CHAPTER 19
KILLIAN
Grayson mumbles something behind me as I park my ass on his sofa. My eyes do a quick sweep of the open-plan living room and kitchen, and I try to keep my expression neutral.
It’s a mess in here.
The curtains are drawn, casting the space in shadows. There are empty beer and whiskey bottles littering the kitchen island and the trashcan looks like it hasn’t been emptied all week.
I reach for the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table. “You know, this ain’t gonna help you.”
Gray shrugs. “It might if I drink enough.”
I twist the lid off and gulp the brown liquid straight from the bottle, the burn lighting a path in my chest as it glides down my throat.
If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, I guess.
“Why are you here?” Gray asks as he takes the seat I assume he’s occupied all week.
“Because I am the only person in this town that understands the way you feel right now.”
I have been exactly where Grayson is right now. Hell, I was here only a few months ago after I stormed out of the bar after laying eyes on my girl again for the first time in years.
Grayson has been not-so-secretly sleeping with Liv, Savannah’s best friend, and a few weeks ago, she was in a car accident.
She was okay, escaping with only minor injuries, but after watching his best friend die only a few years ago, Grayson didn’t handle the thought of losing the only person he’s allowed to get close to him in years.
Long tory short, he went radio silent on her, shutting her out at a time she needed him the most. Liv went back to London a few days ago and Gray has been locked away in his house ever since.
His usually tamed beard is overgrown. His hair is wild, standing up in every direction as if he’s been running his fingers through it over and over again, and he’s dressed in sweats with some very questionable stains on them.
This is his rock bottom.
Grayson’s entire body sags in defeat as he slumps back against the sofa. He looks small. Nothing like the gruff man that people tend to steer clear of in public.
It’s fucking sad.
“I don’t know what to do, man,” he all-but whispers.
“I can’t tell you what to do, Gray, but I can give you some advice.”
I might’ve imagined it, but I swear he sits up a little straighter. “Go on.”
I suck in a deep breath. “First of all, do you love her?”
Surprisingly, there isn’t an ounce of hesitation before he nods his head. “I do.”
“Good,” I respond. And then I admit something that I’ve never admitted to anyone. “Don’t do what I did. Don’t let her walk away without a fight. It’s the biggest mistake I have ever made, and I have been paying for it ever since.”
Hearing the words come out of my mouth stings more than I thought it would. Despite the physical, gut-wrenching pain I felt after Daisy had left, I was stubborn. I was so sure that she’d come back eventually. I refused to believe that she would throw away all the years we spent together.
Denial is the first stage of grief. And grief is exactly what I experienced. I was grieving for the life I thought I was about to start with the love of my life. For the future we had planned out so meticulously together.
I lived in denial for far too long.
Knowing what I know now, the fucking saddest part about it is, Noah was there with me through every stage of my grief. Denial, anger, depression and finally acceptance, and all along he knew that she was never planning on coming back. Not to me, at least.
There is every possibility that I could be giving Grayson advice that will ultimately break his heart. He could go to Liv, only to learn that she doesn’t love him. But at least he will know. He won’t be stuck in this limbo like I was for the next four years.
“She’s already gone, Kill. I can’t fight for someone that isn’t here.”
I stare at him a moment, shaking my head in disappointment. “She’s not fucking dead, Grayson. As long as she’s breathing and walking this earth, you can fight for her.”
He’s doing exactly what I did.
He’s giving up.
“I’ve tried contacting her. Her number is dead,” he argues.
Frustration bubbles up inside of me and I stand.
“Then try harder. Her best friend lives five minutes from your front porch. Stop fucking hiding like a pussy and do something about it.” I point at the bottle on the table, “You’re not going to find the solutions to your problems in the bottom of that bottle. ”
With that, I turn and walk to the front door, about done with this pity-party. Grayson’s voice makes me pause. “Kill?”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Maybe you should take your own advice. Daisy may have left, but she came back.”
With a tight smile, I give him a brisk nod and leave, letting his words bounce around in my head all the way home.