69. Then
SIXTY-NINE
then
After Grayson and I stripped out of our wet clothes and got back in bed, I spent the last few hours of darkness struggling to find sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face when I told him I loved him. The way panic flared in his eyes. The rigid set of his jaw.
What if he doesn’t love me ?
My stomach cramped, twisting in pain. I rolled away from Gray and pressed my palms into my abdomen until the nausea died down long enough for me to drift into a shallow slumber .
It only felt like a few seconds passed before I started to sink into my well-worn nightmare. Before it could pull me under, I snapped my burning gaze open and scooted back into my spot at Grayson’s side. I focused on his warmth to steady my breathing, then let myself imagine him singing to me.
The next time I opened my eyes, light glowed on the horizon. Feeling forlorn, I wrapped my arms around my knees and stared out at the water.
I had to face the possibility that Grayson may not have the same feelings for me that I had for him. At first, I convinced myself he was just working up the nerve to tell me. But weeks had passed.
Maybe, with everything he’s going through, he needs someone in his life for support, and I just happen to be the closest one. It’s possible to need someone without loving them. Maybe he would have gotten attached to any girl he was dating when he found out about his dad .
The thought left me cold. But the fact remained—no matter how he felt about me, I loved him . And we were hardly in the proper setting for a potentially catastrophic conversation.
I’ll feel better after a cup of coffee. And I should call my mom. Hearing her voice will help.
I had to shake off my funk before I faced the Strykers. Whatever issues Gray and I had, I wouldn’t let them ruin what might have been his father’s last Christmas.
I dressed in another pajama-sweater combo, then stuffed on socks. The impulse to bolt blurred through me. I held still and stared over at my clogs, remembering the way I used to flee whenever my anxiety surged. All the times I had almost lost Gray before we had even begun.
If I’d allowed those instincts to rule my life, I would have missed out on so much.
Even if he didn’t love me…
Even if he never would…
On my way downstairs, I did my best to extinguish my dread. There really wasn’t a need for it, anyway. Nothing had changed.
Emotionally, our relationship remained right where we left it at Thanksgiving. And, practically, we were making huge strides. A new apartment, his upcoming graduation, and promotion. We both seemed happy and motivated.
So why did I feel low-grade panic buzzing beneath my diaphragm?
The overcast morning didn’t help my mood. The snow had melted away, leaving the ground muddy and the sky a sunless, pale gray. The gloom even turned the ocean from its usual aqua to an anemic blue.
I frowned out at the view, ignoring the sparkling Christmas tree and its array of presents en-route to the kitchen.
While I flipped on the lights and set to work with the espresso machine, I wondered if I was using cooking to mask my apprehension about being part of the Strykers’ lifestyle. Their fifty-million-dollar townhome and country estate felt massively overwhelming to me. Every fixture and furnishing seemed like a reminder of just how little I had to offer.
But the kitchens, by virtue of their practical purpose, were less opulent than other spaces. I could count on them to have the familiar, mundane things I grew up with—trash cans, garbage disposals, paper towels.
They also offered a way for me to contribute. I couldn’t buy fancy gifts or pay for extravagant meals… but I could bake cookies and make waffles and wash dishes.
I couldn’t decide if the whole thing was a healthy coping mechanism or toxic self-deprecation even as I went about organizing the ingredients I needed to whip up pancakes.
My hands shook while I lined everything up on the island. I glanced over my shoulder at every small sound, expecting something ominous each time.
Why did I feel so unglued? I had been fine for nearly two full days, and now the entire situation suddenly triggered me ?
Ridiculous , I told myself, blowing out a trembling breath. You’re being silly. There’s no reason to be this upset .
I heard another noise, one more distinct than the others. Whirling with my hand clutched over my heart, I came face-to-face with yet another strange man.
Only… he wasn’t so unfamiliar.
For a moment, I thought it must have been the way he also resembled Mr. Stryker. Light hair, a strap of blond facial hair. Rounded features and sharp ocher eyes.
Then, he smiled—a pointed grin just like Ted’s.
It’s Gray’s cousin Daniel, you lunatic , my brain jeered. Get a hold of yourself .
Unfreezing my lips and forming a fake smile was the best I could do. “Oh,” I tittered, sounding squeaky. “Hello.”
He didn’t move, but his eyes flicked down my body, then back up. Silence stretched over us for a beat too long. My heart hammered against my ribs, urging me to run away immediately.
But I ignored the impulse again, fighting panic with everything I had in me. “You must be, um, Daniel. Or Danny? I’m Ella, Grayson’s girlfriend.”
Our eyes met. The force of his loathing sent me back a step.
“You know,” he said, “I didn’t believe it was really you until right now.”
The second I heard his voice, I knew . My lungs splintered. Terror curdled my stomach. A wave of dizziness swirled my thoughts into soup.
Seeing my distress only widened his smile. “So, we meet again, little princess .”