Chapter 2
We were still married.
I would’ve thought waking up in Aruba, married to Mallory Monroe, would’ve been the most unbelievable thing to ever happen in my life. I could now say it was the fact that she hadn’t annulled our marriage in the past three months.
Then again, her world had been rocked in that time.
Not that we’d talked about that or our relationship status. Unless it was work related, we hadn’t talked at all since I’d walked out of her hotel room that morning, and even those conversations were different . . .
Stiff. Formal. Withdrawn.
No fighting during morning meetings at Shadow Industries. No bickering and teasing each other throughout the rest of the workday. No pushing her until she couldn’t help but snap at me, because I loved her violent tendencies.
But worse than all that? I no longer got the other side of her—the real her.
My Mallory.
The Mallory who let her walls down and gave me blinding smiles and uninhibited laughs.
The Mallory who, after years of slowly gaining her trust, shared pieces of her life with me that she hid from everyone else.
The Mallory who could be shockingly soft and gentle, so long as it was just the two of us.
The Mallory who had always wanted to be right by my side because I was her person, the same as she was mine, even if it hadn’t been in the way I’d wanted . . .
“Put me outside with Evans,” she muttered without looking up from her tablet, interrupting Briggs from giving us our jobs for that night’s detail.
Even though I’d known it was coming, my body tensed and my heart twisted at her hushed request. Still, I kept my expression neutral while forcing myself not to meet the rest of our team’s curious and accusatory stares.
But it was impossible not to feel the growing tension in the conference room as they again wondered why she kept requesting to be apart from me.
Briggs cleared his throat and said, “No.”
I lifted my gaze in time to see Mallory’s lips twitch with dissatisfaction.
“You’re inside with Gray, or you’re not on this detail at all,” he added resolutely.
Mallory seemed to think for a few seconds before giving the slightest nod.
Stiff. Formal. Withdrawn.
Before, she would’ve fought Briggs on whatever she wanted. She would’ve stared him down, daring him to deny her—even knowing he likely would’ve. Still, this wasn’t her. I knew it. The rest of the team knew it.
I bit back a sigh when I slipped and accidentally met Briggs’ condemning stare.
“Anyone else?” Briggs asked, the question leaving him in a way that warned us not to say anything. When no one attempted to speak, he added, “Good. Meeting over.”
Mallory quickly left the room, the same way she had with every other meeting over the past three months. Even Evans, as sullen as he’d been for the past year, sent me a somewhat sympathetic look before following her out.
I stood but was quickly pushed back into my chair by Rush.
“Yeah, not you,” Briggs muttered as he dropped his tablet on the table and went to stand behind Mallory’s chair, putting him directly across from me and next to Thatch. Folding his arms over his chest, he tipped his chin up. “Now’s when you explain.”
I feigned confusion. “Explain what?”
A smile that was all frustration and bared teeth crossed his face before he leveled me with a glare. “See, I think we’ve all been waiting for the day when you and Monroe would finally just get together.”
Rush grunted an agreement. Thatch didn’t need to—I already knew he felt the same. Then again, he was the only one who knew exactly what Mallory had always meant to me.
“But we’ve also been worried about the fallout of that,” Briggs continued, then gestured to the conference room table before folding his arm again. “We’ve been worried about this. Now, I have a feeling I already know, but what happened?”
I reared back a little at the implication and accusation in his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Briggs just lifted a brow.
It was Rush who finally broke the silence with a sigh. “You’re not exactly known for staying interested in a girl for long.”
“You’re not known for staying interested in a girl once another crosses your path,” Briggs corrected. “So, what happened? Because this”—he once again gestured to the room—“has gone on long enough.”
I glanced at Thatch, only to find him giving me an apologetic look, like he agreed with them, and I think that bothered me the most.
Not that I would’ve ever expected any of them to think I’d hurt Mallory, but Thatch knew me better than to agree with them on this.
I knew how I came across—I knew my personality—but I’d always been that way.
Charming women came as naturally to me as breathing.
Actively pursuing someone was an entirely different game; one I played much more infrequently than people thought.
Even then, it had always, only been in a vain attempt to fill the hollow in my soul caused by the only girl I’d ever loved.
After all, Mallory had made it clear from day one how she felt about me.
I think my favorites over the years were: “If we were the last two people on earth, you’d die lonely,” and “I’ll become an old cat lady before ever considering you.”
She was insanely allergic to cats.
“I didn’t do a thing,” I finally answered, taking the time to glare at each of them. “Monroe came back from California different—we all saw that.”
“But she isn’t trying to avoid us during details,” Briggs countered pointedly.
“Maybe because y’all aren’t as close to her as I am.” Was, I silently amended. “But y’all know her—she doesn’t do emotions, and she’s hurting right now. So, maybe she’s trying to push me away because she’s worried I’ll break through that diamond-tough exterior.”
It wasn’t a lie . . . it just wasn’t the entire truth.
I was sure if Aruba had never happened, Mallory would’ve done exactly this—physically and emotionally pushed me away after the tragic event that occurred directly following our unexpected elopement. Because, even though she dropped her walls around me, she could only drop so much.
The emotions she hadn’t learned to suppress had been fought out of her at a young age because, according to her dad, they made her weak.
Even though she’d started sharing vulnerabilities with me and sought me out during emotional times, she was still quick to shut me out when that weakness overwhelmed her.
However, I was also sure her continued withdrawal from me was because of the elopement. Not that I could tell the three of them that.
I wanted to. I’d wanted to tell Thatch that first day and every day after. Even more so when he’d asked me to stand beside him during the small wedding ceremony he and Chloe had in Colorado last month.
I needed the support. I needed the advice. I needed people to vent to.
But Mallory’s fear-filled, “No one can know,” stopped me every time.
Briggs looked at Thatch for a moment before releasing a sigh. “Then break through it, if that’s what it takes. Gray, I’m this close to pulling both you and Monroe off all future details until y’all figure your stuff out.”
A stunned breath burst from me. “You’re serious?”
“It’s messing with my team,” he said unrepentantly.
A muscle in my jaw twitched from the pressure I was putting on it, but I just nodded.
Briggs took a step forward to swipe his tablet off the table, then stalked out of the room. Rush gave my shoulder an encouraging squeeze before following. Thatch waited until the door shut behind them before releasing a tense sigh.
“I know you’re keeping something from me.”
I didn’t bother denying it. There was no point when the guy was a body-language expert.
“Is it about Monroe?” he prompted when I didn’t offer anything.
I just barely managed to stop from reaching for my aching chest, but the words, “I love her,” still slipped free. Not that this was news to him.
“I know, man.”
Looking over at the concern lining his face, I gave him the only truth I could. Gesturing to the chair Mallory usually occupied, I muttered, “This apathetic version of her is killing me.”
“I’ve noticed,” he said in a tone that had me tensing.
“I’m fine.”
One of his dark brows ticked up in response to my harsh tone before that concern deepened. “Gray—”
“I’m fine,” I repeated before tipping my chin in the direction of the same chair. “Not with this. You know I’m not okay with what’s going on. But what you’re implying? I’m fine.”
Disbelief and unease mixed with his obvious worry. “You’d tell me?” he asked in a way like he was silently begging me to tell him.
Except there was nothing. Well, not what he was imagining, anyway.
With a single dip of my head, I assured him, “I’ve been good for a long time.”
He studied me a while longer before conceding with a sigh. “Then I think Briggs is right. Something’s gotta give. And if that means you breaking through her walls, then do it. She might hate you for a day or two, but she needs to grieve what happened so she can move on.”
If only her grief was the only thing we were facing.
“Right,” I mumbled as I stood. Once I had my tablet and stylus in hand, I gave him as sarcastic of a look as I could muster. “Break through the unbreakable. Easy enough.”
I headed out of the conference room with Thatch on my heels, my stare automatically shifting to where Mallory sat at her desk once we were in the main part of the office.
Back straight, blonde hair pulled up in a sleek ponytail, earbuds in, that cool indifference she wore like armor firmly in place.
Mallory Monroe had always been fierce words, brave actions, and impenetrable walls around her heart. My Mallory Monroe had been shared secrets, endearing companionship, and surprising vulnerability. But this Mallory Monroe? I wasn’t sure I knew her.
Still, I headed to her desk instead of my own. My heart hammering harder and harder with each step, until I was at her side.