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Aria slides her hands up my chest and around my neck. “Grayson,” she whispers, her head tilted up to face me. Even on her tiptoes, she can’t kiss me unless I bend down to meet her lips. I look into her eyes, wondering what she sees. How long is it going to take for her to realize what kind of man she’s with? How long until my touch becomes revolting to her?
“I’m done showering,” I tell her, untangling myself from her. I see the disappointment in her eyes, and for a second, I want to stop and turn back to her. I want to take her into my arms, but then I’m reminded of Ida. Not even in my mind do I dare call her my mother, not since she told me I’m an abomination. After everything she went through because of me, I don’t deserve to call her mother. She was right. Even before Aria was mine, I wanted her. When she wanted to move here with Brad, I stopped it from happening. I did it, knowing it’d hurt her. I did it because I was selfish. That was just the first step. In what other ways will I hurt her as time goes on? How long until it becomes physical?
What would have happened if we’d never started dating? Would I have been able to resist touching her the way I’d been dreaming of? Would my heritage make me incapable of respecting her wishes? Would I end up touching her against her will?
I’d like to think I wouldn’t, but I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what I’m capable of.
I slip into bed, knowing it doesn’t matter if I attempt to go to the guest room. Aria will follow me. I know she will. I tense when she gets into bed with me. I feel her inch closer until her arms wrap around mine. She spoons me, and it breaks my heart. I turn and take her into my arms, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, Aria,” I tell her, wishing words could accurately portray how sorry I am about everything. “I’m sorry for worrying you, for turning off my phone.”
She settles in my embrace, her head on my chest. “It’s okay, Gray,” she murmurs. “It’s okay to take some time to think things through and it’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I know what that’s like. I’ll sit with you in silence for as long as you want me to. I’m not going anywhere, Grayson.”
I bury my hand in her hair, struggling to believe she’s mine, at least for now.
“I love you,” I whisper.
Aria looks up and presses a kiss to my neck. “I love you more.”
She pushes herself up on my chest, shifting in my arms so she’s lying fully on top of me, her forearms on my chest. I stare at her in disbelief. She’s so beautiful. It isn’t just her outer beauty. It’s her heart.
She leans in, and I freeze when her lips brush over mine. She’s so light on top of me, so fragile. The way I’ve touched her in the past… who knows how many times I’ve already hurt her unknowingly?
Aria sighs and lies back down, her hair tucked underneath my chin. I close my arms around her, my heart conflicted. I’ve always felt protective of Aria… but I can’t protect her from myself.
57
Aria
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.
