Page 68 of All I Have Left

EVIE

W hen we reach Pinckard, I pull in behind Julia’s car.

Grayson’s stare lingers on his truck parked in the driveway with a tarp over it.

Wyatt wanted to take it to the junk yard but didn’t have it in him to do it.

The way he saw it, it’s Grayson’s truck.

He should be able to decide what happens to it.

To me, I can’t look at it. Every time I do, it sends a revolting wave of nausea through me. I can’t imagine what he thinks until he stops at it. “Why is this here?”

“Wyatt wasn’t sure what to do with it.”

“Fucking burn it,” he mumbles, tearing his eyes from it and then walking away.

Inside the house, Grayson makes it about twenty minutes before he excuses himself to his room. We hadn’t talked about what would happen now that we were home. Standing in the kitchen, I fill a glass of water for his medications.

Frankie comes in behind me, reaching beside me for a beer. “How is he?”

Frustration digs through my chest that I have no idea. “I don’t know. He barely talks.”

“That’s normal.” Frankie rubs my shoulder, the strap of my tank top falling in the process. She fixes the strap and smiles. “I wanted to say something earlier, for the last three weeks, but I can’t possibly contain myself anymore.”

I tilt my head toward hers, the glass of water in my hand set down. “What?”

Her cheeks flush as she draws in a breath and touches her hand to her stomach. “I’m… pregnant,” she whispers, and then rushes to add, “We found out the night he proposed at the lake, but didn’t want to say anything. I’m twelve weeks.”

I stare at her, absorbing the words and then the smile forms and I yank her to my chest. “Oh my God, really?”

“Yes,” she gasps, wrapping her arms around me. “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, but it seemed so silly to bring it up with everything going on.”

I pull out of the hug. “Ethan knows?”

She nods. “Yeah, totally. He was there when I took the test. We just agreed waiting until the right moment to tell you and Grayson.”

“Do your parents know?”

Frankie chews on her lip. “Yeah, we told them a couple weeks ago and your mom.”

Smiling, I cup my hands to her stomach and she wraps hers over mine. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an auntie.”

“I know!”

My eyes meet hers. “Are you guys moving the wedding up sooner or still waiting until next spring?”

“Ethan wants to do it before the baby is born. We’ve been talking about the end of September.”

“Oh, that’s like soon.”

“I know.” She frowns. “I wanted to wait for Grayson to be better, but I also don’t want to wait. Watching him go through all this only reminds us of how fragile life is. There’s no reason to wait. I’ve loved Ethan since I was twelve and he put gum in my hair because I wouldn’t share my fries.”

I laugh, remembering us trying to use peanut butter to get the gum out. “Then get married, Frankie. I’m sure Grayson will be okay with it. We’ll get through it.”

After a handful more hugs, I leave Frankie to take Grayson his medications. I decide I’m not going to tell him about Frankie. I’ll leave that to her, but it puts a smile on my face that finally after so long, there’s happiness in this house.

I enter his room, the air-conditioning kicking on the moment I open the door.

He’s sitting on the bed, staring at the wall where his piano used to be pushed against. Used to because Shane destroyed it when he broke in.

Behind it, the new window his parents had to install because Shane busted it out.

Anger pulses inside me, my cheeks heating that even this room will hold bad memories for us.

“Are you okay?” I ask, setting the glass of water and his medication on the nightstand. “Do you need anything?”

Shaking his head, he pats the side of the bed, the cane he refuses to use lying on the floor next to him. “No. Nothing but you.”

My breath hitches, shocked by the vulnerability I hear in his voice. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

His brow furrows as he takes the glass of water and then swallows the pills. And then he looks at me. “I… yeah. Do you want to?”

I approach him and then kneel between his legs, my hands on his thighs. His body reacts immediately, a sigh falling from his lips.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I hold my head against his chest, listening to his heart beating and remembering a time when it wasn’t. “I don’t know where this leaves us and I’m scared,” I admit, tears burning my throat.

I feel him sigh and press his lips to the top of my head. “What do you mean?”

“Are we… together?”

He tenses and reaches for the tops of my shoulders, easing me back. I stare up at him, at his face, which is finally clear of bruises, and at the stubble of hair he now has. “What would make you think we’re not?”

“I… don’t know. I don’t know how to navigate any of this and I’m terrified of doing the wrong thing,” I admit, waiting for the deep exhale I know is coming, the impassive expression I’ve been met with so many times.

But it doesn’t. Instead, his eyes glaze over and his face reflects a man who is scared of those same things. I see darkness, too, as something unpleasant holds his memory and his words from me.

Reaching out, he twists a curl of my hair around his finger, blinking slowly. “You’re all I have left.”

I break down, crying. You knew that was coming though, didn’t you?

Raising my hand to run it against the roughness of his slight stubble, I smile. “I love you,” I breathe, so thankful to have him here with me.

He cups my chin, running the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, his breath exhaled in a sigh as the words, “I love you, more than anything else in the fucking world,” come out, laced with so much promise.

A gasp leaves my lips. Do you know why? That’s the last thing he said to me before he reached for the door handle and got out of the truck that night.

Grayson scrubs both hands over his face. “This is frustrating.”

“What is?”

He hangs his head momentarily, closing his eyes before lifting his head back up and meeting my questioning gaze.

Sorrow is evident on his face. “I want you . I want to lay you on this bed.” He pauses, his fingertips tracing my collarbone again and pushing the strap on my tank top off my shoulder, sincerity in his eyes.

“I want to do so many things to you, yet I can’t.

Not because they tell me I can’t, but because physically, it’s exhausting.

Even walking from one room the next.” He swallows, a slow shake to his head. “You don’t deserve that.”

I take his face in my hands. “I want you too. So bad, but soon, it will get easier. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not getting rid of me.” I can feel the sadness radiating off him, so I add, “You’d do the same for me.”

That gets his attention. “In a fucking heartbeat.”

“Then remember that. When you feel like you’re being a burden, or whatever you think this is, you’d be doing the same for me. That’s what two people in love do.”

He nods and though it feels good to open up with him, something tells me this isn’t the end of our frustration.