Chapter 31
Cadi leaned against the edge of the kitchen table, inhaling deeply. The silence that had settled over the house after Eila and Regan left was deafening. She needed a moment—just a moment—to gather her wits before she had to go upstairs and face Gray.
Her fingers pressed against her temples as a sharp ache threatened to creep in. The last hour had been an emotional battlefield, and she felt drained, stripped bare.
Her mind drifted, seeking something—anything—that wasn't the wreckage of her marriage.
Ana.
A ghost of a smile flickered across her lips before it faded. Ana would be back next week.
She missed her—God, she missed her. Ana had been her rock long before Gray ever entered the picture. They had met when they were still in diapers, Ana with her wild curls and mischievous grin, Cadi the more reserved one who somehow always got roped into her best friend's ridiculous plans. They had been inseparable—partners in crime, soul sisters
Her sister from another mister.
It surprised no one that Ana had ended up as an investigative reporter for one of the top media companies in the UK. With her razor-sharp wit and that dry humour that added an unexpected zest to the bleakest of stories, Ana had carved out a name for herself. She had been headhunted early on in her career and had never looked back since.
And then, of course, there was Byron.
The thought of him made Cadi's lips twitch. Byron had gone on to play professional rugby, and last year, he'd been on England's squad for the Six Nations Championship. He was still grumbling about their failure to take the cup, as if personally offended by it.
She could picture him now—brooding over a pint, lamenting England's loss like it was some great injustice, all while being swarmed by women who never quite seemed to realize that he was, for lack of a better word, a total manwhore.
But for all his roguish charm and playboy tendencies, Byron was also irrevocably in love with Ana.
Not that Ana had ever given him the time of day.
Cadi had lost count of the number of times she had watched Byron—strong, confident, used to getting exactly what he wanted—get completely and utterly dismissed by Ana. It was almost comical. Almost.
Ana didn't do distractions. She was always off on one dangerous mission or another, investigating corruption, uncovering scandals, digging deep into stories that other journalists would have turned away from.
And right now, she was incommunicado.
Cadi sighed, her fingers tracing the grain of the wooden table absently. She wasn't one to worry—not really—but when Ana went off-grid, it always left a weight in her chest.
She told herself it was fine. Ana was capable, sharp, always five steps ahead.
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed her now.
Ana had always known what to say. Had always been the one to tell Cadi the truth, unfiltered, unapologetic, and sometimes infuriatingly blunt.
And right now, Cadi needed that.
But Ana wasn't here.
Her gaze drifted longingly toward the large windows, where the garden stretched beyond, a wild tangle of bare branches and frost-covered grass. She hadn't had the time for it in ages. It had once been her escape, the only place she felt truly untangled from the chaos of life.
For a fleeting moment, she wanted to step outside, to disappear into the quiet of the garden—if only for a little while.
But she knew she couldn't.
Besides, it was freezing.
With a sigh, she turned away, straightening her shoulders.
With one last glance at the patio doors, Cadi straightened.
She needed to talk to Gray.
And no matter how wrecked she felt, no matter how much anger and betrayal still churned in her gut—she owed him that.
Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed for the stairs.
Taking a deep breath at the landing, expecting to find Gray in the master bedroom. But when she pushed open the door, the bed was empty.
Frowning, she checked the walk-in closet—nothing.
A flicker of unease crept in as she padded toward the bathroom, pushing open the door. No sign of him.
She checked the guest bathroom next, then hesitated in the hallway, trying to think where else he could have gone.
Gray, where did you go?
Then it hit her.
Cadi made her way toward Tomos's bedroom, nudging the door open quietly.
And there he was.
Gray was curled up with Tomos in his small bed, the little boy tucked into his side, his tiny hand gripping the front of Gray's t-shirt. Both were fast asleep.
For a moment, Cadi just stood there, something unexpected softening in her chest.
Then, before she could stop herself, a quiet chuckle escaped her lips.
Gray looked ridiculous.
With the odd angle he was twisted into, his large frame crammed into the too-small bed, he looked a bit like a Saint Bernard trying to imitate a mouse. His mouth was slightly open.
Cadi shook her head, sighing.
She reached for the doorknob and gently pulled the door shut, letting them sleep.
With this small reprieve, she decided to head downstairs, make a strong cup of coffee, and start breakfast. It was something to do, something to keep her hands busy.
And maybe, just maybe, by the time Gray woke up, she'd have figured out what to say to him.