Gracie & Gray

Prologue

G R A C I E

Ever since I was a little girl, I dreamed about living in a Pixar movie. I was drawn to everything about them.

The bright colors.

The heartfelt storylines.

The arc of the hero's journey.

Most importantly, I longed for the promise that a happy ending was in sight. It was the reward for the main lead's struggle. I loved that Pixar characters never suffered in vain. Shit happened to them for a reason, and every one of those reasons came fully loaded with an important and poignant life lesson.

"I'm pregnant, Gracie."

In real life, however, happy endings seemed harder to find.

"Oh, my God! Are you sure, Lydia?"

Endings in real life weren't always happy affairs.

"Of course I'm sure! My period is three weeks late. I've taken seven different drugstore tests, and they all came back positive. I have my doctor's appointment tomorrow. Will you... come with me? Please?"

"Yes, yes. Of course. You know I'm always here for you."

"Don't tell mom or dad yet, okay? I haven't decided if I'm going to keep it."

"What? What!"

Sometimes the endings were kind of fucked up.

"I... slept with Gray."

They were messy.

"My... Gray?"

Unresolved.

"Your Gray."

Nonsensical.

"Is the baby... is it..."

"Yeah, he's the father. There's no doubt in my mind."

Endings—at least, my endings—often led to heartbreak. The kind of broken that left a person feeling completely shattered and dazed.

"I'm so, so sorry, Gracie. Gray and I... We were both drunk off our asses. I swear, it didn't mean shit! It was just sex!"

I wished I didn't care anymore. I wished my sister's confession hadn't shredded my heart like a thousand searing knives.

But it did.

Because, even after all this time, even after everything I tried to do to move on, to forget, to let go—

I still missed the bastard.

I still wanted him.

I still loved Gray.