Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Gray
One second, I’ve finally pushed Courtney—and the noise she’s making out front—from my head.
The next, my world’s being rocked by Faye.
“Red,” I warn again, straightening and stepping away from her. “It’s late.”
I just want her to drop this shit, to let me protect that small kernel of hope I’ve finally managed to cobble together, to trust in that before I tear myself wide open and admit what I’ve done, how I’ve fucked up, all I’ve ruined.
But one look at her face tells me that’s not going to happen.
“Baby—”
“No baby”—she slices her hand through the air—“please just talk to me.”
I waver.
Because I want to. God, I want that so fucking bad.
Because I know she’ll be my Faye, soft and sweet and kind as she listens, but I just…can’t.
Because if she looks at me like—
I grit my teeth together, shake my head, cutting my greatest fear off in its tracks. “Later, Red. Right now, I’m exhausted, baby. I need sleep.”
I watch her waver before she sighs quietly.
Relief ripples through me.
She’s going to let this go.
Thank fuck.
But when she speaks, her words are soft…and completely eviscerate me. “And if we get in bed right now, you’ll fall asleep?”
I force myself not to flinch.
No, of course I won’t fucking sleep.
I’ll lie awake, convince myself that blip of hope is a lie.
That things will go wrong.
That I’ll ruin another woman.
“Right,” she says, her voice turning fierce as she plunks her hands onto her hips. “We’re talking about this now. We’re sorting it now.”
My temple begins to throb.
“I need you to talk to me, Gray—”
My name on her tongue doesn’t go straight to my cock this time.
Nope.
I may as well be a eunuch right now—or diving into an icy fucking pool, my balls retracting into my body.
“—not because you owe me answer, but because I’m tired of seeing you hurting, honey. Because you’ve held me as I cried and given me a safe space to be me and helped me realize that I don’t have to be alone. Please trust me enough to talk to me, to be your safe space right back.”
Her words are fair.
And so fucking tempting I almost give in.
In fact, I open my mouth, preparing to tell her everything when there’s a huge crash against the front door.
And just like that, the past crawls up my throat and clamps its fingers around my windpipe, smothering the words. Instead what comes out is—
“Aren’t you supposed to be shy and sweet and retiring?”
The asshole.
Confirming exactly what I’ve always known—that eventually I’ll do this to Faye too, eventually I’ll turn on her, hurt her.
And the evidence is right there in the flicker of pain crossing her face.
Only, Faye doesn’t back down. Her cheeks go pink. Her chin lifts. Anger flashes through those deep brown eyes. “Don’t you dare go there, Grayson Roberts,” she snaps jabbing a finger into my chest and scowling at me. “I’m a nice person. I like you—”
“You love me,” I can’t help but interject.
(And yeah, I’m fully aware this isn’t the right time to bring that back up.)
Her lids close and I can practically hear her counting to ten.
Then she peels them open and looks—okay, glares—at me.
But her tone is almost heartbreakingly gentle.
“Please don’t do this.”
I open my mouth to ask do what but she keeps talking.
Probably for the best, because her next words highlight how supremely stupid that would have been.
“Don’t discount my emotions,” she says more firmly.
“Don’t try to gaslight me into thinking that what you’ve been dealing with since I came into your life isn’t going to be—or maybe already is—a huge gulf between us.
” She exhales, gentles again. “You’ve been perfect, Gray.
Freaking wonderful from that first moment at the hospital and ever since. ”
“So what’s the problem?” I ask edgily.
“You’re keeping a huge part of yourself back.”
“That’s not fair,” I say even though she’s not wrong.
Her brows just lift in challenge.
“I’ve been more honest with you than I’ve been with anyone else in my life.”
Her head cants to the side and she studies me for several heartbeats before she murmurs, “I believe that.”
“Then drop this shit and—”
“I can’t. I can’t.” Teeth nibbling into her bottom lip. “I want to give you an out, want to let this go. But I love you, Gray and I can’t stand by and watch you tear yourself apart—”
“I’m not—”
“Honey, I saw your face when Courtney came to the baby shower, when she watched us through the window in the kitchen, even when you locked her out tonight.”
“Red,” I rasp, heart seizing.
“So you can’t possibly think I’ve missed that you thought I was going to flip out when you turned and saw me there at the bottom of the stairs, that it almost seems as though you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop and things to go bad between us.
” An exhale, her voice gentling. “Or that I’ve forgotten you told me no woman in your life has ever stood up for you. ”
I close my eyes.
“And I definitely haven’t forgotten how you react to the old stories in the news or the videos online or the way you look at me sometimes, as though half-expecting me to disappear.”
My pulse is pounding through my veins, through the tightly clenched muscles of my jaw.
“I’m here,” she says, settling her hand above my racing heart, my lids flying open. “I see you. I love you.”
I want to say those words back.
But they won’t come.
I can’t do anything except stand there, frozen, as terror grips my insides.
“Why are you so afraid of her?”
“Courtney is—”
“Not Courtney. You. Why are you afraid of her?”
“I told you. We’re toxic together and—”
“No, Gray. What are you feeling when she shows up?”
Bile begins to burn the back of my throat.
Fuck, I don’t want to think about this shit. “It doesn’t matter. Courtney and I are done.”
“Are you?”
I grit my teeth together. “I think I’ve made that pretty damned clear, Red.”
“Have you?”
“My attorney’s filed the signed papers,” I grind out. “The only thing that’s left is for a judge to sign off and the divorce is final. I don’t think I can make it any more clear.”
“That’s true enough.”
“Good,” I mutter. “That means I can finally fucking stop dealing with this shit and go to sleep.” Unable to look at her, I undo the buttons of my shirt as I march into the closet, yanking the material off my arms when I’ve finished and tossing it into the hamper.
I do the same with my slacks and socks then pull out a pair of sweats and tug them on.
Even though I’m annoyed, I expect Faye to have crawled into bed.
Because I want to hold her.
Want to smell her.
Want to feel the shame go away, the wounds heal over, the goodness come back into my life.
But she’s still standing where I left her, arms crossed around her middle, legs locked, eyes laser-focused on me.
Fuck.
“Let’s go to bed, Faye.” I can’t even pretend it doesn’t sound like I’m begging.
Her lips part on a shaky exhale. “Faye?” she asks. “Not Red?” A beat. “Not baby?”
I rub at the ache in my temple. “It’s late. I’m tired. We’ll figure this shit out later.”
“When?”
“Later,” I repeat.
“When?” she repeats.
And I know she’s just doing what she thinks is right.
But the shame inside me is twisting tighter and tighter, the talons of the past digging deeper and deeper.
So tight it’s threatening to burst free and incinerate everything in its path. So deep it feels as though I’m bleeding out.
“If we can figure this out—”
That ball of tension explodes out of me, destroying everything in its path.
“Will you fucking leave it alone?” I snap. “I already have one annoying, lunatic of a woman who won’t let shit go in my life. I don’t need another one.”
Her breath catches, those gorgeous brown eyes filling with tears.
“That’s how you want to play this?” she whispers.
I can’t answer her, can’t do anything but stare at her knowing this was always going to happen, that I was always going to do this to her…and eventually, she does what she was always going to so.
She walks out the door.
And the worst part, is I just stand there and watch her go.