Page 97 of Gravity

“You don’t mean that,” I whisper, nausea now gripping my stomach.

She can’t mean that. She doesn’t mean that.

“Nora, please.”

But she doesn’t say anything. She can’t because the look on her face tells me that she herself can’t believe the words that have just left her. I can see it in her eyes. I can feel remorse rolling off her from across the room as her tiny frame falls to pieces and crumbles right in front of me.

I waste no time in pushing my wounds aside and going to her, catching her as she falls to the floor and curling my body around hers while she breaks. I’d give anything to take her anguish and sorrow, regardless of my own.

“Gray…” she sobs, holding on to me tight. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”

“Shh. It’s okay.”

“It hurts so bad. I don’t want to feel this agony anymore.”

“I’ve got you, Nora. I promise.”

As I hold her close, I don’t fight my emotions—I can’t, even if I try, because with the relief of finally speaking out and the void Pete’s death has left us both with, I can’t be strong right now.

I’ve tried.

But I can’t anymore.

So I let myself fall right along with her as we hold each other like our lives depend on it. Our hands grip onto one another, our hearts race alongside each other’s, and as our tears cascade, I bury my face in her hair and whisper my apologies to her over and over.

* * *

I don’t know how long I hold her, but it’s long enough for her breathing to calm and the aftershocks of emotion to leave her body in scattered breaths.

It’s dusk outside, the light in the tree house a low glow, but I just sit, my eyes drifting close as I hold Nora while she plays with the thin threads that are coming out of Scuttles leg.

“Grayson,” she whispers, causing my eyes to open.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think it would have made it easier if you’d told me?"

It’s a fair question, but I’ve always believed it would have made things worse, so I’m honest with her. "No. Because knowing Asher had left would have been on your mind when it came to your dad. It would have taken away everything you wanted to do with him. It would have put a cloud of uncertainty over the pair of you, and those smiles I saw from you both wouldn't have been real. They'd have been ones of pain and grief, especially yours. I couldn't do that to you, Nora. I know this has hurt you—I know I have hurt you—but knowing the truth would never have made it easier. You made his last days happy ones, and for that, I don't regret it."

She looks up at me, a fresh tear now delicately slipping down her cheek. “I loved hearing him laugh.”

“And I love to hear you laugh, too. I couldn’t take that away, Shortcake. No matter how much I wanted to tell you and loathed myself for not, I couldn’t do that. You have to understand that.”

“I do. I’m sorry I said what I did. I never meant any of it. I don’t blame you.”

“I know.” I kiss her on the forehead. “You know your dad wouldn’t have wanted any of this. He hated seeing you upset.”

“I know. I just can’t stand all this emptiness. I can’t breathe.”

Needing to give her solace, I think back to the conversation I’d had with Pete, not wanting to have any secrets between us now. “You know, your dad didn’t just tell you not to give up on me. He told me the same thing when it came to you.”

Her eyes find mine, a little crease between her brows. “He did?”

“Yeah. He asked me to take care of you and make you happy. I could tell there was meaning behind it, but at the time, I wasn’t sure what. Then that day at the beach, everything made sense after we’d talked some more.”

“How do you mean?”

“He knew about us, Nora. He knew that we are together. He saw it.”