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"Well, you are pregnant, remember? Hormones going crazy and shit? Still, this thing with Grayson is enough to have anyone in tears. It doesn't mean you're getting weak. Give yourself time to heal; you'll come out of this stronger than ever."
A knock on the front door catches me off guard, cutting short any response I might have mustered. I stare up at the clock—it’s almost midnight.
"Someone’s knocking. Hold on, Sarah, I'll be right back."
"Don't say that," she teases me, chuckling playfully. "That's what people always say in scary movies, and then no one hears from them ever again."
"Oh, shush," I laugh right back, the first time I've felt like laughing in days.
I make my way to the front door and look through the peephole while still holding my phone as a precaution.
"Fuck," I whisper, taking a sharp step away and raising the phone to my ear. "It's him."
"Him? The killer?"
"Sarah, I'm serious," I hiss as quietly as possible. "He's here."
"Okay, so, ask him what he wants. Or better yet, let him in and talk."
"I can hear you talking about me, Ty. Please just open the door," Grayson's voice comes through the door, muffled but unmistakable.
"Let me call you back, Sarah."
I hang up the phone and stare at the door. I can almost see Grayson standing on the other side—maybe coming with his tail between his legs or looking for another round of this never-ending argument.
I stand up straight, my wounded ego taking charge this time around. "Why should I let you in?"
“I know I was a jerk, and I get that you’re angry. Trust me, I’m angry at myself, too. Just let me in so we can talk, okay? I promise I won’t be a total asshole.”
I wrinkle my nose, hesitating, then let out a long sigh and open the door just enough to catch a glimpse of him, still not stepping away to let him inside. “So only halfway asshole behavior then?”
I'm not sure if I'm being snarky or teasing. I suppose it'll depend on how he reacts.
"Yeah, you're right. I don't deserve a full entrance after what I did," he acknowledges, a quiet half-smile softening his features. He looks down at the floor and then back up at me. "I can sit here and talk if you'd like, but it sounds rather impractical."
Grayson's remorse catches me off guard, and for a moment, I stand there, staring back at the father of my unborn child.
With a sigh, I nod and let him pass. He walks inside hesitantly, his slumped shoulders not shouting his usual confidence. The atmosphere between us crackles with unspoken tension, heavy with unresolved emotions.
"Tyley, I..." He trails off, scratching the back of his neck. “Hell, I had a whole speech prepared. Fuck, I’m not used to this, alright? Going to someone and apologizing, I mean. That makes me sound like an incurable bastard, but things just don’t work that way in my world. We brush things off and carry on, you know?”
I roll my eyes and huff. It’s something my father was all too familiar with. “Yeah, real macho stuff.”
Grayson's shoulders slump at my words, a mix of embarrassment and regret crossing his features. I can see the battle in his eyes, the war between his pride and his desire to make things right. It's a side of him I haven't seen before, vulnerable and unsure.
"The thing is, you do deserve an apology. And a big one, at that. There's no excuse for what I said to you today. None, and I'm not going to try and give you one. I messed up. If you say I'm the father, I trust it's true, is what I should have said. What I'm saying now."
I shift where I stand, not quite knowing how to react. A part of me wants to accept his apology, while another seems to think putting him through the wringer would be a great idea. Crossing my arms in front of my chest and averting his gaze, I mumble: “I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive you quite so easily.”
He offers me a quiet smile, unlike his usual smirks, which infuriate and disarm me all at once. It’s a vulnerable side of him that I didn’t think he would ever be ready to show in full.
“Yeah, I didn’t really expect you to. But it’s a start, don’t you think?”
He reaches out and brushes his hand against my forearm, a touch as gentle as that smile, and my heart skips a beat despite my better judgment.
twenty-four
Grayson
