7 years & 3 months later
♔
gray's point of view
• • •
Cheers erupt around me, filling the stadium with dull noise. I don't even look down at the soccer field, choosing to trace my eyes across the bright blue skyline instead. It does little to ease my restlessness.
"Gray," a voice to my right says, snapping me out of my trance. "Calm down. Enjoy the game."
I shake my head. "I am watching. Get off my dick, Tom."
Tommy scoffs. "No, you're not. You're thinking about her again. Just say you miss her, dude. We understand."
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees and rubbing my face. A tired groan escapes me. "I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about her today. It feels like she left just yesterday."
A hand reaches over Tommy and pats me on my shoulder. "We all miss her," Violet says gently. "But there's nothing any of us could've done about it. Letting her go was the best choice you could've made for her."
Tommy adds, "We all wish she could be here with us right now."
"You just have to trust that she's okay. Even if you're not there with her," Sadie reassures. "She'd want you to enjoy yourself. You deserve that, Gray."
"I know," I say quietly, rubbing my eyes roughly. A part of me will always feel empty when she's not around. "I just don't think I'll ever get used to her not being here. She should've been here today, watching all this."
I lift my head and finally look down at the soccer game unfolding below us. The US Women's National Soccer Team is tied with Brazil's, and the spectators are charged with excitement. I'm trying so hard to get lost in the energy, but I can't concentrate.
I can't stop missing her.
My eyes track the ball as a familiar blonde gains possession, dribbling down the field in a fashion that I've seen so many times before. Peyton sprints down the field, taking on the last defender left between her and the goal. She shoots, and we all hold our breaths as the ball flies in slow-motion toward the net. The goalie's fingers graze the underside of the ball, tipping its trajectory upward the slightest bit. Nonetheless, it still makes it into the upper-right corner of the net.
Everyone explodes into cheers once more. Violet shoots upward out of her seat, screaming and jumping up and down. Tommy and Sadie get up as well, yelling almost as loud. I stand up in time to see Peyton's eyes, glittering with adrenaline and glory, scanning the crowd to find us.
"GOOOOOAL. Scored in the 61st minute by number eleven, Peyton Graham," the stadium announcer says over the speakers. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the 50th goal of her international career. That puts the United States up 2-1."
After her teammates tackle, congratulate, and release her, Peyton holds up two thumbs that I return, a far-away congratulations for her amazing goal. Even from here, I can see her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she takes in the four of us standing here. Just the four of us.
She grins and cradles her arms in front of her, mimicking the motion of rocking a baby. I grin and gesture over my shoulder. Peyton's smile widens and she turns back around to join her teammates, lingering her eyes on us as she walks away.
Sadie turns to me, a concerned look on her face. "Maybe you should go make sure they're okay. She's been gone with him for a pretty long ti--"
A sharp wail interrupts her from behind, growing closer by the second. Finally, the sad pang in my chest eases up a bit, and I stand as the source of the cries approaches. I stop at the edge of the row, watching as a woman walks down the stadium stairs with a red-faced baby struggling in her arms. Her hazel eyes hold a loving but concerned look as she tries to soothe him.
I bend down to kiss her, noting the worried look on her gorgeous face. "I was just about to go look for you, baby. I thought you said you were just going to the bathroom."
She sighs, looking down at our child. "I was, but then he started crying while I was washing my hands. I changed his diaper, fed him, burped him, everything. I even sat down and tried to rock him to sleep. He just wouldn't calm down."
We both look down at our son. I stroke his almost completely bald head, covered in soft peach fuzz and a few fine strands of hair. His cries have calmed down to pitiful whimpers, but his grey eyes are trained on me. I smile down at his chubby face, taking him out of her arms. I kiss his soft cheeks, and he starts gurgling happily. I lead her back to our seats, and I place him in my lap.
"Of course," she says, resting her head on my shoulder. "He calms down as soon as you hold him. I carry him for over nine months, and he comes out a daddy's boy. Great."
I laugh and kiss her forehead reassuringly, just as she asks, "So what did I miss?"
"Eh, just the greatest goal of PG's career. And Gray moping about Gracie staying away from home," Tommy informs her. "Isn't she just at some soccer camp in Tennessee? He's flipping out over nothing."
She turns to me, a sympathetic frown on her face. "Babe, I bet she's having a great time. She's almost fifteen. It's good that she's out there doing something she loves."
I huff in semi-agreement, putting baby Archer's tiny USA bucket hat onto his head, shielding his happy face from the harsh sun. After watching me do this, his mother smiles and reaches into her bag. She pulls out an identical bucket hat, only larger, and places it on my head. "There, I bought it before I went to the bathroom," she says, pleased with herself. "Like father, like son."
I lean over to press a kiss to her soft lips. Her fingers reach up and rest on the slight stubble of my jaw. "Perfect," I say against her mouth.
Archer laughs and reaches his tiny hands up between our faces. He grasps one of her fingers, pulling her hand in front of his face for inspection. We both laugh, enamored by the little human between us.
"Hey!" my wife exclaims playfully as Archer attempts to slip the diamond ring off her left hand. "Archie, that's Mommy's."
"Technically, it's Daddy's, but he gave it to Mommy," I tease, twirling my own ring around my finger. "And he spent a lot of money on it, too."
"Does Daddy want it back from Mommy?" she asks, slowly sliding her wedding ring off her finger. Her full lips spread into a teasing grin.
I lace my hand in hers, stopping her in her tracks. "Never in a million years, baby."
"I think I should confiscate your child from you," Violet says, watching us critically. "I don't want Archie seeing this sappy sh--"
"Language, Vi. Baby is present," Sadie chides.
"--enanigans. Sappy shenanigans," Violet finishes. "You have no faith in me."
"Well, considering Gracie found out about orgies at the age of seven thanks to you and that boyfriend of yours, I don't know what you expect me to base that faith on," I comment.
"Gracie would've figured it out soon enough. Isn't that Liam kid at that soccer camp with her? Did you make sure they were staying in separate rooms? Separate beds, hopefully?" Tommy says.
I shove him over, trying to knock the thoughts of Gracie and Liam from my mind. I should've tried harder to keep that little twerp away from her. No matter how big my little sister gets, she'll always be too young for boys.
"Tom," I warn, "If you keep talking, you might get yourself uninvited to dinner tomorrow. Wouldn't want that, would you?"
Tommy widens his eyes dramatically and pretends to zip his mouth shut then throw away the key. I roll my eyes, bobbing Archer on my knee. He laughs wildly, wrapping his little hands around my thumbs to hold on.
My wife leans further into my side, wrapping her arm around my bicep and watching our son with a beautifully affectionate gaze. I watch her with an equally adoring look in my eyes. My entire world, my whole heart, is right here, and they're not going anywhere.
"What's on your mind, baby?" I ask softly, pulling Archer so he's leaning against me. He starts to suck his fist and tip to the right, and my wife gently repositions him.
With one hand, I tilt her chin so her hazel eyes are resting on me. She shrugs, but a soft smile is growing on her face. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to share a life with you," she says quietly, loud enough for just me to hear.
I lean down and kiss her perfect lips softly, forgetting, for a second, that there are thousands of people sitting around us. It's just the two of us and our child dozing off to sleep between us. Our little family.
"I love you, Riv."
♔
lmao, y'all really thought I killed her. killing Riv would've broken my heart just as much as it would've broken yours. also, I couldn't do that to my baby Gray :')
also this shit is comin' at you ONE DAY EARLY. I deserve a kiss.
♔
river's point of view
♔
I lay on our bed with my head resting on Gray's bicep. Our noses are almost touching, and I can feel his every breath, but we're not looking at each other. We're both making as few sounds as possible, watching our baby lying between us as he finally flutters his eyelids shut. I count every rise and fall of his tiny chest, and I know Gray's doing the same.
He's so perfect. And we created him—this perfect, tiny human being that's half me and half the man I love.
Chewie lays at the foot of the bed, resting his head on his large paws but keeping his eyes on Archer, watching over him protectively.
Archer's tiny fists are clenched, sprawled our next to his head. I want to reach out and touch his soft, new skin of his hand but I don't want to wake him.
"Finally," Gray whispers beside me. "Little man put up a fight."
I laugh quietly. "I wonder where he gets that from," I say, turning my head up to look at my husband.
"I have no idea," Gray says, looking up to meet my gaze. Even after all these years, his smile looks exactly the same. "Definitely not from me. I've never fought anyone in my life."
I place my hand on his cheek. "Well then I must've watched some other guy beat up Tyler Herring in the school hallway eight years ago."
"Must have," he murmurs, kissing the corner of my mouth. "You must've watched some other guy beat up Trevor at that house party seven years ago too," he adds, going in for another kiss.
A wave of sadness passes over me, and I pull away slightly from him. Then I sit up, crossing my legs slowly in front of me, careful to not disturb Archie. I gaze at his tiny lips, parted slightly as he breathes quietly. There's a sudden heaviness in my chest.
Gray sits up beside me, wrapping his arms around me so I'm leaning against his chest. I try to discretely wipe my eyes, but Gray doesn't miss anything. His hand cups my cheek and he coaxes me to look at him. His grey eyes study me for a second, mirroring my sadness.
"I'm sorry, baby," he says quietly, wiping away my small tears. "I didn't mean to remind you."
I sniff, starting to slide off the bed. "I'm going to put Archie in his crib," I say quickly.
But Gray beats me to it. "No, I got it," he assures, already leaning over to scoop his son into his arms. I kiss his chubby cheek then lean back against the headboard as I watch Gray cradle the small baby in his large arms. I'd be lying if I said the sight didn't lift my spirits the tiniest bit.
Then I look across the room into the mirror hanging above my vanity. Staring at my reflection, I raise my fingers to touch the dark, thin scar running from the top of my forehead to my right temple, just barely missing my eye. Then it all hits me again. I lay down.
Gray softly kisses his son's fuzzy head and leaves the room, rocking him slightly. Chewie hops off the bed and follows him, no doubt prepared to sleep in Archie's room all night.
When he gets back a few minutes later, Gray places the baby monitor on his nighttsand and slides back into our bed. He lays down facing me and drapes his arm over my waist. We sit in silence for a few seconds before my tears start coming again.
"I'm sorry," I whisper sadly, wiping my cheeks. "I'm sorry I don't remember that happening. And I'm sorry that you have to apologize for mentioning something that I should remember."
Gray pulls me into him again and kisses my cheek. I look at him with misty eyes, wondering just how many times I've looked into these eyes without remembering. I wonder how many of our kisses I've forgotten.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he reassures, cupping my damp cheek. I sniff unattractively, and he goes on. "Baby, you didn't have any control over what happened to your memory. None of it matters, I promise."
"Gray, I don't remember anything that happened during the eight months leading up to my fall," I say, tearing up again. "I only know what happened because people have told me about it, you know that. But I'll never remember it for myself, and I'm sorry."
I drop my gaze and play with his wedding ring. "I'll never remember our first kiss," I whisper.
Then he kisses me, keeping me from spiraling into my dark thought process. When we break away, he's smiling. "You remember that kiss, don't you?"
I sigh. "But the first time you kissed me--"
"Riv, every time I kiss you feels like the first time," he finishes for me, dragging his thumb softly over my lower lip. "Yet somehow, infinitely better."
I frown at him but kiss him again anyway. "I still wish I remembered falling love with you," I say. I run my fingers through his soft hair.
Gray looks up, and I recognize his thinking face. Then his intense eyes meet mine again, and he starts playing with my necklace, the one he gave to me all those years ago. "You remember falling in love with me the second time," he says.
I can't fight off my smile. "Of course I do. I remember falling hard, too," I admit. "You kissed me five days after I woke up from my coma."
Gray laughs. "You kissed me, baby. I was just trying to feed you strawberry jello, and you attacked me," he clarifies.
"I don't remember you complaining," I point out. I also remember that kiss being so intense that my heart rate spiked enough for the nurses to run in to check on me. They came in to find Gray half-laying on my hospital bed with me and delirious smiles on both of our faces.
"Of course I didn't complain. What kind of man would I have been if I rejected a hospital patient's wishes?" He says, grinning. Then his face turns serious. "And I was still hopelessly in love with you, Riv. Even when you were just beginning to fall back in love with me."
He looks down, and I lace my fingers into his. "It didn't take me long," I remind him. "I told you I loved you two weeks after that. I thought I was going insane, falling for you so fast."
"Thank God you did. I don't know how long I would've lasted without having you in my arms," he says, then kisses me again. This time, I comb my fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. Gray moves slightly so I'm almost under him, and his chest is flush against mine. As we our lips move together, deeply and lovingly, I get closer and closer to forgetting that I'd ever forgotten any one of our kisses.
Being absolutely in love with him right now is all that matters. I treasure every single memory that I do have, simply because they led me here, wrapped up in his strong body and knowing that'll never change.
I place my hands on both sides of his face and pull away. "You know what else I remember?" I ask, smiling up at him. His dark eyes are trained on my swollen lips, but he entertains my question. "What do you remember, baby?"
I laugh, almost forgetting what I'd been sad about in the first place. "I remember when you proposed to me four years ago."
Gray chuckles above me, then lowers himself on me and buries his head in my neck. "You know, that's one memory I'd be okay with you losing," he mumbles.
"But it's one of my favorites! I remember you planning an elaborate cabin getaway in the mountains of Colorado," I say. "I remember the nights we spent. Alone in that cabin."
He rises up onto his elbows, looking down at me mischievously. "I don't think I remember those nights. Care to jog my memory of what exactly we did? Alone in that cabin?"
His fingers snake under the hem of my tank top, and he kisses my jaw. I let out a sigh. "You're not going to distract me," I laugh as he keeps kissing my skin. "Remember when we left the cabin and hiked to the summit of the closest mountain?"
"No, not at all." His lips make their way down to the side of my neck, and it takes a lot of effort to keep my focus.
"Then when we got to the top, there was a bouquet of roses and bottle of champagne?"
"Nope."
"Then you stood in front of me and you got down on one knee."
"No, no, that never happened."
"And then you reached into your jacket pocket."
"Riv, I don't know where you come up with this stuff."
"And then the ring wasn't there," I finish, barely holding back a laugh, just as his lips graze my collarbone. At that, he raises his face back over mine.
"I swear, I put it in my pocket before we left the cabin," he defends. "I had everything planned. I even had Tommy run up that fucking mountain thirty minutes before us to place the roses and champagne. It was supposed to be perfect for you."
I tap his nose. "It was still perfect, babe. And the ring box was still stuffed inside one of your socks when we got back," I laugh, remembering the look on Gray's face when he found it there. "Remember what happened after that?"
"Of course," he says. His knee slides up to press between my legs, and I let out a soft, involuntary moan. "But tell me anyways so I can hear the words come out of your mouth."
I try to ignore the pressure of his knee between my thighs. "I said yes, then you swept me off my feet and we didn't leave the cabin for three days after that," I gasp.
"I had a beautiful new fiancé and an indoor hot tub. I had no reason to leave the cabin. Or the bedroom, for that matter." He smiles coyly and leans down to kiss me again. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him back down to me, still smiling after recounting that memory.
Just one in the sea of perfect moments we've spent together.
"Do you remember our wedding?" He says lowly into my ear, nipping it softly afterward. I laugh into his hair and wrap my legs around his hips.
"How could I forget getting married to the love of my life?" I sigh, arching to my neck to the side to allow him to kiss the curve of my shoulder. "I remember you crying as I walked down the aisle."
Gray moves up from my neck, kisses my cheek tenderly, then my mouth. "The most beautiful woman in the world was walking toward me in a white dress. I couldn't help it," he says quietly holding his face right above mine.
I pull him down for another soft kiss, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs as I hold his face, just as I did when I reached him at the end of the aisle.
"You looked so handsome in your black suit," I say, studying his perfect, sharp features. The face I'll never get tired of.
"Words can't describe how gorgeous you looked, baby," Gray says, bringing his hand up to the side of my neck. I tilt my head into his hand.
"We read our own vows," I continue, tracing his cheekbone with the tip of my finger. "You saw me crying and you kissed me before the officiant said that you could kiss the bride."
Gray smiles. "I wasn't going to let some old dude tell me when I could or couldn't kiss my wife."
Then he presses his lips to mine once again, just to prove his point. He takes his hands off me for a second to yank his shirt over his head, then snakes his hands under the arch of my back to hold me against his bare chest. I moan softly, then pull away.
"What about our wedding night?"
Gray smirks then kisses my jaw. "What about our wedding night?"
I caress my hands down the toned muscles of his back, stopping at the hem of his boxer briefs. "We were loud," I laugh.
I feel Gray smile against my skin. His hand snakes into my hair and pulls slightly. I moan as he whispers in my ear. "It was my first night as your husband. I was determined to have you screaming my name all night, just to make sure everyone knew you were my wife."
And he did just that.
"Even in the presidential suite, we got a noise complaint from the other guests at the hotel. I think I ripped part of your suit," I breathe.
"You did. But I also ripped the strap of your dress, so we were even," he adds. His hands slowly drag up the sides of my body, pulling my tank top up. He stops just before he pulls it over my breasts. "But I think we both need to be reminded of what happened that night, Mrs. Maddox."
"I think so too, Mr. Maddox," I breathe.
Then I grin, raising my arms above my head to allow him to undress me. Before Gray pulls it over my head, he kisses me again. His tongue parts my lips and I start getting lost in him all over again.
A sound to our left jolts us both out of our passion. Sharp wails flow through the baby monitor, and there's slight movement on its tiny black-and-white screen.
Archie's awake.
Gray groans and falls back onto his side of the bed, crossing one leg over the other awkwardly. I pull my tank top back down and sit up, laughing. "I'll get it," I say.
He grabs my wrist before I can get up. "No, I got it. Just give me a second," he says, strain heavy in his voice. I lay back down and kiss his shoulder. A few seconds later, he finally gets up.
When he comes back into the room, Archie is sitting in his arms, rubbing his tired eyes. Gray is saying something to him, rubbing circles on his small back. My heart swells.
"Want to say 'hi' to Mommy?" He asks, lowering himself onto the bed and leaning back next to me.
I reach out my arms, grasping Archie under his arms and pulling him into my lap. "Hi, baby," I coo, kissing his cool cheeks. Gray reaches over and takes his tiny hand in his, kissing it. "You weren't asleep for very long, were you? What's wrong?" He asks.
Of course, Archie doesn't answer. He hiccups once then smiles. Beside me, Gray says, "You fed him before he fell asleep the first time, right?"
I nod, looking at my husband. "Did you check his diaper?"
Gray takes Archie in his arms and turns him around, sniffing his butt. His face scrunches slightly, and I laugh. "Diaper change, it is," I say. Then I yawn widely, feeling my fatigue set in fully.
Gray starts to get up with Archie. "I got it. You got up the last two times," I try to insist.
I yawn again, and Gray keeps getting up. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll be back in one second," he convinces. He turns to Archie, whose eyelids are drooping just like mine. "Say goodnight to Mommy again. Hopefully for the last time tonight," he says. He takes Archie's arm in his hand and mimicks Archie blowing me a kiss.
I blow both of them a kiss back and rest my head on the pillow. Gray turns off the light as he leaves with Archie, and my eyelids fall right away.
Just before I drift off to sleep, I feel the bed dip next to me as Gray gets back into our bed. His arm wraps around my waist and he effortlessly pulls me forward against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder before he lays his head down.
I'm too tired to respond, and he must think I've already fallen asleep. With a feather-laugh touch, Gray slowly traces my bottom lip, and I feel his eyes trained on me. The kiss he presses to my lips afterwards is so soft that I barely feel it.
"Goodnight, my love."
♔
I saw this photo and my heart actually exploded. it's literally their tiny little family and IT'S SO FUCKING CUTE!!!bonus epilogue coming in a few days because I love y'all so much <3