4. Gray #2
I find my thoughts drifting—no, dragging—back to Avery.
She should be picking Maddie up from school right about now.
The image of her standing in my hallway this morning creeps in, unbidden.
Her flushed cheeks, the way her hair caught the light, the slight tremble in her voice—it’s too vivid. Too much.
I grit my teeth. I don’t want to think about her, not like this. But the memory refuses to fade, and before I can stop myself, I imagine her smile, the way her body moved when she turned to leave—
“Gray.”
The sharp voice cuts through the fog in my mind. I look up to see Eleanor staring at me, her expression icy. “Did you hear the question?”
“No,” I admit, straightening in my chair. “But I’m sure it’s the same as the last ten. Enlighten me.”
She frowns but repeats herself. Something about reassuring shareholders and containing the fallout. I give her a stock answer, something about transparency and actionable steps, and the meeting moves on.
But my mind doesn’t.
It shifts again, to the loss I can never truly escape. Katherine. My wife. It’s been a year, but the ache hasn’t dulled. Not even close.
The meeting fades into background noise as I’m pulled into the memory.
I’m in the hospital room, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. Kat lies pale and fragile in the bed, her once-bright eyes dulled by pain. I’m holding her hand, watching as the life slips away from her, powerless to stop it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.
“Don’t,” I choke out, my throat tightening. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She gives me the faintest smile, her thumb brushing weakly over my knuckles. “Promise me… you’ll try and move on, once I’m... I’m…”
“Damn it! Please, don't talk like that, Kat... please?”
The machines beep steadily, cruelly reminding me of time running out. I can’t think straight. I can only nod, tears burning my eyes as her grip weakens. And then—
“Gray!”
The sound of my name yanks me back to the boardroom. My chest tightens as I blink, forcing myself to focus on the impatient faces staring back at me.
“You’re zoning out,” Nathaniel murmurs beside me.
I clear my throat, trying to shake off the weight of the memory. “Just tired,” I lie, pulling my tablet closer.
But the truth is, I’m unraveling. Avery’s image is branded in my mind, Katherine’s memory an ever-present ghost, and I’m stuck somewhere in between.
The meeting is still dragging on, voices bouncing back and forth as though they’re all afraid of silence. Someone is asking about shareholder confidence again—because apparently, repeating ourselves makes the problem magically disappear.
I lean forward, tapping my pen against the table, and interrupt whoever’s speaking.
“Alright, enough. We’ve circled this same issue a dozen times now.
The market’s stabilizing, and we’ve got a plan in place.
Unless anyone here has a revolutionary idea or a sudden miracle to share, we’re done for today. ”
A few board members shift in their seats, clearly annoyed, but no one speaks up. Good.
Eleanor narrows her eyes at me, like she’s debating whether to challenge me, but ultimately gestures for everyone to wrap up. “Fine. We’ll reconvene next week for updates. Don’t waste my time.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I mutter, pushing my chair back.
Nathaniel stands beside me as we leave the boardroom. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“That’s a low bar, considering it was a disaster,” I reply, walking ahead.
He smirks but doesn’t argue.
Marissa keeps pace with us, her tablet clutched tightly in one hand. “If there’s any significant movement in the market, I’ll let you know immediately.”
“Good, and don’t wait for an invitation. If it’s urgent, call me, no matter the time.”
The elevator ride down is quiet, the tension from the meeting still hanging. As the doors open and we step into the corridor leading to our offices, Nathaniel glances at me.
“Oh, I knew there was something I wanted to ask you,” he begins. “Mary wanted me to see if you’d like to come over on Saturday evening for dinner.”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Yes, maybe. I’ll let you know.”
Nathaniel slows his pace, turning to look at me. “Everything alright? You don’t look your normal, arrogant self.”
That gets a smile out of me. “Oh, my sister decided to jet off to some business meeting and dumped her little monster of a ten-year-old on me until she gets back.”
Nathaniel laughs. “All the more reason to come. Bring her with you.”
“You know, I might just do that, but I may need to bring her nanny too, just to keep the chaos to a minimum.”
“Great. I’m looking forward to it.” He opens his office door. “I’ll give you the details tomorrow.”
“Can’t wait,” I mutter under my breath, more to myself than to him, as I head into my own office.
I drop my tablet on the desk and grab my briefcase, not bothering to sit down. The day has been long enough, and I’ve had more than my fill of boardroom politics and stock market anxiety.
Briefcase in hand, I leave my office, making my way down the familiar halls to the elevator. The ride to the basement parking lot is mercifully uneventful.
The moment I step into the lot, the cool, dim air hits me, and I feel the tension start to ease. I spot my car, and head straight for it. Unlocking the door, I slide into the driver’s seat, tossing my briefcase onto the passenger side.