8. Gray #2
Beth sits next to me, quiet, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She’s probably trying to give me space, but it doesn’t matter. My mind’s not here. It’s stuck on Maddie. How do I explain this? How do I look into those wide, innocent eyes and shatter her world?
The taxi slows as it pulls into her apartment complex. Beth’s voice is quiet. “You’ll call if you need anything?”
I nod, barely managing a grunt of acknowledgment. She squeezes my arm briefly, grabs her bag, and steps out. I don’t watch her go. My eyes are fixed straight ahead.
It’s not a long drive from here, but it feels endless. The car winds its way through the familiar roads, the headlights slicing through the twilight, until finally, we’re pulling through those damned stone pillars.
The driveway stretches out before us, lined with old oaks that seem more like silent sentinels tonight. I barely notice them. My brain is running in circles, replaying every possible scenario of how this conversation with Maddie will go. None of them end well.
The taxi rolls to a stop in front of the house. The driver hops out first, opens the trunk, and pulls out my suitcase.
I step out, the evening air heavy around me.
“That’ll be thirty-five even,” the driver says, setting my bag on the ground.
I pull out my wallet, hand him two twenties, and mutter, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks. Take care, sir,” he climbs back into the car.
I don’t respond. My eyes are already on the front door as the taxi pulls away, leaving me standing there with my suitcase in one hand and a sinking weight in my chest.
The house looms ahead, its windows dark except for the faintest glow in the living room. I know Avery’s inside with Maddie, probably trying to make things as normal as possible, which is almost laughable. There’s no normal here anymore.
I start walking, the wheels of my suitcase scraping against the stone driveway.
Stopping outside the door, I drop the suitcase handle and pull out my keys. My fingers hesitate over the lock. Maddie’s little face flashes in my mind—bright, full of life, completely unaware of the storm about to hit her.
I swallow hard, squeeze the key in my hand, and force myself to slide it into the lock. The sound of the latch turning echoes louder than it should, and then I push the door open and step inside.
The air inside is warm, carrying the faint scent of something Clara probably made for dinner. My suitcase thuds against the floor as I let go of the handle, and before I can take another step, I hear the rapid beat of footsteps.
Clara rushes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her eyes locked on me. She stops a few feet away, not saying a word, just waiting—her face tight with worry.
I don’t have it in me to explain. I just shake my head once.
Her shoulders sag, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I am so sorry, Mr. Hayes.” She steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Maddie and Avery are in the living room. That poor little girl.”
Umm... tell me about it.
I exhale sharply, running a hand over my face. “Yeah… I have no idea how I’m gonna tell her.”
Clara hesitates, her eyes soft with something that looks a hell of a lot like pity. “Have you eaten yet? Would you like some food?”
I shake my head and step away from my suitcase. “I ate earlier, thanks.” My eyes flick back to the bag. “Can you put my clothes in the wash, please?”
“Certainly.” She bends down and lifts the case with ease before disappearing down the hall.
I stand there for a second, rubbing the tension throbbing at the base of my neck. Then I push a hand through my hair and head for the living room, following the sound of Maddie’s voice—raised, energetic, and very much alive.
Avery’s voice follows, a mix of patience and exasperation.
“No, Maddie, you can’t just decide all your pieces get a free turn whenever you feel like it—”
I stop just outside the living room where the door’s been left ajar, and lean against the frame for a second, watching.
Avery sits cross-legged on the floor, a board game sprawled out in front of her, her brow furrowed as she points to something on the board. Maddie, on the other hand, is grinning like a little mastermind, clearly unfazed by whatever rule-breaking accusations are being thrown her way.
“It’s not cheating,” Maddie argues, her hands on her hips. “It’s... creative strategy.”
Avery snorts. “No, it’s bending the rules until they snap in half.”
Maddie shrugs. “Well, maybe if the rules weren’t so dumb, they wouldn’t break so easily.”
Avery sighs, looking up at the ceiling like she’s praying for patience. “Maddie, this is Candy Land. The only rule is to move forward.”
“Exactly.” Maddie beams. “And I’m moving forward. Faster than you.”
Avery picks up one of the little plastic pieces and gives Maddie a pointed look. “Because you keep ‘finding’ extra turn cards under the couch.”
Maddie gasps, pressing a hand to her chest like she’s deeply offended. “Are you accusing me of... of...”
“Absolutely, little one.”
I almost smirk. Almost. If I hadn’t been standing here about to drop a nuclear bomb on Maddie’s entire world, I might have actually enjoyed this moment.
Instead, I take a slow breath and push the door open.
Avery looks up immediately, her expression shifting the second she sees me. Concern etches into her face, her mouth parting like she wants to say something, but before she gets the chance, I blink and shake my head.
That’s all it takes. Understanding settles in her eyes, and she nods.
Maddie, completely oblivious, is sprawled out on her stomach, legs stretched out behind her, focused entirely on Avery and their argument.
That's when she notices me and throws her hand toward the game board.
“Can you tell Avery that the whole point of playing a game is to win?” she huffs before turning back to glare at Avery. “By any means necessary.”
Avery sighs. “That’s not how it works, Maddie.”
I step further into the room, clearing my throat. “Aren’t you gonna give your favorite uncle a hug?”
Maddie finally lifts her head properly and looks at me, her little brows pulling together. “No,” she says matter-of-factly. “I haven’t got a favorite uncle.”
I smirk and reach into my jacket pocket, pulling out a small pink box, neatly wrapped with a tiny bow.
Her eyes light up immediately. “Is that for me?”
I hold it just out of reach. “Hug? Uncle. Favorite?”
She crosses her arms, trying not to smile, but she’s already lost. With an exaggerated sigh, she gets up and throws her arms around my waist. I kiss the top of her head, ruffling her curls before letting her go.
“Fine,” she mutters, pulling away. “You’re my favorite for now.”
I hand her the box and sink onto the floor, watching as she eagerly rips off the paper. Inside, nestled in a little velvet pouch, is a delicate music box. She opens it carefully, her face pure wonder as a tiny angel ballerina twirls to a soft, sweet melody.
Maddie’s eyes go wide. “Is that me?”
Avery, still sitting cross-legged beside her, smiles, small but genuine.
“Who else?” But look what else I got you.”
Maddie snaps her head toward me like it’s Christmas morning, her eyes practically sparkling.
I pull another small box from my pocket—this one unwrapped, but she can already see the brand logo, TickTalk printed on top. The latest smartwatch.
She gasps, jumping up. “Oh, wow! You are my favorite uncle!”
I smirk, handing it to her. “Yeah, thought I would be.”
She wastes no time peeling off the cellophane, sending game pieces scattering across the floor as she clears a space. “Avery, can you show me how it works?”
Avery opens her mouth, but before she can answer, I meet her gaze and give her a small nod. Not now.
Avery presses her lips together and nods back.
I squat down to Maddie’s height, placing a hand on her shoulder. “She can set it up for you afterward. But first, Maddie—” I glance back at Avery before looking my niece in the eye. “I need to have a little chat with you. Come on, into my study. Your new watch will still be here when you come out.”
Maddie groans. “Ohhhhh...”