Conflicted

Chapter 44

Ada Johnson's P. O. V

What am I doing? I think in alarm as I glance down at my hands and then back at the closed door, my mouth gaping and eyes wide. I realise that it did take me a while to digest the information, being apart of a Mafia no small ordeal in the slightest but nonetheless, the look in his eyes as he walked away. Even now I can feel the pang in my chest and the sickness resting in my stomach, gurgling away at the sight of an overly down Gregory.

Shaking my head quite a few times for good measure, I take in a long deep breath before I'm back on my own two feet and heading in the same direction Greg just left. I'm not sure where he is in the house but my gut feeling points me towards the living room downstairs, the man most likely sitting on the couch and trying to get sleep even though his bed was upstairs.

He should be snuggling up to me right now instead of berating himself for something that I don't even have all the information too. I can't believe I just blanked and let him think I viewed him in a light that I never have, nor do I think I will in my life. This might seem biased but something tells me that there's more to this than meets the eye and I'll be damned if I don't hear all of the story before I start jumping to conclusions and judging the man I love.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, I frown in confusion once I reach the bottom and peer into the living room, only to find the place covered in pitch black. Rubbing my eyes a bit, I place one hand on the wall near me so that it can help guide me towards where I have a general idea of where the couch is, the man most probably lying down on it in the dark. Muttering to myself under my breath, I miss the small corner table with various ornaments on it and end up smacking my small toe into its edge. A smattering of course words leave me in a louder tone than I would have liked while I hop about on one leg while trying to rub the area that throbs painfully at the same time.

"Ada?" A cautious voice speaks up, the next second resulting in much needed light illuminating the room as Greg turns on the corner lap next to the couch.

Sighing in relief at the sight of my boyfriend and also at the fact that the throbbing has calmed down, I pass the man a timid smile while I hobble out of the way of any more hazards and towards a befuddled Gregory.

"Are you alright?" He voices once more to which I give him a timid nod, searing myself besides him.

"I just hit my toe on one of those tables. It's fine." I mumble while waving a hand through the air even though the mere draft in the room causes my pinky toe to play up at the slight touch. Ignoring my foot, I gently place one hand on his thigh which results in Gregory to look even more confused than he did when I started throwing around swear words out of the blue.

"Greg," I say with a breathy sigh, unable to form the words I knew were resting at the tip of my tongue. He merely frowns further, probably thinking I'm about to break up with him after what he told me. "Ada, if you need to do something about us, don't hesitate. I know me releasing a huge secret onto you like that isn't the best thing I could have done but I don't want to keep anything a secret if our relationship were to progress. I just-," Gregory cuts himself off, staring at the ground as he beats himself up most likely for whatever he did in the past. I even notice how he mentioned our relationship in the past tense which causes me to let out a snort of my own.

Blond ruffled hair and light baby blue eyes snap up in my direction, wisps of hair landing onto his pale forehead which I push away gently with my hand. That same hand trails down from his forehead and to his jaw where I cup his cheek, enjoying the sentiment just as much as he does when he nuzzles into my palm and places a soft kiss on it.

"I'm not breaking up with you, silly. I wouldn't dream of it. Not unless you're a brutal murderer who killed dozens of people while in the Mafia," I pause momentarily as the words actually sit in my mind, eyes slightly wide as I stare at him in concern but instead, being greeted by the man rolling his eyes at me as if I've just said the most implausible thing in the world.