A splitting headache echoed in the depths of my skull when I woke up. Disoriented, I glanced around the room. Grayson was gone from his chair, but he'd left the lamp on my dresser on, casting a soft glow over the room. On the nightstand, he'd left a glass of water and a white pill. I took the notecard leaning against the glass and struggled to read it. It was Tylenol, and he was downstairs.
Gulping down the medicine, I clutched my head. Oh my gosh. I'd been so drunk. Not as drunk as my last episode–I at least remembered the past...how much time had passed? Glancing at the clock, I found out it was ten at night. Not to mention there were pockets I didn't remember. A new wave of horror hit me as I realized I'd been hitting on Grayson. What had I said to him? Probably something wildly inappropriate.
Shuddering, I sat up, sliding on my slippers. I pulled on my long cardigan from the back of the chair, cold. My head was now a flaming battlefield of pain, screaming at the Tylenol to start working. I shook the feeling away and shuffled across the rug.
As soon as I opened the bedroom door, the wafting smell of good food hit my nose. What good food it was, I wasn't sure, but it made me feel better. Slowly, I made my way down the staircase. I wasn't drunk anymore, but stairs were still a threat thanks to my headache.
Grayson was in the kitchen, his back to me as he worked at the stove. He didn't notice I was there. I cringed at my own voice as I croaked out, "Hi."
He whirled around, his eyes wide. But he smiled when he saw me, saying, "Hi. Are you feeling better?"
"Sort of. I'm sober, promise, but my head is a mess," I groaned, sitting down at the counter.
"Sorry," he said sympathetically. "Want some food? I'm making omelets."
"In the middle of the night?" I asked, smiling faintly.
"Omelets are always good," he countered, returning to his pan.
He was not wrong. "I'll take one, thanks," I said gratefully.
A couple minutes later, Grayson placed a plate in front of me, sitting down with his own meal next to me. He let me eat, which really meant he let me devour the entire omelet and I almost ate the plate with it.
"Want another?" he asked, taking my plate.
Embarrassed, I winced. "No, thank you. I appreciate it though."
Grayson raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? There's extra. And I'm guessing you're kind of starving," he said, once again knowing me too well.
"I'm really okay, but thanks." Perhaps eating would feel better later.
He nodded and put the plates in the dishwasher. I tucked my hands into the sleeves of my cardigan, hugging myself. Grayson flipped on the dishwasher and came back over to where I was sitting.
"I think you and I need to talk," he said softly. "Want to sit on the couch?"
I nodded silently and followed him into the living room, where he'd turned on the lamps. I curled up on one end of the couch while Grayson sat next to me. I'd never felt so ashamed in my life, but I still had to meet his gaze.
"I'm sorry for how I acted earlier," I said. "I don't remember all of it, to be honest, but I remember enough. Me being drunk is no excuse for me to treat you that way."
"Thank you. I appreciate it. But I did come here because Kylie told me you weren't doing so well," he said sincerely.
I cringed, remembering my previous conversation with my best friend. "What did she tell you?"
"Well, she said you were drunk and alluding to the fact that we'd slept together, so I figured it was pretty serious," he said matter-of-factly.
I covered my face with my hands, mortified. Grayson smiled and reached over to pull my wrists down. "It's okay, Jacks. Doesn't matter how drunk or mad you are; I'll always come if you need me."
He was saying all the right things, things that felt so wrong to hear from him. I curled up tighter, murmuring, "I appreciate you coming over."
"Yeah. I also, um, I figured that today being your due date...I put two and two together," Grayson confessed.
It was like I slammed a gate down over my face. Guarded, I said, "We don't have to..."
"Yes, we do need to talk about it," he said firmly. "Jackie, I know we have been on horrible terms but this is really worrying to me. I'm not even going to admonish you for drinking so much; you already know how disappointed I am about that. But I need to know if you're okay."
I shrugged. "Of course I'm okay. It was months ago."
"You're not okay. You're hurting and unless you've told someone else about Everlie, you can't keep holding onto all these feelings by yourself," he said, reaching over and taking my hand. I shivered; his touch felt so unfamiliar yet so warm and cozy.
"I haven't told anyone," I said slowly. "But that's fine. By next week I'll be back to normal."
"Jacks, please don't do this to yourself," he said softly.
"I'm not doing anything," I said, my heart constricting.
Grayson stayed quiet for a moment before opening both arms to me. I shook my head, fighting back tears. He was the only person in the world who knew about the daughter I'd lost, yet talking about it would crush me.
"Oh, Jacks," he murmured, brushing away the stray tear that had escaped.
That's when it broke. The fence, the careful wall I'd built around myself crumbled. Grayson wrapped his arms around me as I sobbed into his shoulder, completely shattered inside.
"She's gone," I cried, holding on with everything in me. "She's gone, and I never had her. We were supposed to have a child, Grayson, but we never even got to meet her."
"I know, darling, let it all out," he whispered, rubbing my back as he held me.
"I didn't even want a baby," I sniffled. "But then it was like the greatest thing ever, and I was so excited and I felt like I finally had someone worth living for. That my life wasn't just sad and work and boring. I bought outfits and thought about painting a nursery and it was so magical but..." I trailed off in broken sobs, hiding deeper in the folds of his shirt.
For a while he didn't say anything, but then I realized Grayson had tears shining on his face, too. Part of me felt terrible; he was mourning too, yet he was still holding on for my sake. Guilt was thrown into my emotional hurricane, making me cling to him tighter.
"You can talk to me too," I said, swallowing back a sob. "It's your daughter as much as mine."
"Yeah," he whispered. "Sometimes I think about how crazy her life would've been, between us, but I always wish I could've known her."
"She would've loved you so much," I murmured. "And you would've made an amazing dad." As messed up as my relationship with him was, I wouldn't have picked anyone else to be the father to my child.
"Thank you," he said, his voice strained. "You would've been the best mom."
I squeezed out a few more tears before asking, "Do you think it'll ever get better? Or every year you'll find me like this?"
"I don't know," he murmured. "I don't know, Jackie. I wish I had an answer for you but I don't."
So many questions with so few answers. That was pretty much the description of last year. Bowing my head against his shoulder, I held onto Grayson a little tighter. We sat on the couch together for hours, sometimes crying, sometimes not. Sometimes we'd ask each other how we were doing and the answer was always 'okay.' None of it was okay, but okay was the best we had right now.
My heart ached so much. No amount of bandages, medication, or hugs in the world could fix it. There would always be a small hole there, meant just for Everlie. Sometimes, it wouldn't hurt as much. Other times there were days like today, when it was bleeding out and trying to kill me. But slowly, as I sat on the couch, the bleeding was slowing down, returning to the throbbing ache.
Sometime after midnight, it hit me. How I'd messed up so hard and yet he was still here, sitting in my house. I froze momentarily, not sure of what to do. Because Grayson was still holding me, still trying his best to patch up the hole. Even though it was probably killing him, he was still there. I'd been doing okay for the past half hour or so, but now the tears came back thick and hot, streaming down my face.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" Grayson asked gently, shifting so he could tuck me into his side.
"I'm sorry," I sobbed into his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Grayson."
"No, no, don't be sorry, Jacks," he soothed, but I shook my head. He didn't understand; this was something I could apologize for.
"I have to be, because you've been nothing but nice and kind and you really do love me, I just was so stupidly blind I couldn't see it," I said tearfully, my words gushing. "You didn't deserve to be pushed away, not after you've given me the whole world."
He hugged me a little harder, whispering, "Jackie, it's okay, you've had an awful day. You don't have to talk about this right now."
"But I do, it's not fair to either of us," I said, wiping my eyes and finally facing him. "I'm so sorry I accused you of lying and hiding things. I'm really, really sorry I kept us apart when really we're the best thing for each other. Grayson, you're the sweetest person I've ever met, and while I don't deserve you in the slightest after how I've treated you, you're still here taking care of me."
Taking a tissue from the side table, he dabbed at my tears as he said softly, "Jacks, I can't not take care of you. I'm always going to take care of you. That won't ever change, whether we're the best of friends or worst of enemies. It doesn't matter if you love me or not, that's not how it works for me. Whether you call me or Kylie calls me, I'm a plane ticket away from you. If you need me, I'm there."
"No, I know, but..." How could I explain it? That truthfully, I did love him? That it'd been too irrational to love him, so instead I'd pushed him as far away as possible? That I'd been so wrapped up in the mechanics of love that I'd forgotten to love him entirely in my foolishness?
That I'd missed him.
That if I could, I would press rewind and go back to Tuvalu and say yes.
That I wished we were in our own house right now, instead of him just in mine.
There were so many things. The list went on for far too long.
Taking a deep breath, I said quietly, "I of all people don't deserve a second chance. I rejected you, I pushed you away, I stopped being friends with you, and I barely spoke to you when our best friends were getting married. It was selfish of me and unfair to you. I'm sorry."
He gave me a sad smile. "I can forgive you for all that," he said, holding onto me a little tighter.
"Thank you. I feel terrible, especially since I'm still being a little bit selfish," I said, my voice shaking. "Grayson, you're the most amazing person I've ever met. You have a heart of gold and a patience unlike any other. If someone had told me a year ago that I would meet someone so incredible, and that I'd be such good friends with them, I'd have laughed in their face and told them they've been reading too many of Nina's books. You were an impractical, unexpected surprise that I couldn't have planned for even with a thousand years of trying to guess how we'd meet. But I wouldn't trade you for any other unexpected impracticality in the world."
He looked down at our intertwined hands, his hazel eyes revealing that his thoughts were running at a million miles an hour. "Jacks," he said softly, his tone cautious. That was all he said, unable to say anything else.
Leaning forward, I brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek. "I love you," I whispered. "I am just so sorry you had to hear that at such a terrible cost. I should've realized it sooner and not blown up at you. If you don't feel the same way anymore, or if you're sick of me not knowing what I'm doing, it's okay."
Grayson now looked alarmed as he frantically reached up, cupping my face in his hands. Momentarily, I melted, soaking in his gentle touch that I'd missed so badly. "Jackie, no, sweetheart, don't apologize for not figuring out how you felt," he said, brushing away the last of my tears. "Love takes time. It's not the same for everyone. It's not a magic spell. It's just us being human."
I leaned into his palms, exhaling. "I'm probably going to mess up again. That's part of being human, too."
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering only for a moment before whispering, "No matter how many times you mess up, I'll still love you. Nothing can change that, okay?" He tilted my chin up, smiling down at me. Instantly, my heart warmed, so full of comfort and happiness.
"Is it okay if I kiss you even though I'm kind of a disaster?" I asked hopefully.
Grayson laughed under his breath. "You can always kiss me, my gorgeous disaster."
Smiling, I leaned forward and gently pressed my lips to his. It wasn't that long of a kiss, a couple of seconds at most, but it still made my heart beat wildly. I'd never kissed him this way, and I knew he'd genuinely kissed me before, but I couldn't accept it back then. Now I wanted to kiss him a thousand times a day, every day of the year.
Breaking away, Grayson kept me close, his nose touching mine as we smiled at each other. "That was our first real kiss," I said in a quiet, happy voice.
Grinning, he pecked my lips. "That's our second one."
"We'll run out at this rate," I laughed as he quickly kissed my cheek, over and over. It kind of tickled, making me giggle.
"Run out?" he said. "Silly goose. We'll never run out. They'll last forever."
Oh, I hoped so.
Anything forever with Grayson sounded perfect.