“You don’t deserve it either,” he says in agreement.
I move closer, wanting to console him, but also needing him just the same. This has grown so much messier than either one of us could’ve imagined, and I fear it’s slowly chipping away at what we managed to build. We were already brittle to begin with, forged off a secret that turned into something we never expected. And now, after seeing how quickly it could all be undone, I worry we may have bitten off more than we can chew.
“So…”
“So?”
I choose my words carefully, not wanting to add salt to his wound. “Your job…”
“HR called me into their office. They mentioned something about an investigation,” he explains. “And since I hit him first, they’ve suspended me. Indefinitely.”
“Andrew,” I croak. I start to wrap my arms around him, but he winces, pulling away. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he answers, his voice strained. “My side is just…” He lifts his arm, and I look, uncovering his side to find a red bruise that’s sure to turn purple by tomorrow.
“Andrew, what the hell. He did this?”
“I’m fine.”
“We need to get you to the hospital. What if he broke something?”
“I’m sure it’s just a really bad bruise.”
“No, we?—”
“Can we just go to bed?” he requests. “We don’t have to go to sleep.” His fingers wrap around my wrist, a soft plea to let him forget today by leaving it behind him while we slip under a layer of covers.
“Can I at least give you something? Maybe an Advil. For the pain?”
“Sure,” he agrees. “And then bed?”
“Yeah, of course.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Andrew
It’s almostfive a.m. when I wake from my sleep. I have another hour or so before Grace’s alarm is going to go off, but something woke me. Not a loud noise or a jolting movement, but something that combed through my dreams, reminding me what happened in the last twenty-four hours.
I most likely don’t have a job anymore. The one I’ve clung onto for the past five years has been basically stripped from me the second my boss decided to cross a line. A very deeply fixed line that anyone could’ve seen even from outer space. But he doesn’t care. Of course he doesn’t care. In fact, he did it with clear intention. Whether it was to anger me as his ex-wife’s new boyfriend or to remind me that he will always have a leg up, at work or in my relationship with Grace, he seems to always be in a position where he holds something over me.
Grace stays asleep next to me. It’s not quite light out though I can see the blunted silhouette of high rises surrounding us. Buster whines from his spot at the foot of the bed when I stir. When I sit up, he licks my shin where it’s poking out from the covers.
“Hey buddy.” His thick tail thumps loudly, and Grace turns over in her sleep. “Shh,” I tell him, but that only excites himmore. Not wanting to wake Grace, I slowly climb out of bed, and Buster hops off and follows me out of the room. It’s a little early for Buster’s morning walk, but when he stands by the door with a perfected set of puppy-dog eyes, I give in.
By the time I get downstairs, I can see bright streaming lights peek through the skyline like the sun is hiding behind a stencil. This isn’t how I expected my week to play out. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Probably fine-tune my résumé and do some online job searches. Just in case. My job never really left any room for savings or emergency funds, so hopefully I can find something sooner rather than later.
I know I should be furious with everything going on, Grace’s ex-husband throwing low blow after low blow in my direction, even all the shit he said about her in every derogatory way possible. But I’m not that upset. I mean, sure, my hatred for Mr. Sheridan isn’t going anywhere, but knowing the reasons behind it, I don’t regret it. He’ll probably throw some assault charges in my direction, making the chances of me finding a new job that much harder by adding a possible misdemeanor to my record. But knowing it was all for Grace makes a thrill of excitement ripple through me. I love her, and the act of punching the daylights out her asshole ex-husband seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.
I’m in love with someone. With Grace. To the point that I’m willing to risk my job and my career for her. And all it does is make me wonder what lengths I would go to for her. It doesn’t scare me. I’ve become this vulnerable man, oozing with all the things most would consider weak, but I feel the strongest I’ve ever felt.
I want to tell her I love her, even tell people about us. Do things couples do out in public without worrying about the wrong person finding out about us. Grace said she might be ready soon to tell Teeny about us. Maybe that can be now.
By the time Buster urges me to go back inside, the round border of the sun can be seen over the pearl of clouds hidden behind unlevel tops of buildings. And I’m ready to go back to Grace too.
When I get back into Grace’s condo, I notice she’s not in bed. The outline of her is there through the rumpled bed sheets and indented pillow. Her bathroom door opens, and she saunters back into the room just as I turn to pick her up in my arms. I kiss her, tasting the dewy traces of water mixed with her freshly brushed teeth.
“Whoa, you’re in a good mood this morning.”
