Chapter 46
Next day
Cadi found the note waiting for her when she woke up.
Gray had left it on her pillow, written in his steady, deliberate script.
Cadi,
I was thinking' about my mam today. About the things she did right, the things she couldn't do, the things she carried.
She loved me. I know that now. Even when she couldn't get out of bed. Even when I wasnt the best of sons. She loved me through all of it.
And I watch you with Tomos, and I thank whatever fucking miracle brought you into his life. Into mine.
He's got you. That's the difference. You make things solid for him in a way I never had growing up. I don't have to worry that he'll feel the way I did, that he'll wonder if he's loved.
He knows. Because of you.
And I think about you, too. More than I should. More than I say. I am more than a little obsessed.
You know I already sleep beside you, but sometimes, I wonder if you dream of me like I dream of you.
You keep the nightmares at bay. Always have.
Maybe one day soon, I won't have to wonder.
-Gray
Gray stepped into the locker room, the scent of liniment and sweat filling the space as he grabbed a protein shake from his bag.
He wasn't surprised when Byron strolled in, massive as ever, grinning like he owned the world.
And, to be fair, he almost did.
Byron had become a fucking sensation.
His Instagram had millions of followers, his face plastered on billboards for top rugby brands, his contract offers coming from the best clubs in the world.
And yet, he still walked in like the same loudmouth from the old days.
"Gray fucking Callahan," Byron grinned, throwing a towel onto the bench. "Thought you'd dropped off the face o' the earth, lad."
Gray snorted, shaking his head. "Somethin' like that."
Byron flopped down, stretching out his long legs. "So. Heard ye had a bit of a domestic."
Gray sighed. "Jay-sus."
Byron chuckled. "Hey, the streets talk, lad. And by 'streets,' I mean Ana, who's been swearing about ye for the past week."
Gray rubbed his face. "Aye. Figured she'd have opinions."
Byron grinned. "She had enough opinions to fuel a bloody war, mate. Thought she was gonna break your door down just to kick yer arse."
Gray smirked. "Wouldn't be the worst punishment, considerin'."
Byron shot him a sideways look. "She wasn't wrong, though."
Gray grunted. "Aye, I know."
It was mid-morning, and only the die-hards were here-those who lifted, trained, or sparred as part of their routine, not a resolution.
Gray walked to the bench press, exhaling as he finished his set, racking the bar with a metallic clang.
Byron, towering over him with his usual shit-eating grin, pulled his earbuds out. "Not bad, lad. Y'still got it."
Gray sat up, grabbing his towel. "Yeah, well, gotta keep up with the young ones."
Byron snorted. "Lad, I've seen grandads in better shape than half the league."
Gray chuckled, rubbing his face. "Aye, well, wouldn't mind bein' able to walk without feelin' like I've been hit by a bus."
Byron grabbed a weight, rolling his shoulders. "So. How's it goin' with Cadi?"
Gray sighed, stretching his arms. "Slow."
Byron raised a brow. "Slow? Thought you were livin' back in the house?"
Gray nodded. "Aye. But it's... different. She's not pushin' me away, but she's not pullin' me back in, either."
Byron frowned. "She still angry?"
Gray shook his head. "Not angry. Just..." He exhaled. "Cautious. She's slow to trust again. I get it. But I wish it'd move faster."
Byron grinned, cracking his neck. "Alright, mate, listen. As someone who has successfully bedded half of Europe-"
Gray groaned. "Christ, Byron."
Byron held up a hand. "Let me finish. As someone who has successfully bedded half of Europe, I feel uniquely qualified to offer shite advice on the matter."
Gray chuckled despite himself. "This should be good."
Byron grinned. "Women, right? They love a grand gesture. Big speeches, stormin' into airports, doin' the Titanic pose on a ferry-"
Gray gave him a flat look. "Aye, 'cause nothin' says I'm sorry for bein' a dick like standin' on a boat screamin' I'm the king o' the world."
Byron shrugged. "Mate, worked for Leo."
Gray shook his head. "Christ, ye're an idiot, boy-o."
Byron grinned. "Aye, but ye love me for it."
Gray rolled his eyes, checking the time. "Come on. Pub?"
Byron grinned. "Now ye're speakin' me language."
"The Lion & Harp." had been their hangout from the time they could legally drink.
A proper old-school pub, no nonsense, no frills, just good pints and better stories. The kind of place where the seats were worn, the air always carried the faint scent of beer and wood polish, and the regulars had probably been coming since the dawn of time. The pints were always poured right, and the bartender knew your life story.
Gray and Byron pushed through the doors, the air filled with the smell of beer, old wood, and history.
Behind the bar stood John, who'd been there since they were teenagers. The same John they had once tried to sneak past with a fake ID, failing spectacularly.
Byron grinned as he leaned against the bar. "Alright, John. Get the heroes of Manchester a pint, will ya?"
John didn't even blink. "You're a menace, Byron."
Byron clutched his chest. "That's Mr. Menace to you."
John sighed. "Same as always?"
Gray nodded. "Aye, mate."
John poured two pints, sliding them over without a fuss. "Try not to break anythin' this time."
Byron grinned. "No promises."
They took their drinks to a corner booth, settling in.
Byron looked thoughtfully at Gray. "So. the gas lady-Vanessa."
Byron took a long sip, licking the foam from his lips, before fixing Gray with an uncharacteristically serious look.
Then, he pointed a finger straight at him.
"Ye need to have a clear conversation about her."
Gray groaned. "Fuck's sake."
Byron didn't drop the look. "I mean it, lad. Ye think things are gettin' better, but if ye don't settle this, it'll keep sittin' there-like a bad tackle that bruises deeper every time ye take another hit."
Gray frowned. "I told Cadi already."
Byron shook his head. "Nah, nah. Ye told her, but did ye talk about it?"
Gray went quiet.
Byron smirked. "Exactly."
Gray exhaled slowly. "Ya think it's still in her head?"
Byron leaned back, crossing his arms. "Mate, women gnaw on these things like a fuckin' bone. And if she doesn't say it, doesn't push about it, it just means it's sittin' somewhere at the back o' her mind, waitin' to be pulled out at the worst moment."
Gray ran a hand through his hair. "Fuck's sake."
Byron took another sip of his pint, then smirked. "Besides... ye do realise yer sufferin' from a serious case of blue balls 'til this is sorted, right?"
Gray gave him a flat look. "Christ, Byron."
Byron grinned. "Tell me I'm wrong."
Gray rubbed his face. "I hate how often ya make sense."
Byron patted his shoulder. "Better get it out in the open before she does clock ya over the head."
Gray sighed. "Aye. Ya might be right."
Byron grinned. "Course I am. That's why they pay me the big bucks."
Gray snorted. "They pay ya to play rugby, not for yer shite love advice."
Byron shrugged, grinning. "Same thing, really."
Despite Byron's absolute bollocks of an approach to relationships, he was probably right.
It was time to clear the air.
Gray took a sip, then glanced at Byron, tone casual.
"So... Ana's back."
Byron froze mid-sip, then lowered his pint with exaggerated ease. "Aye. I am aware."
Gray raised an eyebrow. "That's all ya got to say?"
Byron shrugged, focusing on his drink. "What else is there?"
Gray smirked. "Ye knew she was back ."
Byron grunted, swirling his pint. "Maybe."
Gray chuckled. "Aye, ya did. Because she's the one who spilled on my drama, didn't she?"
Byron took another long sip, then muttered, "Nosy cow."
Gray laughed outright. "Aye, well, I'd be more surprised if she didn't."
Byron sighed. "What does she know?"
Gray leaned back, watching him closely. "Plenty. She knew ya had a thing for her back in school, too. We all did."
Byron nearly choked on his beer. "Fuck off."
Gray grinned. "She did. Even then. Just didn't take ya seriously."
Byron muttered, "Aye, well, that makes two of us."
Gray narrowed his eyes. "Ya usually love talkin' about Ana. What's changed?"
Byron tensed, then exhaled. "Nothin'."
Gray didn't buy it.
Byron was usually loud, brash, and unbothered, but this? This was an evasive Byron.
Gray tilted his head. "Ya bombed spectacularly back then. What, scared to try again?"
Byron grunted. "It ain't like that."
Gray let it sit for a moment. Then, he smirked. "Aye, sure it ain't."
Byron didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he checked his watch and stretched.
"Right, last round's on me."
And just like that, the conversation was over.
For now. Gray shook his head.