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“Why now?” he asked bluntly, and her eyes clouded.
“Greyson, things are complicated right now. What happened yesterday . . .”
“Do you regret it?” he asked, certain that he knew what her response would be. And dreading the confirmation of his worst fears.
“No.”
The single-word response—the complete opposite of what he had expected to hear—stunned him. And he reeled for a moment as he stared at her uncomprehendingly.
“What?”
“I don’t regret it. Not at all. And that confuses me. I need to think, Greyson. And I don’t believe I can make sound decisions with you around to cloud my judgment.”
“Olivia.”
“I have to do this, Greyson. For all our sakes.”
He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the prickling sensation behind his eyes. The thought of her leaving absolutely terrified him. It felt like the progress he had been making with her, and with Clara, would be lost once she left. He couldn’t lose them again. It would kill him this time. He was certain of that.
“When are you thinking of going?” His voice was embarrassingly hoarse, and he cleared his throat self-consciously.
“Tomorrow. I was going to make an online booking tonight.”
“Don’t. I can arrange for the chopper to pick you up.”
“That’s ridiculous, Greyson. It’s an incredible waste of resources just for us.”
“It’s safer, faster, and more convenient. It would be better for Clara.”
“Greyson . . .”
“She’s my daughter, Olivia. You’re my . . .” He paused, reluctant to even think the word ex-wife. “You’re her mother. Please let me do this for you.”
“Okay, thank you.”
“I’ll drive you two to the airport.”
She nodded, and he was surprised by how acquiescent she was being. Usually she would argue about every little detail, and he wondered why she was being so agreeable. He wasn’t sure if this compliance was a good thing, or if she was just throwing him a bone before finally yanking that rug out from beneath him.
He didn’t think she had it in her to be that unkind. But despite what she had said about forgiving him . . . the thought of how cruel he had once been to her still loomed large in his head. He found it difficult to imagine her forgiving him for that. Perhaps because he still had such a hard time forgiving himself for it.
He reached out tentatively and caught one of her curls between his thumb and index finger, desperately needing the contact.
“I know you didn’t believe me last night, Olivia. And I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t believe me if I were you . . . but I do love you. I have for much longer than I realized. I thought you should know that.”
She stared at him mutely, her arms seeming to tighten fractionally around Clara’s small body. He grabbed the opportunity to lean in and kiss her gently.
“Good night. I’ll send you a text to let you know what time we’ll leave for the airport.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply but left before he could do something embarrassing, like begging her to let him stay.
He loves me. There was no misunderstanding his meaning this time. He had looked straight into her eyes and told her that he loved her.
The words reverberated through her mind as she settled Clara down for the evening, while she packed their bags and set her house to rights.
He loved her.
All her life she had longed to hear those words from Greyson Chapman. For so long she had created girlish fantasies around his romantic declaration of love. Reality had been much less florid and far from perfect.
Reality had been a stark collection of words said in a tortured tone of voice, with desperation shining in his eyes.
And yet those unembellished words rang with truth because they were so typically Greyson.
For the man who rarely smiled, barely laughed, and liked to keep his emotions under lock and key, those few words had been the equivalent of a chivalric knight writing a sonnet to his ladylove.
And Libby now had to decide if that was enough to revive a relationship she had nearly given up for dead.
Greyson barely slept, dreading the thought of driving the two people he loved the most in the world to the airport in the morning. After a restless night he got up just before dawn to take a long shower. And he sent Olivia a curt text afterward, telling her to be ready for pickup in an hour.
He wandered aimlessly around the flat for a while before trying to calm down with a coloring project. When that didn’t work, he got up to pace again. Finally, after half an hour, he strode to the door. He was just about to open it when the sound of Tina’s voice calling his name startled him into yanking the front door nearly off its hinges.
He stopped abruptly, stunned to find his brother cozied up next to Tina on the porch swing. They both looked ridiculously contented, and Greyson was immediately happy for them.
