter’s office.
Ivy’s mother gazed out at the lake, her face filled with a mixture of sorrow and resolve. “She and I talked about forgiveness,” she began. “I knew you two cared for each other before, but I just assumed…” She trailed off, her worried eyes meeting mine. “I appreciate everything you’ve done to protect her. I do. But…” She paused, the wind tousling her hair. “Once she found out about the role you had in her father’s death, I never imagined she’d want a future with you.”
I nodded, hiding the gut-wrenching pain behind a stoic facade. “I understand.”
Conflicting emotions rippled across her face like a skipping stone in water. Guilt, appreciation, then pity.
“I’m sorry, but you’re not healthy for her. You’re a CIA operative. An assassin. And despite your unwitting role, you killed Ivy’s father.”
My throat constricted, making it difficult to swallow. It seemed every time I turned around, there was a new obstacle preventing me and Ivy from having our happily ever after. I thought the biggest obstacle was both of us coming to terms with my role in her father’s death.
But now, evidently, my love for Ivy risked taking her other parent away from her, too.
And that was a price tag I could not make Ivy pay; I would not become a wedge between her and her mother.
“I understand,” I repeated, shoving my fists into my pockets. I kept my face neutral, disguising the pain exploding through my heart. “Would it change your mind if I retired my role as a CIA operative for good?”
Ivy’s mother regarded me.
“No,” she finally answered, “it wouldn’t.”
My gut sank, even though I had expected as much. In the fleeting moments when I’d dared to imagine a life with Ivy, our future never included dangerous, top-secret missions spanning the globe. Instead, my visions were filled with the simple joys of being with her—bringing her favorite coffee from the shop she adored each morning, walking together to her work, sharing dinners with my brothers, and spending nights tangled in each other’s arms. In truth, I was finally prepared to let go of the hatred that had taken root in my heart during the dark hours following my father’s murder. The endless pursuit of vengeance against those who preyed on the innocent and destroyed lives without regard for human life had been surpassed by a far more powerful desire—to love Ivy with every fiber of my being.
But that life of hers…it had to include her mother.
I clenched my fists, going through a Rolodex of responses. That Ivy was a grown woman and could make her own decisions. That if Ivy found out her mother had a role in ending our relationship, she’d come to resent her.
But none of that felt respectful, and most importantly, I could tell that none of it would change her mother’s mind.
“I love her,” I said, gazing out at the horizon. I watched as a lone ship drifted further out to sea, where, soon, it would disappear from view.
Just like Ivy might soon disappear from mine.
“And if you love her”—her mom turned toward me—“you’ll let her go.”
I had been through some seriously painful missions in my life. I had been stabbed, shot, beaten, and more. But nothing came close to the pain burning my soul alive at the realization that after everything Ivy and I had been through, this might be the final nail in our coffin.
I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to breathe without Ivy, but just before her mother walked off, her eyes widened.
And she froze.
“Mom!” Ivy’s tiny frame marched up to us from Hunter’s back door.
How long has she been there, and how much did she overhear?
“How could you say that to him?”
IVY
“I love you, and I know you’re coming from a good place, but you’re meddling in my life!” I cried, my voice rising with each word.
“Ivy…” Mom started, but I cut her off.
“Just like you meddled in my life when Dad died, keeping the details of his death a secret from me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
I softened my tone. “I know you have good intentions, Mom. But you know as well as I do that the circumstances around Dad’s death were anything but straightforward. Dad was the one who set it into motion, and Grayson was following orders from his boss. Who turned out to be your boyfriend at the time,” I reminded her pointedly.
If she needed a villain in this story, we had one.
“At the diner, you were the one that talked to me about letting go of the past,” I reminded her.
“I thought you were struggling with forgiveness, not trying to talk yourself into being with him. Accepting Grayson’s role in your father’s death is one thing, but being with him is another.”
“Forgiveness is just a word if it’s not backed up with action, Mom. If I truly forgive him, then I forgive him for what he did in every way a person can be forgiven. Saying I forgive him, but cutting him out of my life for the very act I claim to forgive him for isn’t forgiveness at all.”
Mom’s chin rose. “I know he protected you, but he killed your father! What mother would ever feel comfortable with the relationship between you and him?”
“I’m not asking you to be comfortable. I’m asking you to accept my decisions. You might not agree with them, but you have no right to step in and tell the man I love to leave me.”
I walked up and slipped my fingers through Grayson’s. Normally, Grayson’s face was a statue of resolve, but I could see how much her words rattled him. He was hesitant to return my embrace.
“For once in my life, I’m choosing me. I’ve put everyone else first in my life, and I’ve always put myself last. When Pete started mistreating me, I stayed, because I felt bad for hurting him. After Dad died, I spent so much time trying to save Grams that I literally almost died trying. I could go on and on with examples, but the point is, I’ve always put everyone else’s needs above my own, and right now, what I need—what I want—is to be with Grayson.”
Mom’s nostrils flared. “And if I think this is a mistake?”
“I’d never want to cut you out of my life, but if you want to be part of it, you need to respect my decision to be with Grayson.”
Mom studied the resolve on my face, perhaps gauging my unwavering commitment to the man who had literally taken a bullet for me. I hoped she would come around, because the truth was, I was terrified to lose yet another person I cared about. But if that happened, it wasn’t my choice; it was hers.
Mom’s rigid stance crumbled, her shoulders sagging as the frustration drained from her.
“Of course I want you in my life; I love you, Ivy. I just want what’s best for you.”
“Good.” I smiled, hiding the part of me that was terrified she’d walk away.
It might take time to fully embrace our relationship, but at least she’d chosen to try and accept it. For that, I was grateful.
“Grayson!” Hunter’s voice boomed from the mansion behind us. “Barry’s here.”
Barry Mansfield. The man who might hold the key to everything. Or the tipping point between triumph and disaster.