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And then I think about the after. The tears. The truth. He told me what happened when he was in Iraq. The horrible things he’s went through.
Watching his fingers move over the keys, his words filling the space between us, I sigh in relief. Our secrets were out. Our wounds were on display, ready and waiting for us to take the next step into whatever our future holds.
When he’s finished with the song, he sighs, his shoulders rolling forward. I gasp at the sight. My broken boy, so lost, so… beautiful in his vulnerability.
I move from the bed, Grayson’s shirt falling off my shoulders as I make my way toward him. I touch my hands to his shoulders, my lips pressing to the top of his head.
He turns to face me and I stand between his legs. His hands move to the backs of my legs, up, under the shirt to the cheeks of my ass. Tingles trail up my spine at his touch. “I love you,” he whispers into my stomach, holding me close to him.
I wrap my arms around his head, cradling his face to my chest. “I love you too. And you sound just like I remember.”
He lifts his head, our stare holding. “You make me feel shiny and new.”
I smile. “Like a virgin.”
He chuckles and squeezes me harder, but doesn’t say anything more. We pause, as if we don’t know what comes next. I don’t. Last night… well, it’s easy to think you’re going to be strong and get through the really shitty parts of being in a long standing relationship with someone, but until you’re there, until you’re staring down at either walking away, or making it work, you don’t know how hard that is.
Some give up.
Some walk away.
They see the white flag waving and realize maybe there’s not enough to salvage.
But I won’t. Not when it comes to Grayson. Because he won’t. He fought hard to get where he’s at now. Sure, it wasn’t easy. He was mean and damn near unbearable to be around most days, but I couldn’t leave him. Not after what he went through to get back to me.
“Are we going to be okay?”
Grayson’s brow furrows. Last night, I intended on leaving him. I guess in some ways, I waved that white flag. I compared him to Shane, told him I’d had enough if he wasn’t going to try. But he stopped me. He gave me his truths and let me in.
He stares at me for longer than I would expect before he mumbles, “I don’t know.”
He’s right. He doesn’t know. Hell, I don’t know if we’re going to be okay. Tomorrow it could all fall apart.
You can say you’re going to heal, but until that time comes, you don’t know.
You know what you do?
You try. You put in the fucking effort.
Grayson draws in a ragged breath, his hold tighter. And then it happens. He cries. For the first time in I don’t know how long. Months. Years. Forever. I don’t know, but I’d never seen this side until now.
But I let him.
I hold him, trying to fill the hole inside him with my presence in his life. He sobs, clinging to me as if his life is dependent on it. That day, the one that changed everything flashes behind my closed lids. Only now, I picture him screaming for them to stop and Matt, though I don’t know what he looks like. I envision what this man holding onto me has been through and there’s beauty in it, believe it or not. Because he’s here. He’s been to hell and back and though we’re still broken, that’s fighting. Some give up and he didn’t.
It’s minutes, maybe longer, when his sobs slow and his grip on me loosens. He drops his hands from me and runs them over his eyes, drawing in a quick breath. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m a mess.”
I lift his chin carefully, my own tears falling from my cheeks. I hold his face in my hands. “You’re my favorite mess.” I repeat what I told him the first time I helped him shower. He needs to know that no matter what, I’m here. Just like I was then.
“You can leave and I won’t hold it against you,” he whispers. “I’d understand.”
“Are you saying this because of what you told me last night?”
He nods.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I assure him, shaking my head, my words gentle and assuring. “We’re getting our shitty shit together. We’re going to go to therapy and heal. We’re going to get married and have babies. We’re going to have a future, regardless of what has happened to us.”
His bloodshot eyes hold mine. “I don’t deserve you.”