63. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER...
He got his license six months ago, and after saving up a few grand, he bought this car.
I wanted to get him something fresh off the lot, but he insisted.
Perry and his wife have loved having Gray stay with them, becoming something of a family.
My mom and I go over there a few nights a month for dinner—when I’m in town, that is.
I fly private, taking jobs as I want to and operating as CEO offsite most days at OAT.
I haven’t spoken a single word to my dad in over a year now, even when he and my mom got divorced, and I stood by her side at the court proceeding.
I spent so many years desperate for his approval and love, and to this day, it hurts.
But I’ve come to accept that these things happen, not just to me.
Plenty of people are rejected by their loved ones for something as simple as being different.
Our therapist hears about it often during our weekly Zoom meetings.
“Because you do know where we are going. Make a left in two miles.”
He glares at me. The new haircut he’s sporting only accentuates his sharp jaw. All the bleached strands have been cut off, and his natural color makes his eyes startlingly bright. If looks could kill… “Like I know how far two miles is…”
“I’ll tell you, sweetheart.”
“Or you could just tell me now.”
“Nope. It’s a surprise.” I smirk.
Those pretty blues roll up into his skull, and he grumbles something about brat and gonna get it later under his breath. I will gladly take whatever he gives me later. Hopefully it’ll be over the kitchen counter in our new house.
I’ve thought long and hard about this, realizing I can do what Gray asked me while still being with him. But now that it’s happening and we are heading in this new direction, I’m worried he’ll be upset.
Gray doesn’t handle being surprised well, especially with things that touch on his old wounds.
For example, when I demanded that the owner of Court Syde pay Gray the money they would’ve paid for his art had he sold it to them, we argued for a solid two hours before agreeing that I wouldn’t act for him without asking first.
That's probably why he chose this old car with a permanent check engine light on the dashboard.
“Okay. I definitely know where I am. Why are we back here?”
Since Gray moved in with Perry and Marie, he hasn’t set a single foot back in his hometown.
Between his job and visiting me on his days off, we haven't had the time or reason to.
I purposefully had him get off the highway ten miles back so we could take the backstreets and draw out the suspense longer.
God, am I doing the right thing? Or will this ruin our entire past year?
I told him all those months ago that I’d show him. And I have been. Every damn day I am showing him how I choose him at every turn.
When I had to stand beside Grant O’Connell and give up my dad to the media sharks, I was choosing Gray.
When Alex wanted me to go on our company retreat to the Bahamas during the week Gray was having a rough time at work because one of his co-workers is a bigot, I refused and stayed home.
I also sent a threatening note to said co-worker, explaining he’d lose his job and not to fuck with what’s mine.
In a polite way, of course.
And I made sure to be there every other instance where Gray needed me. I even flew back early from one of my jobs in New Mexico because he couldn’t figure out how to use his ATM card, and the bank was closed that Sunday.
I am not playing games, and I am not losing him again.
He’s…everything.
“That left is coming up,” I tell him instead of answering.
His fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles blanching. “Please tell me,” he whispers. “Please.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
“I could never track down your parents’ will. I tried. When their storage unit got sold, it must’ve been with their things. The storage company wouldn't tell me who bought it either.”
“Hunter…”
“And I know you’ve been looking too. At houses, I mean.”
Gray blinks rapidly as his lashes grow wet, never taking his eyes off the road. “I thought we agreed that it wasn’t time for that yet.”
“We did,” I soothe. “And this isn’t…we don’t have to act on anything. But…”
He makes the left turn, right onto Chrysaline Street, and then pulls over. Killing the engine, he stares blankly ahead of him, a thick tear sneaking out of the corner of his eye. “People live there,” he whispers. “A family. That’s their home now.”
I peel his hands off the wheel and hold them. “I bought it six months ago.”
A tiny breath. “What?”
“I bought your house and it's in your name.”
“H-How? Why? They…those people…”
“Were looking to sell anyway. They bought the house at an auction when you turned eighteen. The taxes went too long without being paid, so the property went up for sale. But the Haddens are expecting a new baby and want something bigger than three bedrooms. I bought it before they ever listed it.”
Finally, Gray looks at me. His lower lip wobbles, and I can't help but reach out to touch it. “You bought it?”
“For you. For us.”
“You bought my home?”
“I did.”
His face crumbles as an ugly sob rips from his chest. I pull him to me, the center divider digging into my stomach, but I don’t care. He clings to me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. “I can go home. I can finally go home ,” he cries, tears dripping down my shirt collar.
“You can go home, sweetheart. It’s yours. No one will take it away again.”
“I love you. Thank you. Thank you .” He holds me tighter, crying hard.
“Do you want to go inside?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Let’s go inside.”
He slowly lets me go, turns over the engine, and drives down the block to his childhood home.
I open the door for him as he shakily climbs out of the car.
Instantly, he snakes his hand into mine, squeezing my fingers so hard they pop.
I let him take it in for a second, watching as his eyes bounce all over from the front door, to the yard, to the window on the second story.
“Here’s the key,” I whisper, sliding it into his free hand.
He takes a single step, then turns to face me and launches into my body. Curling into me, Gray rubs his face into my chest, pressing little kisses that make all the stress over this fucking house worth it. “This is the proof. This. You’ve shown me.”
I chuckle, rubbing his back. “Just had to buy you a house?”
“No,” he sniffles, looking up at me, “you know me well enough that I wouldn’t want to make a home anywhere else. And now, I belong here. All because of you. You gave me somewhere to belong.”
“It’s only fair I return the favor, baby, because you’ve been my home from day one.”
He kisses me hard and fast. “Okay. Let’s go inside.”
“Still think it’s too soon?” I tease.
“Fuck no. I’m already picking out paint.”