Chapter Thirteen
Milly
I am standing at the counter, cutting potatoes for dinner.
It feels weird to be holding a knife, because Mom and Greg always locked them up.
I was never allowed to cook, but I learned in college.
I wanted to be self-sufficient, so I took a class.
I told Mom and Greg that it was to make sure I’d be a good wife, but really, I just didn’t want to starve to death.
Last night, we came home, and I promptly went to sleep.
I was mentally exhausted. I woke up today between Grayson and Adam.
They had their arms wrapped around me and were snuggled close.
I didn’t have a nightmare last night, which is great.
I’d like to think that getting my memories sorted has helped.
Today is also the first day I haven’t hyperfocused on Molly. It’s getting easier to not miss her as time passes. She’s becoming more like an imaginary friend, rather than someone I’ve lost. I didn’t lose her because she never existed.
Something prompts me to look up, and I see Grayson and Adam standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching me. They’re calm and happy. “Hey,” I say. “Why are you staring at me?”
“Just looking,” Grayson says with a soft smile as he walks around to wrap his arms around me from behind. I giggle when he kisses my neck, but wiggle to back him up.
“Don’t distract me unless you’d rather me have fewer fingers,” I say. He grabs my chin and turns my face to kiss me. When he pulls back, I grin at him. “What’s up with you?”
“He’s trying to be normal,” Adam says. “What are you making?”
“Chipotle chicken with roasted potatoes and asparagus,” I say.
I move the potatoes from the cutting board into a mixing bowl before grabbing the can of chipotle peppers in adobo sauce.
I don’t know if this is authentic, but it’s cheap and delicious.
I start by cutting the peppers open and gently removing the seeds.
I can handle spice, but the seeds weird me out.
“Gray,” I say as I start finely chopping the chipotle peppers. My goal is to basically purée them. I suppose I could just put them in a food processor, but that’s just another dish to wash.
“Yes?” he asks from behind me.
“I’m not going to stab myself. You don’t have to hover,” I remark, and Adam laughs.
“I’m sorry. I’m trying,” he says, kissing my cheek and going around the island to sit with Adam.
“Why do you seem nervous?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I suppose I expected you to spiral after meeting your father.”
“I think that as I introduce myself to things, it’s like it’s straightening everything out inside my head. At first, it was hard, but then everything started to unwind and make sense,” I tell him. “Exposure therapy.”
“There’s an idea,” Adam says.
“What, expose me to my triggers?” I ask.
“Mhmm. Throw you into the dark and help you find your way out.”
“Pretty sure that’s Gray’s kink,” I say, and Grayson chuckles. “But as much as he says he likes to trigger and scare women as he fucks them, it must be the others, because he doesn’t with me.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Gray asks with a frown.
“It means you mentioned it, but you haven’t gone anywhere near it,” I explain. “Tell me right now you haven’t done that shit with Hope.”
“I’m not going to be interrogated in my own home,” Grayson quips before getting up to leave. His childish response distracts me, and I fumble the knife. When I drop it, my first instinct is to grab it.
“Shit!” I hiss, dropping the knife when it slices into my palm just below my thumb. Adam jumps up and comes around to me as Grayson turns back to see what happened. “Ah, fuck. That had peppers on it still.”
“You’re okay. Let’s run some water on it,” Adam says as he takes my hand and walks me to the sink.
“Holy fuck, that burns,” I whine.
“I’m sure it does,” he says. “It’s pretty deep. You’re going to need some stitches.”
“That was dumb. I don’t know why I did that,” I sigh.
“Because you struggle with emotion regulation,” Grayson mutters, like it’s an insult.
“What the fuck is…” Adam starts to ask Grayson, but I interrupt him.
“It’s fine,” I say.
“It’s not fine, Milly. That was…” Adam argues.
“It’s okay,” I say, grabbing the towel off the counter and wrapping my hand. “I’m going to go down to urgent care and have them look at it. I’ll have my phone.”
“You want me to come with you?” Adam asks.
“I can…” Grayson starts to say, but my loud voice cuts him off.
“You can go fuck yourself,” I shout at him.
“If you think you are just going to walk out of this house and…”
“I don’t believe I asked your goddamn opinion, Grayson,” I bark. “We are done. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but I am done.”
“Milly, don’t…” he starts to argue.
“I’ll let you know when I am headed back here to get my stuff,” I tell Adam. “I’m going to get a hotel room, but I’ll make sure you know where and I’ll call Alania.”
“Okay. Be careful,” Adam says softly. He doesn’t touch me, and neither does Grayson when I walk past him. I go to the door and step into my shoes before hooking my arm in the handle of my bag to pick it up. Before I can get out of the door, Grayson gets to me.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap when he gets close. I spin around, and I’m stunned to see that he has tears in his eyes. “For the fucking record, it was an accident. If I wanted to cut myself, I would have done a much better job.”
“Milly, I’m…”
“Save it,” I scoff. “I don’t fucking care. You can’t do shit like that and then just apologize.”
“You can’t just walk away every time we get into an argument, Milly,” Grayson says with a sigh.
“Watch me,” I say before turning and pulling the door open.
I go out to my car and get in without Grayson trying to stop me.
I know I am overreacting right now. I know this is not how I should be handling things, but if I don’t end things, I will only get hurt worse when he realizes there are better women—like Hope—out there that can please him.