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Grayson: All ok.
That’s it? That’s fucking it?! My blood boiled. I’d been waiting all day for an update, and all he could manage were two fucking words. I drew in a shaky breath as my eyes welled, but I blinked away the tears.
After everything Adam told me on the way home, I realised there was a lot we needed to talk about, but not over the phone. With the Melanie situation looming over him, he didn’t need the extra pressure. So as much as it hurt, I placed my phone back on the nightstand and closed my eyes, letting a stray tear roll down my cheek.
It wasn’t until the next night, that my ringtone infiltrated my dreams.
“Grayson?” I answered in a husky voice, rubbing my eyes. I glanced at the clock. It was 1am.
“Hey, Jos, sorry for calling so late,” he whispered.
I sat up in my bed. “Why are you whispering?”
There was silence on the other end and I heard the click of a door closing.
Grayson cleared his throat. “No reason,” he said, returning to a normal level. “How was the drive back with Adam?”
“Fine,” I replied, shortly.
He sighed. “I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to call you. My phone’s been off most of the time. Hospital policy.”
“You called Adam.” I couldn’t hold back the bitterness in my voice. Hospital policy my arse.
“I’m sorry, Jos, this stuff with Mel, it’s really messed up and I’m trying to keep you out of it.”
My jaw clenched as I held back my tears. “Clearly.”
“That’s not what I meant, I—”
“So, where are you now?” I interrupted. I hated the way I sounded, but I couldn’t control my mouth.
Grayson was quiet for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“Well your phone is on now, so obviously you’re not at the hospital.”
A guilty silence followed. “I’m at Melanie’s parents’ house. They hired a nurse so she could come home.”
“And you’re staying there? With her?”
“Just until she’s feeling better,” he said quickly. “She’s in a bad way and needs my support.”
“Shouldn’t she be going to rehab or something?”
“We’re dealing with it privately. If this gets out, it will ruin her.”
What the fuck? “Isn’t her health more important than what people think?”
“You don’t understand,” he said, tiredly. “We look after our own.”
Pain seared through my chest. “Of course, how stupid of me.”
“Jos, it’s complicated.”
My nostrils burned. “It seems like the only complication right now is me.”
“You’re not a compli—” He paused when a female voice sounded in the background.
“Who are you speaking to?” she asked.
