wrong one//g.d

f o r t y - n i n e

"Yeah."

"You said we should--" he sighed, "you know, do our honeymoon thing for our one year." Your eyebrows raised again. You'd forgotten about that.

"Oh, yeah."

"Where do you wanna go?" You looked up at him. You shrugged. "Hawaii?"

"You've been to Hawaii so many times," you whispered. He smiled a little, covers over his waist and below. "I'm not sure."

"I've never been to the Bahamas?" he said. You nodded.

"That's good." He gave you a smile.

"The Bahamas it is." You gave him a small smile back as he gently pulled your book away.

"Gray, my page."

"You need sleep," he whispered. You sighed, letting your head drop onto your pillow. He kissed you on the head and you winced almost, not having expected it. "Goodnight?" he asked. You turned your lamp off and he turned to face away from you.

"Goodnight."

---

"You didn't even call me!" he yelled. You winced a little and rolled your eyes. "You could've fucking told me you had an appointment--"

"You knew, Grayson; I made it during the last one!" He sat the phone down on the table. "You just never fucking pay attention." He looked up.

"I do, pay attention," he mumbled. "You could've fucking called me to tell me you were gonna head out."

"Yeah, I didn't really give a fuck, Grayson," you said, unloading the dishwasher. "If you gave a shit about your child you would've come on your own."

"What the fuck, y/n?" You rolled your eyes, reaching up to slide some plates away into a cupboard. "Are you gonna fucking tell me what she said?"

"Maybe you should've come," you mumbled. His eyebrows raised.

"You're really gonna be that fucking petty?" You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head. He should've remembered. That's all he really had to do-- you were the one carrying the baby. You told him so.

"All you have to do is come to my fucking appointments, Gray, I'm the one carrying a fucking child inside of me." He let out a frustrated sigh.

"Fuck, y/n-"

"Ethan goes to every single one of e/w's appointments, doesn't he?" Grayson stood.

"And that's the fucking reason our fucking company's all over the place right now, y/n." You shook your head, setting out a few straws to dry. "If I weren't there, we'd be even more fucked up."

"Well, if you're gonna pick your job over your fucking wife, that's a decision you're making, Grayson." Okay, maybe you were guilt-tripping him. He deserved it, right?

Or maybe you just didn't wanna tell him that your doctor had said that the baby wasn't growing at the rate it was supposed to.

"Y/N--"

"Yeah, whatever, Grayson," you mumbled. His arms dropped to his sides in defeat. "Don't you have work to do or something?"

"Y/N--"

You headed upstairs to hear him let out another frustrated groan. Rolling your eyes, you made your way up to your own desk to do your own work while Gray dropped back into the stool as he stared at the kitchen floor for a moment, his phone buzzing with messages he wasn't paying attention to.

He wondered for a second if you really thought that. That he valued his job and his work more than he valued you and the child you were about to have. Because that wasn't true at all. It was just that Grayson Dolan sometimes forgot to think.