The Friend Zone
Page 93
“I didn’t know how bad they’d gotten,” he says finally, quietly. “I was just trying to do right by you. Make you tough.”
“Well, brilliant. Only don’t expect me to care.” I lean my head against the window. Will this ride ever end? My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. I refuse to think about Ivy right now. Not in this car.
Again, my dad speaks. “I shouldn’t have left you to deal with Liv.”
Grinding my teeth to keep from shouting, I force a calm tone. “I didn’t ‘deal’ with Mom. I was there for her. I wanted to be. I just didn’t want to be the only one to do it.” Something sticks in my throat, and I struggle to clear it. “I needed help. She needed her whole family, Dad.”
He nods, concentrating on the road. “I know. I was wrong.” His knuckles turn white. “I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough. But you were. You’re the best of us, Gray.”
His words sit like a stone on my chest. I say nothing.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
“Because I win games.” It’s not even a question.
“No. I’m proud of my son. Of the man you’ve become.” He turns a corner and we’re pulling into the hotel’s drive. Dad eased the car into a spot before looking at me. “And I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”
My throat convulses, and I can barely nod. Ivy is in a room upstairs. Likely devastated. I am too, yet my legs are like lead. I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.
“Gray,” Dad says as I move to get out. His blue eyes, the exact color of mine, are rimmed in red. “I’ll try to do better.”
I don’t really know what to say. That he cares ought to make me feel better. But I’m numb now. So I answer the only way I can. “Okay. Bye.”
And then my thoughts turn to the person I love more than anything on earth.
* * *
My fingers are ice as I let myself into Ivy’s room. I just want to get to her, but I’m a wreck, shaking and nauseous. My heart is thumping so hard, my breath so short, I’m afraid I might topple.
As soon as I enter, Mackenzie and Dr. Rakin stand and face me.
“Where is she?” I get out.
“Resting in the bedroom,” Dr. Rakin says in a low voice. “I gave her some acetaminophen for the pain.”
“How is she?” God, just let her be okay.
“As well as can be expected, Grayson,” Dr. Rakin says. “Sporadic miscarriages during early pregnancy are not uncommon, and Ivy is young and healthy.” Words I want to hear, but I know there’s a huge difference between physically fine and mentally.
“Shouldn’t she be in the hospital?” I press.
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “There really isn’t anything they can do for her.”
It’s a punch to my heart to hear that. But I nod.
“Just keep a look out for a fever or undue bleeding. I’ve said this to Miss Mackenzie, as well.”
“Right.” Stuffing my shaking hands as hard down into my jeans pockets as they’ll go, I make myself ask the question I fear most. “Is it… Was it because—?” My throat closes in on me as my vision blurs. I blink rapidly. “We had sex. Today. And—” Shit. I’m going to lose it. Ivy’s dad is right here. He must fucking hate me. I hate me.
But Rakin shakes his head, his expression almost pitying. “No, son. Put that out of your mind. When a pregnancy aborts like this it’s usually due to a chromosomal abnormality in the fetus.”
Logically I know this. But I can’t stop myself from thinking of how I slammed into Ivy. Taking her hard and fast, like a rutting bastard. My eye burn hot, prickling. I draw in a shaking breath. “Okay. Right.” I don’t know where to look. “Thanks. For being there for her.”
“Not a problem,” Dr. Rakin answers. “I heard about the win. Excellent job, Gray.”
I could give a shit about the win right now. Ivy is in the other room. Waiting. I’m fucking weak-kneed and ready to bawl. The sense of loss guts me. I don’t know what to do with that emotion now, or how to even handle it. Rakin is saying something about Ivy seeing her OB when she gets home. I nod, but my gaze turns to Mackenzie. He’s been silent this whole time.
He’s looking at me now, those thick black brows of his slanting over his eyes. I want to apologize to him. But he speaks first. “I’m sorry, son.” He comes closer to me, and I suck in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His big hand lands on my shoulder. “I really am.”
“Yeah,” I croak. “Me too.”
I turn my attention to the closed bedroom door, and move toward it but stop and look at Mackenzie. “I know you’re Ivy’s father, but don’t ever keep something like this from me again.”
He knows I mean it. I let him see the rage and fear I felt when I’d learned Ivy was hurting and I wasn’t there for her.
Mackenzie gives me a tight nod. “Never again.”
Thirty-Five
Gray
Opening the door is hard. I don’t want her to see me cry. I need to be strong for her. Yet my throat is working like a bellows, opening and closing. I take another breath and go inside.
She’s in the center of the bed, curled up against the pillows, and wearing one of my team shirts. She looks fragile, defeated, her brown eyes huge in the oval of her pale face. My heart bleeds for her, a physical ache that has me leaning against the doorframe.
“Well, brilliant. Only don’t expect me to care.” I lean my head against the window. Will this ride ever end? My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe. I refuse to think about Ivy right now. Not in this car.
Again, my dad speaks. “I shouldn’t have left you to deal with Liv.”
Grinding my teeth to keep from shouting, I force a calm tone. “I didn’t ‘deal’ with Mom. I was there for her. I wanted to be. I just didn’t want to be the only one to do it.” Something sticks in my throat, and I struggle to clear it. “I needed help. She needed her whole family, Dad.”
He nods, concentrating on the road. “I know. I was wrong.” His knuckles turn white. “I couldn’t… I wasn’t strong enough. But you were. You’re the best of us, Gray.”
His words sit like a stone on my chest. I say nothing.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
“Because I win games.” It’s not even a question.
“No. I’m proud of my son. Of the man you’ve become.” He turns a corner and we’re pulling into the hotel’s drive. Dad eased the car into a spot before looking at me. “And I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”
My throat convulses, and I can barely nod. Ivy is in a room upstairs. Likely devastated. I am too, yet my legs are like lead. I take a deep breath and reach for the door handle.
“Gray,” Dad says as I move to get out. His blue eyes, the exact color of mine, are rimmed in red. “I’ll try to do better.”
I don’t really know what to say. That he cares ought to make me feel better. But I’m numb now. So I answer the only way I can. “Okay. Bye.”
And then my thoughts turn to the person I love more than anything on earth.
* * *
My fingers are ice as I let myself into Ivy’s room. I just want to get to her, but I’m a wreck, shaking and nauseous. My heart is thumping so hard, my breath so short, I’m afraid I might topple.
As soon as I enter, Mackenzie and Dr. Rakin stand and face me.
“Where is she?” I get out.
“Resting in the bedroom,” Dr. Rakin says in a low voice. “I gave her some acetaminophen for the pain.”
“How is she?” God, just let her be okay.
“As well as can be expected, Grayson,” Dr. Rakin says. “Sporadic miscarriages during early pregnancy are not uncommon, and Ivy is young and healthy.” Words I want to hear, but I know there’s a huge difference between physically fine and mentally.
“Shouldn’t she be in the hospital?” I press.
He doesn’t meet my eyes. “There really isn’t anything they can do for her.”
It’s a punch to my heart to hear that. But I nod.
“Just keep a look out for a fever or undue bleeding. I’ve said this to Miss Mackenzie, as well.”
“Right.” Stuffing my shaking hands as hard down into my jeans pockets as they’ll go, I make myself ask the question I fear most. “Is it… Was it because—?” My throat closes in on me as my vision blurs. I blink rapidly. “We had sex. Today. And—” Shit. I’m going to lose it. Ivy’s dad is right here. He must fucking hate me. I hate me.
But Rakin shakes his head, his expression almost pitying. “No, son. Put that out of your mind. When a pregnancy aborts like this it’s usually due to a chromosomal abnormality in the fetus.”
Logically I know this. But I can’t stop myself from thinking of how I slammed into Ivy. Taking her hard and fast, like a rutting bastard. My eye burn hot, prickling. I draw in a shaking breath. “Okay. Right.” I don’t know where to look. “Thanks. For being there for her.”
“Not a problem,” Dr. Rakin answers. “I heard about the win. Excellent job, Gray.”
I could give a shit about the win right now. Ivy is in the other room. Waiting. I’m fucking weak-kneed and ready to bawl. The sense of loss guts me. I don’t know what to do with that emotion now, or how to even handle it. Rakin is saying something about Ivy seeing her OB when she gets home. I nod, but my gaze turns to Mackenzie. He’s been silent this whole time.
He’s looking at me now, those thick black brows of his slanting over his eyes. I want to apologize to him. But he speaks first. “I’m sorry, son.” He comes closer to me, and I suck in a sharp breath through my nostrils. His big hand lands on my shoulder. “I really am.”
“Yeah,” I croak. “Me too.”
I turn my attention to the closed bedroom door, and move toward it but stop and look at Mackenzie. “I know you’re Ivy’s father, but don’t ever keep something like this from me again.”
He knows I mean it. I let him see the rage and fear I felt when I’d learned Ivy was hurting and I wasn’t there for her.
Mackenzie gives me a tight nod. “Never again.”
Thirty-Five
Gray
Opening the door is hard. I don’t want her to see me cry. I need to be strong for her. Yet my throat is working like a bellows, opening and closing. I take another breath and go inside.
She’s in the center of the bed, curled up against the pillows, and wearing one of my team shirts. She looks fragile, defeated, her brown eyes huge in the oval of her pale face. My heart bleeds for her, a physical ache that has me leaning against the doorframe.
