Chapter 50
Gray's breath hitched as he slipped into bed, his body chilled from the late shift. He curled his frozen feet against Cadi's warmth, and she let out a sharp shriek, kicking at him half-heartedly before twisting to swat at his arm.
"For God's sake, Gray!" she hissed, pulling the duvet tighter around her. "Your feet are like ice blocks!"
He chuckled, his voice rough with exhaustion. "You're warm."
She grumbled but let him pull her closer, her hand resting against his chest as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. It was small moments like these that made everything feel normal again.
Their mornings had found a rhythm too. Coffee brewing, the sounds of Tomos thudding down the stairs, muttering about training. The battle for the best parking spot was a constant, Gray's larger-than-life attitude always turning it into a full-fledged competition.
"Get out of my spot, woman," he grumbled one morning as she pulled in right before him.
Cadi smirked as she unbuckled. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law, Gray."
Gray scowled, shaking his head as he parked at a distance and jogged toward her. He looked around before stealing a kiss just before she could escape, smirking as she pushed him away.
Their love for rugby was another thing that kept them connected. Tomos was rugby-obsessed, and both Gray and Cadi were die-hard fans of the All Blacks, even as they supported Wales. For Gray's birthday, she surprised him with jerseys for both of them—black, sleek, and embroidered with his name and number on the back. He had stared at them for a long moment before dragging her into a deep, searing kiss.
"Best gift," he murmured.
It all led up to the day of the World Rugby Tournament at the Millennium Stadium. The atmosphere was electric, the stadium pulsing with anticipation. They had secured seats in the VIP box, courtesy of Byron, who was already halfway through a pint by the time they arrived.
When the All Blacks stormed the field to perform the Kapa o Pango haka, Cadi felt chills rush down her spine. Gray stood next to her, arms crossed, eyes locked on the field in reverence. When it ended, he exhaled sharply, muttering, "Fucking brilliant."
They cheered like maniacs during the match, losing themselves in the raw energy of the game. Gray's arm looped around her shoulders at one point, pulling her into his side as they celebrated a try. It felt easy. It felt right.
Back at work, Gray had changed. He was thriving. He had finally started using the money, making improvements, easing the pressure off himself.
And then, one day, Cadi caught Gray and Tomos sneaking a dog into the garage.
She had just stepped out to take the bins when she saw them—both crouched low, moving suspiciously toward the side door with a large, shaggy creature padding behind them. The dog was enormous, an indeterminate mix of breeds, with a patchy coat of brown, black, and white, and one ear that looked like it had been bitten clean off in a past fight. He looked up at her with the most soulful brown eyes she had ever seen, filled with cautious hope.
"What the hell is that?" Cadi demanded, crossing her arms.
Gray froze mid-step, turning ever so slowly. Tomos, who was holding the dog's makeshift leash, let out a guilty cough. "Uh, Mum, meet Scrap."
"Scrap?" she repeated, her eyes narrowing. "Why are you sneaking him into the garage?"
Gray straightened, clearing his throat. "We weren't sneaking."
"You absolutely were." She stepped forward, eyeing the dog warily. "That thing is huge. He's going to shed everywhere. And I am not—let me repeat—not doing poop duty or walking him."
Gray had looked at him and declared, "He's got more street cred than any of us. Me and Tomas will deal with the poop."
Tomos piped up, "But you'll do cuddling?"
Cadi let out a long-suffering sigh. "As and when required."
The dog let out a soft huff, as if sensing the shift in the conversation. He cautiously wagged his tail, still unsure if he was staying.
Gray grinned, reaching down to scratch behind Scrap's half-ear. "Welcome home, mate."
Life was settling into something good.
But not everything was mended.
Regan had tried calling. Cadi ignored it. The wound was still too fresh, too deep.
Callum, however, had reached out in a different way. He sent her a message—brief, acknowledging that they would never go back to how they were. But he hoped that one day, the door would be open if Gray ever wanted it to be.
She had told Gray about it. He hadn't said much, just nodded and changed the subject. But later, as they lay in bed, he muttered, "She never wanted me to know, did she?"
Cadi sighed. "Maybe she thought she was protecting you."
Gray didn't respond right away. When he did, his voice was softer than she expected. "Callum's heading back to Yorkshire?"
"He's already got a job lined up."
Gray exhaled. "Good for him."
They didn't speak about it again that night. But Cadi knew the door had been cracked open just a little, and maybe, just maybe, Gray would walk through it one day.