35. Avery
THIRTY-FIVE
Avery
I swipe at the moisture on my cheeks, waiting for Gray to say something, to break the quiet that’s surrounding us, even though it’s not really up to him to do that.
I’m the one standing on his front porch at nine o’clock at night when I should be in Nashville.
I’ve been a hot mess the entire journey back, grieving the choice that was ripped from me all those years ago.
Relief at seeing his face and nervousness about what I want to say swirl inside of me like a tornado. “Can I come in?” I ask, shuffling from one foot to the other.
Without a word, Grayson steps back, holding the door open for me. I turn to face him as he pulls in my suitcase and closes the door. The soft glow of the lamp on the side table illuminates the space.
“Were you going somewhere?” I ask, breaking the silence, when I remember he was heading out when he opened the door.
“To look for you. Gracie called. She was worried and thought something had happened. They’re saying you’ve gone AWOL, and there was something about a crazy fan at the airport.”
“Not quite a fan, but I fired my manager.”
His brow furrows. “You did? Why”
“Do you mind if we get a drink? There’s a lot to unpack.”
As if realizing where we are, Grayson blinks, nodding his head. He takes my hand as he leads the way to the kitchen. “Sorry, you’ve taken me by surprise, is all. I didn’t expect to see you on the front porch when I opened the door.”
Dropping my hand, he crosses the kitchen, pulling open one of the cabinets and taking out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I follow him to the table, taking a seat and the glass he offers me. The amber liquid burns my throat as I tip it back and take a large swig.
Nervously, I wipe my palms over my jeans. I thought this would be easier, that telling him I choose him, choose us, would be the easiest thing I have to do, but for some reason, the fear that it’s too much too soon after everything we’ve been through is holding me back.
I pull in a shaky breath, staring down at my glass, and decide to start with how I got here.
“My manager—well, now ex-manager—lied to me and told me I’d have to pay over a million dollars if I didn’t go back to Nashville today.
” I look up at him, greeted by his quiet reassurance to continue.
“I don’t have that kinda money just hanging around, so I didn’t feel like I had a choice but to cut our time short and go with her. ”
He shakes his head, taking a sip of his drink before replying, “If you’d have asked me, Ave, I would have given it to you without a second thought.”
My eyes go wide, shock rendering me speechless before I clear my throat and say, “I wouldn’t ever ask that much of you.”
Grayson reaches out and takes hold of my hand, squeezing it gently. “But I would have done it. Whatever you need, it’s my responsibility to support you and make sure you get it. No matter what.”
I lace my fingers with his, my body instantly relaxing from the contact.
“It doesn't matter now. Before I say anything more, I need you to know that I don’t want to cancel my tour. My fans don’t deserve that, so I still need to go back next week to prepare.
” Gray nods, but doesn’t say anything. “But I couldn’t stay there without telling you how I feel and really talking to you about what I want for us.
Last night, when we got back from dinner, everything seemed to happen so quickly, and I wasn’t really processing anything properly. ”
“That’s totally understandable. I should have waited to tell you about my plans. I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, a groove forming between my brows. “Oh God, no, please, don’t be sorry for that. I’m glad you told me, because it’s giving me the confidence to do what I need to do now.”
Clearing my throat, I stare up at the kitchen ceiling, trying to sort through the mess of thoughts in my mind.
“Sometimes, in the early days of my career, when I’d lie in bed at night, I’d wonder what you were doing and how your family was.
I thought about texting you a million times a day, but I never did because of how we’d left things.
We were both angry with each other for the decisions we made, and we were justified in that. ”
Grayson takes a swig of his drink, and I watch his throat work on the swallow.
When he sets his glass down, he says, “I thought about you every day too, Ave. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about getting on a plane, but when you asked me to leave, my dad was sick.
Nobody in my family knew except me and my mom.
He was quietly handing things over to me, and so I couldn’t leave, no matter how much I loved you and wanted to. ”
The back of my eyes prickle as I think of the young man I’d left behind and the responsibility he was forced to carry.
I want nothing more than to climb into his lap and hold him, so I do.
Standing, I wait for Gray to move his chair back before taking a seat on his lap and pulling him into my chest.
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with that, Gray. I’m sorry you couldn’t tell me, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when he passed. If I’d known that you had reached out, I would have caught the first flight home.”
He skims a hand down the curve of my back, like he’s providing comfort to me when it should be the other way around. “You didn’t know.” It’s a statement, not a question.
Leaning back, I run my hands through his hair and then cup his face.
“Penelope confirmed that she’d deleted your message and blocked your number.
She thought you were trying to get me to come back to Coldwater.
I don’t know why I never saw through her bullshit before or let her have such control over me. ”
Grayson grips my chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing me to lift it. Something shifts in his gaze, like he’s releasing all of his old hurt and fully ready to embrace the future because he knows I didn’t choose to abandon him in his grief. “Hey, what she did isn’t your fault. Okay?”
“Okay.” Of course he’s right. I can’t be held responsible for Penelope’s actions any more than Grayson can for mine. But it doesn’t stop the wave of grief from crashing into me, because I could have been there for him. I should have been there for him.
“Have you eaten?”
Shaking my head, I draw in a heavy breath before standing and moving back to my seat.
Grayson goes to get up, but I cover his hand with mine, and he stops halfway to standing.
“I just have something else I want to say.” Dropping back into his seat, he waits patiently for me to continue.
“I didn’t come back for you. When I first returned to town, I was nervous at the prospect of seeing you, but I didn’t return for you.
I wanted to find myself and figure out who I was because I felt like I’d lost something.
But somewhere along the way, I found my music again and I found who I am.
She’s different from the person I was twelve years ago, but I think a little part of her was always here. In this town. With you.”
His eyes soften, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. A soft smile kicks up one corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to convince me, Ave. I can see how much you’ve grown, what you’ve achieved, and how fucking amazing you are. But you’re still you. Still the woman I love.”
My heart skips a beat, and I press my lips together to keep my grin at bay. “You do?”
“I never stopped loving you. Watching you walk away all those years ago was the hardest thing I had to do, but I couldn’t be the reason you stayed and missed out on your dreams. Just like I won’t be now. We don’t have to rush again. Day by day, remember?”
My face crumples as I nod, not because I’m sad, but because I’m overcome with happiness. Grayson Wilde is the man of my dreams, and when I left over a decade ago, I didn’t think I’d get him back, so his words are like music to my ears.
The soothing motion of his thumb going back and forth over my knuckles is the only movement either of us makes for a long time.
Standing, Gray holds his hand out, pulling me up when I slip mine into his. He presses his forehead to mine, his breath shaking as he whispers, “I love you, Avery.”
It’s like the angels up above are singing. Joy floods through me, and my mouth stretches into a grin. I’ve missed hearing him say that. “I love you too.”
He closes his eyes, pulling in a deep breath as if he’s trying to ground himself. And then he kisses me, slow, deep, and desperate, like he’s memorizing this moment, but we have a lifetime of kisses and I-love-yous ahead of us. I’m certain of it.