by K. L. Jessop
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I look at her straight on, hoping she can see in me the weight of what I have been carrying—not because I want sympathy, but because I need her to know how much I fucking hate this.
“Asher is still in California. Jackson is trying to get him home, but it doesn’t look like he’s wanting to come back just yet.”
She stands, shaking her head as she starts to pace the wooden floor of the tree house. “No. No. You’ve got it wrong. Why would he do that?”
I can’t say I don’t know because I damn well fucking do know, but how can I tell her that?
“What is he doing out there?” She turns quickly, tears now falling. “What is he doing?”
“Nora.”
“What is he doing, Grayson? What is so important that he can’t come back?”
“Drinking,” I admit. “He’s out there drinking.”
She gasps, her voice now higher as her body begins to shake with her distress. “But he should be here. He should be with us. With me. Why is he there when he should be with us? Pop was his dad, too!”
I’m up on my feet, and in seconds I’m wrapping my arms around her as she weeps against my chest. I hope he wallows in more guilt the second he’s home. I hope he sees in his sister what I’ve witness this past week, the pain she is suffering, and the cries I hear when she thinks no one is listening. I hope he feels it all because the selfish prick deserves it. Then I feel like a total asshole because being vindictive is not pretty, it’s shameful because while Nora is here in agony, Asher is clearly out there suffering, too. Although, that still doesn’t make this right.
“He took the cowards way out, Nora. That’s why he left. He didn’t want to be here.”
Her body stills, and I regret my words instantly. Looking up at me with devastation in her eyes, she frowns. My heart thumps hard as a ball of emotion that is wedged in the back of my throat begins to hurt with the pressure.
“What do you mean, he didn’t want to be here?”
Swallowing hard, I let the words fall, despising myself for letting it get this far. “Asher never needed to head out to Cali. He could have stayed here, but he went out because he…”
“Because, what?”
I look at her, disliking the fact I’m about to crush her and she can read from my eyes that I’m about to.
“Grayson, because what?”
“Because he couldn’t cope with watching your dad get sicker with his seizures.”
She gasps, her eyes searching mine frantically as shock covers her features, stepping back abruptly. The void I now feel is excruciating as her tiny frame looks so vulnerable before me as if I’ve stripped her of every feeling you can possibly imagine and replaced them with ice-cold water and devastation. Her face is pale as her arms hug her waistline.
I swallow hard, knowing I’ve made her this way, but the agony I feel only gets worse when her eyes widen with understanding. It’s right there that my words have finally sunk in, and the wreckage of what I’ve just said has now wrapped around her heart like razor-sharp wire squeezing the life from it.
“You knew?” she whispers. “You’ve known all this time and you never thought to tell me?”
“I can explain.”
“Oh my God.” Her body shakes violently, and I step toward her needing to hold her because she’s not the only one who’s feeling fragile right now. I am, too. Despite my hidden truths, despite what I promised Asher when I know I shouldn’t have, I’m also struggling with all of this myself. But she holds her hand up abruptly, stopping me from getting any closer.
“So, not only did you not say anything once he’d gone, but you wait almost a week after Dad died to tell me when you’ve heard me ask of him, when you’ve listened to me cry at night. You’ve done all of that and never said a word.”
"You have to know I was never happy about keeping you in the dark."
"But you went along with it anyway." She wipes her cheeks, the agony in her body cutting me in two. “Why, Grayson? You knew how worried I was when Dad came home. You knew how much I struggled seeing him in hospital, and you knew how hard I fought each day to keep a smile on my face when I wanted to curl up and cry because I was worried about losing him. Why would you do that to me?”
“Nora, listen to me—”
“Tell me!” she screams. “Why would you keep information from me when you knew it would change everything?"
"Because of that very reason!” I step closer, my chest now on the brink of exploding as my own emotions crawl up my body waiting to expose themselves as I confess everything. "I wanted to tell you—believe me I wanted to—but then I watched you with your dad and all those things you said about wanting to keep the memory alive came back. How you recreated what you used to do to make him smile and how by doing it, it made you forget what the future might hold. I held that information back from you, Nora, because I couldn’t sit and watch that be destroyed by you knowing your brother had left you on your own at a time when you needed him.”
“All those times I put on a brave face in front of Dad when I was worried. All those times you watched us together. Those nights I stayed at yours. The ones when you took me away from him. Did you not think to tell me that I was doing it on my own?”
My blood runs cold. “What… what do you mean took you away from him? Nora, I never took you away from him. This is not my fault.”
Silence falls between us, and for a moment, I can’t read her. She just stands at the opposite side of the tree house, staring me down like a deer in head lights, her body still trembling as her tears fall heavy, but her words that come next hit me with so much impact that it takes my breath away.
“That night he died, I never got to say goodbye because I was with you... when I should have been with him!"
Like I’ve received a bullet to the heart, I step back from her verbal blow. I can’t breathe, my own frame now beginning to tremble as tears that have been threatening to leave my body now start to fall.
“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, nausea now gripping my stomach.
She can’t mean that. She doesn’t mean that.
“Nora, please.”
But she doesn’t say anything. She can’t because the look on her face tells me that she herself can’t believe the words that have just left her. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel remorse rolling off her from across the room as her tiny frame falls to pieces and crumbles right in front of me.
I waste no time in pushing my wounds aside and going to her, catching her as she falls to the floor and curling my body around hers while she breaks. I’d give anything to take her anguish and sorrow, regardless of my own.
“Gray…” she sobs, holding on to me tight. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”
“Shh. It’s okay.”
“It hurts so bad. I don’t want to feel this agony anymore.”
“I’ve got you, Nora. I promise.”
As I hold her close, I don’t fight my emotions—I can’t, even if I try, because with the relief of finally speaking out and the void Pete’s death has left us both with, I can’t be strong right now.
I’ve tried.
But I can’t anymore.
So I let myself fall right along with her as we hold each other like our lives depend on it. Our hands grip onto one another, our hearts race alongside each other’s, and as our tears cascade, I bury my face in her hair and whisper my apologies to her over and over.
I don’t know how long I hold her, but it’s long enough for her breathing to calm and the aftershocks of emotion to leave her body in scattered breaths.
It’s dusk outside, the light in the tree house a low glow, but I just sit, my eyes drifting close as I hold Nora while she plays with the thin threads that are coming out of Scuttles leg.
“Grayson,” she whispers, causing my eyes to open.
“Yeah.”
“Do you think it would have made it easier if you’d told me?"
It’s a fair question, but I�
�ve always believed it would have made things worse, so I’m honest with her. "No. Because knowing Asher had left would have been on your mind when it came to your dad. It would have taken away everything you wanted to do with him. It would have put a cloud of uncertainty over the pair of you, and those smiles I saw from you both wouldn't have been real. They'd have been ones of pain and grief, especially yours. I couldn't do that to you, Nora. I know this has hurt you—I know I have hurt you—but knowing the truth would never have made it easier. You made his last days happy ones, and for that, I don't regret it."
She looks up at me, a fresh tear now delicately slipping down her cheek. “I loved hearing him laugh.”
“And I love to hear you laugh, too. I couldn’t take that away, Shortcake. No matter how much I wanted to tell you and loathed myself for not, I couldn’t do that. You have to understand that.”
“I do. I’m sorry I said what I did. I never meant any of it. I don’t blame you.”
“I know.” I kiss her on the forehead. “You know your dad wouldn’t have wanted any of this. He hated seeing you upset.”
“I know. I just can’t stand all this emptiness. I can’t breathe.”
Needing to give her solace, I think back to the conversation I’d had with Pete, not wanting to have any secrets between us now. “You know, your dad didn’t just tell you not to give up on me. He told me the same thing when it came to you.”
Her eyes find mine, a little crease between her brows. “He did?”
“Yeah. He asked me to take care of you and make you happy. I could tell there was meaning behind it, but at the time, I wasn’t sure what. Then that day at the beach, everything made sense after we’d talked some more.”
“How do you mean?”
“He knew about us, Nora. He knew that we are together. He saw it.”
She inhales. “He knew?”
“He did. And he was happy for us. And I’m only telling you this because I hope it can give you some kind of comfort. So, all those times we were together, he knew why you had a smile on your face, why we both did.”
“That makes me want to cry and burst with happiness all at once because even though I never got to hear him say it, I know that I, we had his blessing.”
“We did.”
The corners of her mouth tug a fraction. “Secretly playing match maker. The little devil.”
I smile. “He clearly saw in us what we feel for each other, and I will do everything within my power to make you happy—to take care of you for as long as you want me in your heart. You understand that, right?”
She nods, another tear falling. “I don’t deserve you after how I’ve behaved, either. I’ve let you down when you’ve been suffering, too.”
She can’t be serious?
Gripping her jaw, I make her look at me and I force my words out with conviction, her belief that she’s done wrong hitting me hard. “You have not and will never let me down. You hear me? Never think that.”
She nods, and this time her words that break out through her tears are laced with so much pain. “My heart just hurts so much, Grayson. I don’t think I’m strong enough to get through this.”
Tears sting my eyes at the thought of her riddled with so much heartache. “Nora, listen to me. You can do this. It won’t be easy, and some days will be harder than others. But you can do this. You are stronger than you know. You are braver than you give yourself credit for. And on the days should you fall, I will be right beside you holding you up.” I kiss her lips tenderly.
“You’d do that for me? No matter how long it takes?”
I’d give her the world.
I’d do anything because of how much love I have for her.
Resting my forehead against hers, I sniff back my tears and give her my heart. “I would move heaven and earth for you, Nora. I promise you with every part of me, I will catch you should you fall.”
“Always?”
“And forever.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grayson
My palms are sweaty, my body is shaking, and my heart is aching to the point I can’t breathe.
Today is the day that I don’t want to be real.
Today is the day that makes it final.
Today is the day that I will never forget, and the day my girl will remember forever.
She’s lived through those times when her daddy went to war. She’s lived through those long days and even longer nights, wondering if he’d been safe. I’ve witnessed her anxiety when there would be a knock at the door, wondering if she’d hear those words telling her he was not returning home—the times she’d sat by the window, waiting for him to walk up the drive after his time overseas. I’ve seen it all.
And now it is final.
He’s gone.
“You look, beautiful,” I whisper to her as our eyes connect in the full-length mirror. She stands in a short, black lace dress that is both elegant and smart, a black ribbon band around the waist. Her makeup is light and her hair that is braided falls over one shoulder.
She hadn’t slept all night; she’d just waited until her mom had gone to bed before she stepped into the spare room where I was and curled up beside me. I’ve been staying at the Nelsons’ as much as I can—regardless of my place right next door. Truth is, I couldn’t leave her. As the week has gone on, I’ve seen her deteriorate and fall into a dark world of mourning. Fiona has witnessed it, too, and I can’t help but think Asher also has a lot to do with this. After our conversation the other day, she’s not spoken of him since—not tried to call him, not asked if I have any news, nothing—but her tears for her father have become more frequent.
The distress in Fiona’s features when it comes to her son has been hard to witness, too. I told her everything, and unlike when I’d told Nora, I was met with silence. She’d listened as I explained, and when I was done, she’d smiled, kissed my cheek, and thanked me for everything I’ve done for her family.
I’d been both honored and bewildered. Neither of my feelings in response to her reaction had felt right, and I’d waited for the backlash of keeping something like that from her. But it never came.
Turning in my hold, Nora steps in close, her head low as I wrap my arms around her. The hairs on the back of my neck stand tall and my skin becomes decorated with a blanket of goosebumps when her fingertips brush down my chest.
“Let me hear them again?” she whispers, a tear sliding down her cheek.
My hands cradle her jaw, I hold her gaze and repeat the words she’s needing to hear with conviction and assurance. "You are beautiful. You are brave and you are strong," I whisper. "So very strong."
They’re the same words I’ve said to her all week—the ones I’ve repeated in her ear when I’ve caught her staring into space and falling into a world of solitude. They’re the same words I’ve whispered against her skin when I’ve held her close and as I’ve stroked her nose at night before she’s fallen asleep.
“I don’t feel strong. Not today,” she whispers, her lip quivering. “I feel like my heart is fractured, Grayson. I’ve never known pain like this before.”
Her words and the look of devastation in her eyes is enough to make my body tremble. I’ve told her she is brave, strong, but the truth is, I’m not. I’ve tried to hide my sadness when I’ve been around her as best as I can, and there have been times when I’ve said I’ve needed to go home to take care of a few things. But I’ve only used that as an excuse to be on my own and cry like you wouldn’t believe.
It’s hard to remain the strong one when you’re still learning to survive your own heartbreak.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It gets easier, Nora. I promise you. With time, you will slowly learn to breathe again.”
Empathy clouds her eyes as a flat smile tugs at her lips.
Her hands glide up my torso, and I can already sense the words that are going to fall from her lips. She can see what I’ve been trying to hide this past week. S
he can see that my guard is falling, and I loathe that I’ve made myself this vulnerable when she needs me to be her strength right now.
But I don’t know how long I can keep this wall up.
"I'm sorry, Grayson," she whispers. "This can't be easy for you either. It must bring unpleasant memories back for you."
I trail my finger along her hairline, down her jaw before I lift her chin a little higher so I know I have her full attention. I speak with conviction and sincerity. "My heartache doesn't matter when you're the one breaking right now."
"I need you more than you know, Grayson. And I don’t just mean today."
My heart rate shifts gear, and those damn tingles she creates cascade down my spine. She doesn’t have to say anything else because I can hear the hidden meaning behind her words. I can feel it in her touch. I can see it in her eyes, and I sense it in her kiss.
This woman is my everything. All this time, my reason to live has been right in front of me, and whatever happens next, I’m going to fight with everything that I am to keep it that way.
"I’m never letting go, Nora.” I kiss the tip off her nose. “Never.”
Everyone else has paid their respects, Fiona has headed home with Mark, Charlie, Makenna, and Wade leaving the two of us here. It’s just us at the graveside now.
As a daughter, Nora has been the strongest I’ve ever seen her for Fiona, but as a mother, Fiona had known Nora needs her time with her dad.
The moment we are alone, my girl breaks down so hard that she takes me with her, falling to her knees. The cries that leaves her tiny frame sends a blade of pure agony straight to my heart, shattering me into pieces. Her nails dig into the grass, her knuckles white, as her body shudders with the wreckage of what is playing out in front of her.
The service had been everything you would want it to be for an honorable man like Pete: beautiful yet raw. American flags provided a wall of color around the graveside, and the men in their dark uniform stood like statues as the sun had reflected off their badges that lined their chests.
