Chapter 4
FOUR
THE PAST
Ariana
I thought that day would be the best day of my life.
It was our engagement party.
We hosted it at the house Grayson had just bought.
Our first home. He’d pushed himself to make it happen, scraping together a down payment we weren’t ready for and agreeing to a mortgage that made us both nervous.
But we wanted it. This house felt like the first real step into the life we were building together.
It was a simple two-story house in a new development.
Three bedrooms, an open-plan living room and kitchen, and just enough space for us to grow into.
The front lawn had freshly laid grass, still a little patchy in spots, and out back was a small backyard that overlooked the mountains.
The design leaned country, nothing fancy, but warm, with big windows that let the light in and a porch we imagined sitting on in the evenings.
Everything about it felt right.
We invited only our closest friends and family. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just simple meals, a few desserts, and several bottles of wine and champagne. We set up a few round tables and chairs in the backyard, where the view of the mountains stretched out behind us.
I’d bought a new dress for the occasion—a fitted white dress, sleeveless, that fell just below my knees.
When I tried it on earlier that afternoon and showed it to Grayson, he didn’t say a word at first. He just stared, his eyes trailing slowly from my face down to my legs, lingering longer than necessary.
Then he crossed the room in a heartbeat and slipped the dress off me like he couldn’t bear another second without touching me.
His hands were gentle but sure, and when he kissed me, it was slow, reverent—like he was rediscovering me all over again.
His mouth trailed along my skin, his touch speaking a language only we understood.
With Grayson, it was never just about desire or lust. He moved with purpose, with care, always in tune with me.
He knew when I needed tenderness and when I craved something deeper, something raw.
We gave ourselves to each other fully, wrapped in the warmth of love that felt both fierce and soft, an anchor and a surrender.
He always told me he loved me every day, without fail.
But in those moments, when we were tangled together, and he was holding me like I was everything, those three words carried more weight than ever.
I could feel it in the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way his voice broke just slightly when he whispered it.
There wasn’t a single doubt for me that Grayson loved me with all that he had.
But apparently, love wasn’t enough to build trust.
We held the party at night, under the trailing lights we’d strung across the backyard. We thought it would feel more magical that way, and it did. I placed a small vase of red roses on each table, and with the wine glasses and the new, expensive plates we’d just bought, everything looked perfect.
The guests began to arrive, around thirty people, all invited personally.
My parents came, though my older brother couldn’t make it; he was still stationed overseas with the army.
Grayson’s parents were there too, along with his younger sister, Taylor, and her boyfriend.
And of course, Hannah and Payton were there—two people who had been through everything with me.
Grayson’s best friend, Christian, showed up as well.
I’d always gotten along with him better than I did with any of Grayson’s other friends.
Grayson didn’t always love that, but Christian was easy to be around—laid-back, effortlessly charming, and the kind of person who could make anyone feel at ease.
But what caught me completely off guard was the person he brought with him.
Demi Wallace.
He hadn’t said a word about bringing her. When he asked if he could bring a plus one, he never mentioned who. Not once.
Grayson looked just as surprised as I was.
We looked at each other, questions in our eyes, but of course, we couldn’t tell her to leave. This was our engagement party. The last thing we wanted was a scene.
And maybe that was the biggest mistake we ever made.
The party went on, and eventually, we stopped thinking about Demi.
She sat quietly, her expression calm, occasionally offering a polite smile in our direction.
Nothing about her seemed off. There were no sharp glances or tension in the air.
For a moment, I let myself relax. I believed things would be all right.
I felt so blessed, so full of joy, I couldn’t stop smiling.
After dinner, Grayson and I split up to mingle with the guests. I ended up at Hannah’s table. She reached for both my hands and held them tightly. Her eyes were glassy with tears.
“You look so happy, babe,” she said softly. “And I’m just so happy for you.”
My emotions were already all over the place, and her words cracked something open. I let out a shaky sob. “I’m so happy, Hannah. I still can’t believe this is real.”
“It is real,” she said, nodding. “You two are the loveliest couple.”
Her gaze drifted behind me, toward Grayson. He was standing by his parents’ table, but he wasn’t watching them. He was watching me.
He always found me, no matter where I was.
When I smiled back at him, his gaze softened.
That was how much Grayson loved me.
He truly loved me so much, and perhaps it was why his anger was barely contained, and his disappointment, his heartbreak, led to the unimaginable things he did to me.
It wasn’t until about half the guests had gone home, and after my parents had left, since it was getting late for them, that I finally went upstairs to our bedroom to freshen up.
Over time, I had learned a thing or two about makeup, and I just needed a moment to reapply my lipstick and add more blush.
As soon as I stepped inside, I kicked off my heels and let out a long, relieved sigh.
I walked barefoot to the vanity with the tall mirror by the wall, opened the drawer, and found what I was looking for.
I had left the door open, not even thinking much about it, when I caught a glimpse of Christian’s reflection in the mirror.
I turned around quickly to face him. “Hey,” I said, furrowing my brows. “What are you doing here?”
Christian smiled, then quietly closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He didn’t say a word.
In that moment, I knew something was wrong. Something bad was coming. And Christian wasn’t the good guy he always tried to pretend to be.
“Chris, I think you need to go back downstairs,” I said cautiously. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. “This is my bedroom. You shouldn’t be here.”
He pushed himself off the door and started walking slowly toward me.
Panic gripped me instantly. I looked around, trying to find something, anything I could use to defend myself.
But aside from my hairbrush, I didn’t see anything useful.
Or maybe I was panicking so badly that it was the only thing I could focus on.
“Ari,” he said on an exhale. “Honestly, I didn’t want to do this. But the situation left me no choice.”
“Do what, Chris?”
I stepped back, but my thighs hit the edge of the vanity.
I shifted quickly to the left, trying to slip past him.
He followed.
Then his arms shot out, caging me against the wall.
“This is for Gray’s own good, Ari. You’re not good for him.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Chris?” I shouted, my voice rising with panic. I hoped someone, anyone, would hear me, but the music downstairs was too loud. It drowned everything else out.
“I’m talking about how you should leave Gray alone,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “But he’s so infatuated with you, he’d probably come running after you again. That’s why I have to do this.”
“Chris, back away.” My voice trembled as I raised both hands in front of me, but he was already closing the distance.
His smile twisted into something dark, almost cruel.
He shook his head slowly. “Can’t do that, Ari.”
Then he lunged.
His hand clamped over my mouth before I could scream. With the other, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, torn packet. He pinned me to the wall with his body. Panic exploded inside me. I tried to turn, to get away, but he forced my jaw open.
Bitter powder spilled onto my tongue.
I gagged, choked, thrashed beneath him, but he was too strong. His hand covered my mouth again, pinching my nose shut. I couldn’t breathe. I tried not to swallow. I fought it with everything in me.
But my body betrayed me.
I gasped for air, and the powder slid down my throat like poison.
The effect was fast. The edges of the room began to blur. My limbs turned to lead. My thoughts scattered into static. I was still awake, but my body was slipping away from me.
I tried to scream again, but nothing came out the way it should. My body wouldn’t listen.
My head felt like it had been cracked open from the inside.
Heavy. Fuzzy. Wrong.
My mouth tasted like chemicals and cotton. My throat burned.
I was being carried to the bed, helpless to stop it. Somewhere in the haze, I felt everything he was doing to me.
I knew exactly what was happening. I was conscious, just enough to feel it.
But not enough to stop it.
I didn’t know how long it had been happening. It felt like forever. I lay there, but I felt like my soul and my body were separating. I lay there until I heard another voice.
Grayson’s voice.
He was shouting, angry, and then I felt it—Christian being yanked off me.
That voice cut through the fog in my head like a flash of light, and with it, a sliver of awareness returned. Not much. Just enough to feel the panic rushing back in. Just enough to try to move my hand.
I reached for him weakly. My arm barely lifted off the bed.
“Please,” I whispered, my throat dry and raw. “Grayson…”
I saw his face when he turned to me. His eyes were wild, filled with something sharp and hot.
But I didn’t know if it was anger for Christian or at me.
“Gray,” I choked out again. My lips barely moved. “Help me…”
Grayson was shouting.
He was saying things to me—loud, angry things. I heard my name, heard the curses, but the words blurred together. They crashed against my skull like waves, and I couldn’t hold onto them long enough to understand.
I blinked slowly, trying to focus, trying to understand why he sounded so furious. I turned my head slowly, eyes drifting around the room, and realized—Christian was gone.
It was just me.
“Gray,” I whispered. My voice cracked.
But he didn’t stop. He spun toward the closet and began yanking my clothes off the hangers, throwing them to the floor. His rage filled every inch of the room.
Then footsteps thundered in. More voices.
His parents. His sister.
“What happened, Gray?” his mom said, her voice sharp with confusion.
Grayson turned back to me, his eyes wild, chest heaving. He stormed toward the bed just as I used what little strength I had to tug my dress down, trying to cover myself and sit up. My body felt heavy, every movement a struggle, but I had to try.
“She cheated on me!” he shouted. “On my bed!”
A chorus of voices rose at once. Everyone was yelling—Grayson’s family, trying to piece together what was happening.
Then I felt his hands on me. Rough. Unforgiving.
He yanked me upright, and my legs buckled. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t stand on my own, but he didn’t seem to care.
He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me, and I stumbled after him, my feet barely working, my body too weak to keep up.
Sometimes I walked. Sometimes I was just dragged. We passed through the living room, where some of our guests still lingered, watching in stunned silence, unsure of what they were seeing.
And the whole time, my mind was spinning, trying to catch up to a world that had already moved on without me.
I wanted to speak, to scream that it wasn’t true, but my thoughts and my mouth weren’t working together.
No words came. Nothing. Just silence and helplessness, trapped inside a body that wouldn’t obey.
He only let go when we reached the front lawn. My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground.
Hannah and Payton rushed toward me, their faces twisted in shock and confusion. But I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t explain.
Then I saw his family behind them, carrying my clothes and shoes, tossing them carelessly onto the grass like they couldn’t wait to get rid of me.
“Ari, what happened?” Hannah shouted, dropping to her knees beside me.
Then she turned sharply to Grayson, who was still standing there, hatred burning in his eyes as he stared at me.
And behind him stood Demi, arms crossed, smirking like the devil.
This was her doing. I knew it.
“What’s going on?” Hannah demanded, shouting to Grayson.
But Grayson didn’t answer. He just turned around and walked away.
“I’m taking her to my car,” I heard Payton say, his voice tight and urgent. “Something’s not right with her.”
He pressed his car key into Hannah’s hand. “Here—open the door. I’m going to lift her.”
Then I felt myself lifted into the air as Payton half-walked, half-ran with me in his arms. I heard the car door open, then felt the leather seat beneath me as he gently laid me down.
Hannah jumped into the back beside me, pulling me close, cradling my head in her lap.
Payton climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Her stuff!” Hannah suddenly said. “We should go back and grab it—”
I managed to grip her arm weakly. When she looked down at me, I shook my head.
“Okay,” she whispered, her jaw clenched. Then louder, to Payton, “Fuck it. Just leave them. Drive, Payton—drive!”