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“It’s not that. I love her.” The words come out of my mouth before I know what I’m saying, but I know it’s true.

I’ve always loved her.

He winces. “Shit. I didn’t know you felt that way about anyone. Is it new?”

“Sort of. We had a thing a few years ago, and I’ve never forgotten about her.”

I should feel guilty, telling all this to Grayson when it's about his little sister, but I’m heartbroken, and I don’t know where else to turn.

He nods tightly. “You know I understand that. God, when I first saw Lillian again and for a split second, I thought she’d gotten married to someone else, had a baby…” He shakes his head. “For the second before I realized Max was mine, I wanted to rip someone’s head off.”

“Yeah.” I sip my drink.

I should stop after this one, but something tells me we may be up all night.

“How do you know there’s someone else? Did you see it?”

“God, no.” If I had, I’d probably be in jail right now. “She told me.”

“Do you have a name?”

“No.” My teeth are gritted so tightly my jaw hurts. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

“So, we can’t ruin his life.” Grayson chuckles. “Probably for the best.”

I scoff. “So you say.”

Who is this guy, anyway? What will he do when she tells him she’s pregnant? Probably run off. He won’t be there for her like I would be.

Or God, what if he is? What if he asks her to marry him? She’d told me no. What if she tells him yes?

Feeling suddenly sick, I put the half-empty glass on the counter, plopping down onto the lounge couch that Grayson has in his office and sighing, looking up at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if I see them together.”

Grayson hums in the back of his throat. “I can’t blame you or give you good advice. I’d lose my mind if I saw Lillian with someone else.”

“I don’t even know if I’m asking for advice. I guess I just wanted to get it out of my system.”

“It’d be easier if you had someone to punch.”

I bark out a laugh. “I guess we could always spar.”

Grayson looks at his glass of whiskey. “This is my second glass; I’m not sparring anyone while I’m drunk.”

I groan. “I have to do something.”

“Why not tell her how you feel? Something tells me you haven’t told her you love her.”

Not lately.

I glance over at Grayson’s big picture window and have a brief memory of nearly being caught at his father’s picture window while sneaking out of Meredith’s room.

A rush of guilt washes over me.

“You’re a good friend, Grayson.” My words are definitely slurring now, and I seem to be sinking into the couch.

“Get some rest. It’ll make you feel better.” His voice comes from far away as my eyelids slip closed.