25. Chapter 25
Grayson
Harlow’s fingers untangle from mine, and he pulls his hand out of my grasp.
I swallow hard, my stomach twisting. For a second, I leave my hand resting on his thigh, but given how stiff his posture is, I can tell he doesn’t really want me to touch him, so after a few tense seconds, I pull it away.
This has been my fear since the start. Having sex is one thing, but it’s something entirely different to actually act like a couple in public. Pretending in the real world is hard. Especially when I’m not pretending.
I don’t know what to do.
My stomach is in knots, my heart racing. I hate this. Being close to Harlow is everything to me. I love him. I want him. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to balance how I feel about him with our sham of a marriage.
I really thought I could do this, but maybe I can’t.
“I don’t like it when you lie to me,” Harlow says softly, his voice tight as he stares straight ahead.
“I’m not lying to you.”
Only, that’s a lie too. I’ve lied by omission for basically our entire lives. I’ve never told Harlow how I feel. He doesn’t know the depths of my feelings for him. I was content to keep it that way, but now everything is so fucked up that I don’t know what to do.
There’s a beat of silence before Harlow sighs. It’s rare that he’s upset with me. I’m sure there are friends who fight and have falling-outs, but that’s never been us. Never. We’ve never had a problem we couldn’t talk through. We’ve never come across a situation that threatened to tear us apart.
Now, as he sits no more than two feet away from me in the car, it feels like we’re miles apart. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.
After pulling into the driveway, I glance over at him. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, and it makes my stomach clench. I hate that. Hate that he’s nervous. I hate even more that it’s because of me.
I never, ever want to be the reason that Harlow is stressed out or worried. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be his calm. Trying to be the person to slow his mind down.
“Are you ready to go in?” he asks softly, glancing at me.
My throat tightens as I nod. “Yeah. Are you?”
He shoots me a smile, but it’s all wrong. I have to fix this, and I don’t know how. I don’t even know if it’s something I can fix.
Harlow pushes open the door, then climbs out, shutting it behind him and walking up to the house before I’ve even turned the car off.
Well, fuck.
I rush after him, and when we’re inside, he sits down on the couch. “I think we need to talk.”
My throat convulses as I nod. “Okay.”
“I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
“And I told you, I’m not lying to you.”
Growling under his breath, Harlow pushes to his feet. “You’re lying right now.”
I start to shake my head but stop when he glares at me.
This isn’t going to end well. I already know it. This has been my fear from the very start. I’m going to lose my friendship with Harlow. My stomach sours at the thought, my heart racing.
“You are. I’ve known you for literally ever, Grayson.” He starts pacing, not even looking at me. “I don’t know why you’re lying, and I don’t know exactly about what. But I know it’s a lie.”
“If you don’t know what I’m lying about, then how do you know I’m lying?”
The argument is weak at best, and I know that. He does too, because he stops pacing and glares at me again.
My palms are sweating, so I wipe them on my pants, and Harlow snorts. “Sweaty palms. Yeah, the hallmark of every person who’s telling the truth.”
There’s this comfort in knowing everything about someone.
It’s sweet almost. This little slice of relief that you don’t have to hide yourself.
It can also be a real pain in the ass. Especially in moments like this, when the person standing across from you is so fucking perceptive and they know all of your nervous tells.
“I hate that you know me so well.”
Hurt flashes across his face before he smooths his features out. “No, you don’t.”
I don’t. Not even a little. I shake my head because he’s right. “No.”
“I don’t understand. That story you told…” He starts pacing again, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “About asking me to marry you.”
My blood runs cold. “What about it?”
“That’s the lie, but I can’t figure out how.”
I shake my head. “That’s not a lie, Harlow. You were there when it happened. You know it’s true.”
He stops pacing, then turns his full attention to me, walking into my personal space. I hold my breath as he gets closer, his blue eyes sweeping over my face before he steps back. My hands are still sweating, but I resist the urge to wipe them on my pants.
“Did you mean it?” he asks softly, and my stomach damn near turns inside out.
“Did I mean what?”
He scoffs. “Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. You know what I mean. Did you mean it? Did you really want to marry me?”
My entire body goes numb, a hot pit burning in my stomach. Saying nothing is probably the best move. But it’s not really. Whether he realizes it or not, Harlow has me backed into a corner. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
“Don’t even think about lying to me again.
Did you… did you want to marry me, Gray?
” His words come out choked and broken, and my heart cracks open.
I knew it would end up like this. I knew this was going to be bad.
I knew it would never work out. “And I don’t mean in a ‘haha we got married in Vegas’ way. ”
I swallow hard, turning my head.
“Talk to me.” Stepping into my space again, he cups my face, forcing my gaze back to his. His hands are warm and soft, and I’ve gotten so, so used to him touching me. I have no idea how to give it up. But I also have no idea how to tell him the truth. I’ve been hiding it from him our entire lives.
“I can’t,” I whisper, the tightness in my throat making anything louder impossible. “We… we should—I don’t know. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“This?” Harlow asks, dropping his hands and stepping back. “What do you mean?”
“This marriage thing.”
He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, it’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“I…” I choke on the word, having to clear my throat before I can continue. “I wanted to annul our marriage because I knew it would turn out bad.”
His eyes flash with pain. “You knew it would turn out bad? You knew you’d lie to me? You knew it’d be some bullshit? Is that it?”
I shake my head, wishing I could take the words back.
He snorts a humorless laugh. “Wow.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I say, holding my hands out in front of me.
“The fucking truth.” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging on the strands. “You told me that nothing would change our friendship. You’ve never lied to me. Never. And now you’re just… you’re fucking lying to me, and I can’t figure out why.”
I’ve been lying to him for years. Since I was a kid. Always. I’ve always been lying to him. I can’t stop now. I don’t know how. The idea is terrifying. It’s awful. Gut-wrenching. Nerve-racking.
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” I whisper again.
He raises an eyebrow. “I want the truth, Gray. I just want the fucking truth.”
I’ve been holding on to this for so long that I don’t know how to open my mouth and let the words come out.
“Tomorrow,” he says, taking a step away from me, “I’m going to call my mom and ask if I can come stay with them, and we can talk to someone—a lawyer or whatever—and file for divorce.”
Panic rushes through my veins, my heart dropping. I don’t like that at all.
Harlow turns on his heel and starts to walk away. I can’t let him go. Not like this. I can’t. I can’t fucking lose him like this.
I take off after him, reaching for him. “Harlow, wait.”
He looks at me, and the tears clinging to his lashes nearly stop my heart. “What? What more could you possibly want? You’re lying to me. You won’t just tell me the fucking truth, and you’ve thrown our marriage in my face.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t throw it in your face.”
He pulls his arm from my grasp. “You told me you wanted to annul our marriage because you knew it would turn out bad.” I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off.
“You didn’t have to stay married to me. I know I asked, but you could have said no.
I—” His voice cracks, and he brings a hand up to wipe away the tears that have fallen down his cheeks.
“I thought you were happy with it. I know it wasn’t really your plan.
It wasn’t mine either. But you could have said no. ”
I couldn’t have. I didn’t stand a chance. I didn’t want to say no. The time I’ve had with Harlow has been the most amazing of my life. I wouldn’t want to change it for anything.
“What did you want me to say, Harlow?”
Fresh tears well up in his eyes. “I just wanted you to tell me the truth,” he whispers, a heartbreaking waver in his voice.
I can’t handle it. Seeing him cry is tearing me apart.
He didn’t even cry after he got left at the altar.
Not once. I can’t live in a world where I’m causing him pain.
I just can’t. I inhale deeply, my heart in my throat.
“Do you want me to tell you I love you? That I’m in love with you?
” His eyes blow wide. “Do you want me to tell you that yes, I was serious when I asked you to marry me? That I’ve been serious since I was twelve? ”
He steps closer, his body swaying toward mine, but I can’t stop talking. My mouth is running away from me, and I don’t know how to stop it.
“Do you want to know that all I’ve ever wanted is you? That from the time I knew what it meant to want someone, it was you I wanted? That I’ve spent my entire life hoping and wishing that you would see me? That you would want me back?”
I have to touch him.
I need to.
I don’t even know if he’ll want me to.
I can’t stop it.
Cupping his face, I brush my thumbs over his beautiful freckles.
“Do you want me to admit that watching you almost marry Josh was the worst day of my life and that him leaving you standing there made me feel so fucking guilty because I was happy? I was happy, Harlow. He left you there, and I was happy about it because it meant I didn’t have to watch you marry someone else.
The worst day of your fucking life, and I was relieved. Is that what you want me to say?”
My chest is heaving with each of my ragged inhales as Harlow stares at me in stunned silence. Then he’s lurching forward, crashing into me as he slams his mouth onto mine.
A wounded sound leaves my throat as I tighten my grip on him and kiss him back.
He pulls away all too soon, and I hate it, letting him go even though I don’t want to.
What if that’s the last time I get to kiss him and I didn’t even cherish it properly?
What if I never get to feel his lips on mine again?
“Is that the truth?” Harlow whispers so quietly I almost miss it.