Chapter 25
Blair
I was curled up on Greyson’s couch, my laptop open on the coffee table and the fireplace flickering quietly in front of me.
I’d finalized half the book, maybe a little more.
The creativeness flowed more easily tonight, as if the world was finally settling around me instead of pressing in.
I heard the front door open and shut softly.
I glanced back, heart fluttering like always when I saw him walk in. But this time, something felt off.
His shoulders were tight. His jaw was set. His eyes found mine instantly, and the wall around his expression cracked the moment they did.
“Hey,” I said, rising slowly. “What happened?”
He didn’t speak immediately, he just came toward me and wrapped his arms around me. Tight. Protective. Like he needed to convince himself I was still here.
“Grey?” I whispered, my hands flattening against his chest. “What is it?”
He stepped back, gently took my hand and guided me to sit beside him on the couch. I noticed a faint redness in his knuckles, like he’d hit something. Or someone.
I sat still, my heart beginning to thump.
“Adrian came into the bar tonight,” he said quietly.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The sound of his name cracked something in me, something I’d buried deep enough that I thought it might never rise again.
“He what?”
Greyson nodded. “He came in, ran his mouth, loudly. Wanted to stir up shit. Said awful things. About you. About what happened.”
My throat tightened. “And you? What did you do?”
“I lost it,” he admitted, voice low but firm. “I pinned him against the wall. Told him to leave and never come back. Blair, I swear to you, if he ever tries to come near you again…”
I reached for him before he could finish. “Thank you.”
His head snapped up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You’re not upset?”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m upset he came back. That he had the nerve to walk in like nothing happened.” I took a breath, feeling the shake in my chest. “But you, Greyson, you protected me. You stood up for me in a way I never thought anyone would.”
His brows furrowed, like he was still processing the run in with Adrian.
“I thought maybe you’d… feel like I should’ve handled it myself. That I was dragging you into a mess.”
“You are my mess, Bee,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, uninvited but honest. “I spent years hiding from it. From the pain. From my family. From the truth. But I don’t feel broken when you look at me now.”
He cupped my cheek with his palm, his thumb brushing away the tears as they fell. “You’re not broken. You never were. And anyone who made you think otherwise never really saw you.”
My breath hitched. The warmth of his touch. The safety in his voice. It was everything I’d never let myself hope for.
Then, quietly, he added, “I love you, Blair.”
The words landed like sunlight on frozen skin, melting, freeing.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back. “So much.”
He leaned in and kissed me with the ache that only came from surviving something dark and stepping back into the light.
I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to the man who had become my anchor.
We didn’t speak for a while after that. Just held each other, the fire crackling nearby and the weight of the night slowly lifting.
I knew now, whatever came next, I wouldn’t face it alone.