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GLYNDON
I’m the worst sneak alive.
But when I arrive at our family’s mansion at night, I manage to slip inside without waking anyone.
It helps that I know the security code.
What doesn’t help, however, is the lights that keep going on automatically whenever I move.
Jeez.
However, I manage to steal a tub of ice cream and hide behind the table in the ballroom.
This small nook is as safe as it can get. It reminds me of when I was running around in Grandpa’s house as a kid, how he carried me on his shoulders, told me stories, and taught me chess.
The light stays on, but it’ll be off in about a minute.
Opening the ice cream, cherries and chocolate, my favorite—because I’m the only one who eats it around here—I stuff my mouth with two spoonfuls that hurt my teeth.
But I do it again.
And again.
Tears start to gather in my eyes, but I refuse to let them out. I cried on and off on the flight back home until my head hurt and the flight attendant looked at me as if I were a freak. I stayed in the airport for a few hours to gather my bearings.
I’ve never flown on my own, but I didn’t even think about aviation disasters when I was tending to my broken heart.
And that might have made me cry harder, recalling just how Killian made me comfortable, held me, didn’t even try to satisfy his libido as always. He was just there for me platonically.
Then he crushed me to pieces.
Though, from what I saw in the video, the crashing happened before I even met him.
He was always meant to break my heart, leave me hollow, and confiscate my everything.
“Glyndon, is that you?”
At Grandpa’s voice, I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and step out from behind the table, tub of ice cream in hand and an awkward smile on my face.
Grandpa stands near the entrance, wearing silk gray pajamas and an open robe. Grandma peeks from behind him, her black hair falling to her shoulders, her face free of makeup save for red lips. And she’s wearing a matching pajama set.
“See, I told you it was probably Glyn, Jonathan.”
“Hi. I didn’t mean to intrude this late.”
“Nonsense.” Grandpa gathers me in a hug. “You never intrude, princess.”
My fingers clench into his back and it takes everything in me not to break down in tears.
“Missed you, Grandpa.”
“Is that why you haven’t returned my calls in the past…two days?”
“Your clinginess is showing, Jonathan.” Grandma wrenches me from Grandpa’s embrace for her own hug. “How are you, hon?”
“Okay, I guess.”
She stares at the ice cream and then back at me. “Forget about this and let me get you something more soothing.”
