I’m anxious as I put the egg tarts in the oven. Portuguese egg tarts are Gray’s all-time favorite treat, and I’m hoping this will cheer him up. He hasn’t been himself all week. He’s been distant and quiet. I haven’t seen him smile once, and though he isn’t actively pushing me away, he isn’t reaching out for me the way he used to. He doesn’t walk up to me when he gets home and he doesn’t kiss me. When we go to bed, he’ll hold me if I wrap myself in his embrace, but he won’t reach for me.
Even at work, he isn’t the same. He works insane hours, but he isn’t checking in with us in person. He isn’t speaking to any of us. Even Riley noticed he’s been behaving differently. The atmosphere at work has changed, and it all points back to Gray. He doesn’t even realize he’s the heart of his company.
I don’t know what’s going on in his mind. He’s constantly lost in thought, and I’m worried. I feel like I’m losing him, even though he’s right here. I don’t know what Ida said to him, but it’s clear she’s done some damage. I just hope it isn’t irreversible.
I tense when the front door opens, my heart racing. I’ve never felt this type of desperation. I’ve never so badly wanted to make someone feel better. Even back when I wanted to put a smile on Noah’s face by making him a birthday cake, it didn’t feel this way. It didn’t feel like my own heart would break if I failed to make him smile.
Grayson barely looks up as he walks into the house, seemingly lost in thought, as he always is these days. “Gray,” I say, walking up to him. He pauses and turns to look at me. At least that hasn’t changed. He still looks at me with blatant affection.
I place my palms flat on his chest and slide them up slowly, wrapping my arms around his neck as I push my body against his and rise to my tiptoes for a kiss. He leans in, bending down just enough for my lips to meet his, but the kiss is chaste at best. I don’t remember the last time I managed to turn him on, and it makes me feel insecure. I keep trying to convince myself it isn’t me, but I can’t help but worry. I can’t help but think that maybe everything just coincided. Maybe the big change in his life made him realize he doesn’t have time or space for me, or he just doesn’t want me enough. I’m fighting those thoughts as best as I can, but they’re still there nonetheless.
“I made you egg tarts,” I tell him, trying my best to smile as brightly as I can. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s forcing a smile.
Grayson looks into my eyes and nods. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “But I’m not hungry.”
He pulls away and turns to walk to the bedroom, and it kills me. It kills me to watch him walk away. I hate feeling this helpless. I don’t want to stand here and watch him suffer in silence, not when I’m right here, right by his side.
“Grayson,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Don’t shut me out. Don’t push me away.”
He turns to face me, his expression as pained as mine must be. He walks up to me and I look up when he buries his hands in my hair, holding me tightly. He leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, Aria. I just have a lot of work to do. That’s all.”
He pulls away, and I miss him instantly. I take a step closer and rise to my tiptoes, pulling his head down to mine. I kiss him, silently begging him to kiss me back.
He tenses, and for a second, I’m certain he’ll push away, but then he kisses me back, properly, for the first time in over a week. I moan against his lips, and he melts against me, his hands roaming over my body. I push myself up, and he smiles against my lips as he lifts me into his arms, turning us around so I’m pressed up against the wall, my legs wrapped around him.
His tongue brushes against my lips, and I open up for him, deepening our kiss. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed losing myself in him.
“Aria,” he whispers, his lips moving to my throat. I groan when he sucks down on a sensitive part of my neck, needing more.
But instead, he pulls away, dropping his forehead to my shoulder, his breathing as labored as mine. “I can’t do this,” he murmurs.
He lowers me to the floor carefully, but I’m not letting him go. “Why? What’s going on, Gray. You’ve barely spoken to me in days now. Talk to me.”
He runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “It’s not you, baby. It’s never you. You’re everything good in my life. You’re my light when the world falls into darkness. It’s me. I’m born of sin, Aria. I’m the son of a rapist. I’ve got his blood running through my veins. I carry that darkness inside me. I never should’ve been born. A man like me… it’s only a matter of time before I hurt you, and I probably won’t even realize it. Hell… I might like it. Then what?”
My stomach drops, and a chill runs down my spine as I try my best to stay calm. “Who told you this?” I ask, unable to hide the edge in my voice. “When you left the office to go see Ida, you weren’t thinking any of this. You left with hope in your eyes and you returned clouded in despair. Did she do this to you? Did she tell you this?”
Anger unlike anything I’ve ever felt before rushes through me, and I’m tempted to remove her case from my platform entirely. How dare she make the love of my life question who he is. He’s been looking for her for years, and this is what he found?
“I… it’s okay, Ari. She’s hurt, and she was lashing out, but she wasn’t wrong. It’s true. I am the result of a horrible crime, and nothing will ever change that. But maybe, just maybe, if we’re able to give Ida the justice she deserves, some of those sins will be lifted.”
I raise my hand to his face and cup his cheek, keeping my eyes on his. “Those are not your sins, Grayson. They are not your burdens to carry. It is not you who should be seeking redemption.”
He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me, and for now, there’s nothing I can do to make him see himself through my eyes. What I can do, is help him with his case. If that’s what he needs right now, then that’s what I’ll do, no matter how badly I believe that Ida neither deserves Grayson nor the help we can offer.
