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“It’s hard to fall asleep when there’s so much happening,” I counter, trying to keep the conversation between us and hoping he doesn’t push me away the way he always does.
“You don’t need to pretend to give a shit,” he retorts, a harsh edge to his voice undercut by an unmistakable tremble.“Aerin’s not around.”
This is the first time I really notice the self-loathing.He not only hates me but himself.Keeping my voice steady, I respond, “Stop making assumptions about me or my feelings.”
He scrubs his face with both hands, weary and beaten.“It’s too fucking hard to believe that you care.”
And this might be a great time to use reverse psychology or give him an out.Seriously, I can’t make him love me, and though it fucking hurts, we can’t keep doing this to each other.
“Is it because you don’t love me anymore?”I ask, the question hanging heavy in the air between us.“Is that why you keep pushing me away?”
He finally lifts his gaze to meet mine, his eyes mimicking an ocean of torment.There’s a haunting loneliness in his stare.The kind that settles in when you’re knocked to your knees, void of anything but raw anguish.
It’s a sight that rends my heart, a silent cry reverberating in the void between us.
A call for help, the first time he’s completely vulnerable in front of me.It’s on me to bridge this gap, to pull him back from the precipice of despair and back into my arms, back into the warmth of our connection.But before he takes my hand, something has to happen.I have to convince him it’s safe and I’m here for him because underneath it all, I love him.
“Just say it, Greyson,” I goad him because deep down, I know there’s something left between us.
He just stares at me, saying nothing.I can feel my breath hitching, the sudden lack of oxygen makes the moment even more poignant.How do I explain to him that it’s okay to let go of the past and to allow himself to embrace love once more?
“Just say: ‘I.Don’t.Love.You.Sanford.Bancroft.’”I spell it out for him, my tone steady, despite the pounding in my chest.“And I’ll leave you alone.”
Silence.
He offers no response.
“Greyson, this is your chance to get rid of me,” I press on, my voice straining with raw emotion.“You utter those words, and I’ll exit your life.Permanently.”
He finally breaks his silence, but it’s not with the words I had provoked him to speak.“You know those times when I ask you to fuck me without prepping me—no lube?”
I nod, unsure of where he’s heading but willing to follow along.Most of the time he asks me to do it hard, as if he wants me to make him bleed.
“That’s because I craved the pain.The punishment,” he admits.His confession lands heavily in the silence between us.“I wanted you to hurt me like I think I deserve.It’s not about some BDSM scenario to get me off.Pain doesn’t bring me pleasure.It was just a raw need to provoke pain because I don’t think I deserve more than for you to break me.”
“You wanted me to hate you and hate myself, didn’t you?” I accuse, my voice heavy with the weight of realization.
He gives a nod in return.It’s a slow, deliberate motion that does nothing to dispel the thick tension hanging between us.
“I can’t, Greyson.You’re asking me to do the impossible for you,” I confess, the words coming out as a half-whisper.“You’re part of me.I may be bitter because you keep pushing me away, and it’s fucking agonizing.But no matter what you do, I won’t stop loving you.”
“But you should,” he finally speaks, and I note the faint tremors racking his body.
“May I hold you?”I ask, hoping that he doesn’t reject me.
He nods.As I wrap my arms around him, I can feel his body shivering violently.“What’s happening?”
“I had a nightmare,” he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur.“Someone broke into the house and took you both.I couldn’t find you, and I ...I knew they were going to kill you.”
I use my free hand to gesture toward the end of the property.“Look over there, Grey.Two men.And another one on the opposite side of the yard.Three more are stationed by the main entrance, and a surveillance van is parked right across the street.We’re safe, Greyson.They’ve got us covered.”
“But the fear, the fear of them taking her away from us, it won’t just fade away,” he admits.
I tighten my hold on him, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.“Why do you think I need to go and finish those assholes?”I pause, inhaling deeply, the night air cool against my throat.“To our knowledge, no one knows she’s still here, alive.But what if they figure out her identity?They’ll try to find her in New York.We’ve scrubbed clean everything we could, but what if we overlooked something?It’s best if we take care of this issue from the root.”
“Please be careful.”His plea comes out as a bare whisper.
“I promise I will be.Meanwhile, you need to focus on yourself.While I’m away, we can start communicating again—something more substantial and less hateful,” I say teasingly.
