Page 73 of Breaking Point (IceHawks #1)

Bella

ONE MONTH LATER

G rayson’s contract was renewed three weeks after my mother’s funeral, along with his captaincy title.

And he still hasn’t left. He has stayed true to his word.

He has loved me on days that I couldn’t get out of bed. He has loved me on the days that I was smiling and laughing, only to fall apart crying. He has loved me through the days I didn’t want to eat. He has loved me through the highest of highs and lowest of lows.

He has still yet to kick me out of his house, in fact the opposite. Every weekend he brings a load from my mom’s house to here, moving my stuff over one box at a time. I have no doubt he’s done it this way to not freak me out and it just makes me fall in love with him more every time.

Because he gets me.

The moment it truly sunk into my mind and heart that Grayson was my person was when he and his teammates came home with bookshelves.

They spent the entire day cleaning out a bedroom and assembling them, only to then bring my mother’s books from her house that she didn’t get around to placing on a shelf and organizing them.

My heart exploded with love when he showed me .

His cheeks were flushed from exhaustion but also that sweet shyness that creeps up on him.

I had never before that moment understood unconditional love, but I felt it in that room, surrounded by the books my mother loved, staring at the man who brought a piece of her to his home to make me feel close to her.

The memory of that day always makes my heart melt.

Layla and I gushed over it on the phone. I had to physically force her to go back to Germany because her not getting the treatment she so desperately needs could not be another source of heavy guilt weighing upon my shoulders.

I refused for my sadness to drag her down, and although sometimes I wake up regretting that decision because I need my best friend, I know I made the right choice.

Especially as the phone calls from her remain positive.

Only ten months and six days until I have my best friend back… not that I’m counting or anything…

Standing in the bedroom I continue to claim I sleep in, despite falling asleep in Grayson’s bed every night, I look out the window and find Grayson gardening with Bambi by his side.

It’s the only time she leaves me. As if she can sense the shift that he needs someone beside him as he gardens.

The hand holding the letter is sweating, because this is the one I’ve been putting off the most.

Besides a few here and there, I’ve left the letters for the occasions my mom intended them to be read for, and it surprisingly brings me joy and excitement to know that one day I’ll read her words when I need them the most.

Like on the days that the number three haunts me.

It’s always haunted me, has been a lucky number cast in shadows of compulsion, but it truly haunts me now when I missed her by three minutes.

I had to start seeing a therapist because my compulsions began to spiral. I was assured that it was normal considering the emotional stress I’ve been under, but there are days that I still want to take out my brain and throw it across the world.

Touch the handle three times .

Brush your hair three times.

The toothbrush was put back oddly. Do it again three times.

You touched Bambi’s left ear once but the right twice. Do both three times.

Get Grayson to kiss your forehead three times.

Three.

Three.

Fucking three.

I pray that the therapy will work and one day the compulsions will settle enough that my chest doesn’t feel like it’s on fire when I try to ignore my thoughts.

But until that day, Grayson is there beside me, forever patient when I take longer to leave the house and forever kind with his words when he can see me struggling.

We’ve scheduled my therapy sessions and his AA meetings to be at the same time. After them, we’re both emotional messes, completely drained, and the only thing that can rejuvenate us is each other.

Grayson has been there to hold me while I cry when the image of my mom, a blanket coming over her at 8:53 a.m, won’t leave my mind. I have also been there for him, holding his head to my chest and pouring out soothing words when the image of Drew and the crash haunts him.

We’re always there for one another. No matter what.

Blowing out a breath, I tear my gaze from my two favorites and look down at the letter with my mom’s handwriting.

When you’re ready to love.