"Cora." Grayson got straight to the point as he and Alison distanced themselves from Mason.
"I've never seen her before until today,"Alison replied immediately, her gaze drifting toward the nearby chocolate fountain. She nibbled her lower lip, seemingly torn between the temptation of chocolate and her thoughts about Cora.
"Perhaps she's part of Mason's inner circle?" Grayson tried to bring Alison back down to reality.
"Perhaps," Alison acknowledged, her gaze still transfixed by the chocolate fountain. She was clearly deep in thought, and Grayson hoped it was about the latter.
He still hadn't told Alison about his brief interrogation with Cora at the student exhibition room, and he intended to keep it that way. It was clear that Alison knew nothing about Cora, just as Grayson did. However, he had a strong suspicion that Mason had included her on the board, much like Alison had added Grayson.
Alison made her way to an open balcony, Grayson following closely. As they stepped outside, she closed the doors behind them."I've got a plan," she began, walking past Grayson. "Mason only opened up about the social contract once, and it was with you, after our visit to Brooklyn Heights Hospital," she continued, leaning against the stone balustrade. "Since then, he's been keeping it under wraps."
Grayson could see where Alison was heading with this. He took a deliberate step forward, narrowing the distance between them. There were a few issues with her plans that he needed to address,beginning with his role as bait.
"Alison-" but before he could, Alison kicked off her heels and gracefully perched herself on the stone balustrade. In a swift motion, she unpinned her hair, letting the breeze whisk it freely.
Grayson was surprised by her sudden action, but he hid his shock well. She turned towards him, her face lit by the moon, making her features stand out. His gaze locked onto her, almost unable to look away, so entranced that he didn't dare to blink.
"And when Mason confesses..."With a graceful motion, she extended her arms like a bird stretching its wings. "I'll be free."
Alison smiled at him, a smile that sent tremors through Grayson's entire being. It was a genuine, flawless, perfect smile that looked exactly like the last photograph he took of Emily before her passing.
Alison appeared to sense a sudden shift in the atmosphere. She gracefully descended from the balcony, her earlier confidence replaced by confusion as she gazed at Grayson. "Gray?" Her hands reached out tentatively, drawing nearer. But just as they were on the verge of touching, Grayson instinctively stepped back.
Alison's hand hung in the air, her face remaining impassive, yet Grayson glimpsed a trace of hurt in her blue eyes. He recognized the pain he had caused, a pang of regret gnawing at him. If only he could rewind time and undo that step he took, both physically and emotionally.
Slowly, Alison lowered her hand, her gaze never wavering from his. She concealed her pain well, her expression resuming its neutral demeanour. It was as if the flicker of hurt had never existed, but Grayson knew better. He understood that his actions had wounded her, even if her face concealed it.
"What did I do?" she asked gently.
Grayson paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered her question. It wasn't a simple matter to explain. Now that he thought about it, there were undeniable similarities between Alison and Emily.
Alison had long, ebony hair that flowed in soft waves, quite different from Emily's strawberry blonde locks. Yet, both possessed a certain delicate beauty. Their braids, though showing different colours, held the same graceful charm. Alison's sapphire eyes glittered like precious gems, while Emily's sparkled in emerald green. And they both shared an enchanting twinkle that was hard to ignore.
It wasn't only that. Emily's playful spirit seemed to echo in Alison's nature. Being with Alison rekindled a familiar sensation, something Grayson thought he had lost forever until he met Avery.
With Avery, Grayson had worries about history repeating itself, like it did with Emily, if he allowed himself to get too close. And he didn't want the same fate for Alison either.
Yet, in moments like dancing with Alison or feeling her lips against his, the echoes of Emily pained him deeply, because despite the similarities, Alison wasn't Emily...
"It's Emily, isn't it?" Alison seemed to pick up on details swiftly, as if the only thing on her mind was Grayson, and that tugged at his heart.
"It was your smile," he confessed, his response evasive as he averted his gaze. "Emily's smile..."
Alison's gaze lingered on Grayson, her voice a gentle breeze. "What about Emily?" she observed gently, her tone inviting but not intrusive. Grayson sensed that Alison was attempting to create an opening, a chance to learn more about Emily, about him.
Maybe he should tell her what happened, that he was responsible for Emily's death, and why it could be dangerous for her to be around him and his family.
"Emily was like a force of nature," Grayson began, choosing his words carefully, uncertain whether to proceed. "So full of life, so filled with dreams." He paused, his voice growing softer. "And then... she was gone."
Grayson's gaze lifted, meeting Alison's, and for an instant, he wished he hadn't because as soon as he locked eyes with her deep blue irises, it felt as though he were sinking, drowning even.
"What about you?" she asked, the night breeze tousling their hair, pulling Grayson toward the balcony's edge.
He felt a tear forming at the corner of his eye, something that hadn't happened in years. He looked away then, towards the moonlit garden. "I killed her." Grayson swallowed hard, a lump in his throat making it tough to speak. He understood that he couldn't keep his secrets hidden from Alison if he wanted to move forward, but did he truly want that?
A heavy silence settled between them, only interrupted by the gentle rustling of leaves in the garden. Alison inched closer to Grayson, joining him as they both gazed at the moon. "I know you didn't kill her."
"You don't know what I did." Grayson's reply was quick and sharp, his voice dripping with tension as if daring Alison to delve deeper into his painful past.
Alison's attention remained on the moon, her voice soft and tender as she continued. "I know you loved Emily." The words were gentle, yet they seemed somewhat hollow. "I know you fiddle with your cuffs to keep your composure, to keep your emotions in check."
Grayson clenched his fists, his anger and sadness intertwined. His frustration and anger seemed to grow by every passing second. He wanted to lash out, to push Alison away, but something in her presence made it difficult for him to do so.
"I know you hate it when my hair is in two braids. I know you-"
"You don't know me," Grayson's interruption was swift and sharp. Alison's head tilted slightly to meet his gaze, her sapphire eyes unusually dark in the moon's pale glow - even darker than the deepest brown. "I know you're not a killer, Grayson."
The use of his name hit him; Alison rarely used his name unless she meant something profound. Otherwise, he was Mr. Know It All.
"You don't know me," Grayson continued, as he felt the need to clarify something.
"I know you," Alison retorted firmly. "But I don't know Emily."
Grayson's jaw tightened, and a wave of frustration flashed across his features. His emotions boiled over, prompting him to take a step closer to Alison, their faces inches apart. He grasped her arms with a painful, tight grip, pinning her against the balustrade. "You have no idea what I'm capable of," he warned, his voice resonating with a deep, ominous tone. "My family and I, we break everything we touch. You can't fix me."
Their eyes stayed fixed on each other, a quiet competition, like a staring match, no one willing to be the first to blink or turn away. Grayson hated that this felt like a game. If there was anything Emily had taught Grayson besides love, it's that everything was just a game, even moments like this one. The only thing you get to decide in life is if we play to win.
"I don't need to fix you," Alison closed her eyes. "Because you were never broken."
It took Grayson a few seconds to grasp her words. He realized that Alison had closed her eyes because she knew that Grayson needed to feel some sort of victory to get his bearings back. She knew he needed to win.
They remained in that position for a moment, Grayson atop Alison, her back against the balustrade. Then, in an instant, Grayson realized he had gone too far. He let go of his grip on Alison's arm, stepping back abruptly. He backed away, his anger dissipating into a blend of frustration and regret.
Alison opened her eyes, their gazes meeting once again. She looked at him as if he was broken but with each lingering moment, it was as though her unwavering warmth was mending his shattered pieces, putting him back together.
"Alison, you are the reason it hurts so much," Grayson thought to himself. "To see you act like Emily. To smile like Emily. You remind me of what I did to her..." He couldn't say the words out loud, but the guilt in his eyes said it all. His gaze fell upon the red mark on her skin and he could see the faint imprint of his fingers. "Of what I'd done to you, Alison..."
He swallowed the lump in his throat, his breath trembling as he managed to find his voice. "You deserve better, Alison."
Alison didn't shy away from his anger; instead, she faced it head-on. She took a step toward him, then another, and another, until they stood at arm's length. "I might deserve better," she whispered. And then, she gently rose on her tiptoes to whisper the rest in his ear. "But I want you. I want all of you - your flaws, your mistakes, your smiles, your jokes, even your giggles if you have them. I just want you, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne."