“Sit,” she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you’re not hungry. I’ve seen the way you inhale food when you think no one’s watching.”
Grayson hesitated, clearly debating whether to argue, but eventually, he sighed and sat down at the table. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I know,” she said, whisking the eggs with quick, practiced motions. “That’s why I’m doing it. You look like you’re about to keel over.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she moved around the kitchen, the weight of his attention pressing against her back. Normally, she’d find it annoying—or unnerving—but today, it felt…different. Softer, somehow.
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he said after a moment.
“Maybe I want to,” she countered, flipping a slice of bread onto the skillet for toast. “Ever think of that?”
He didn’t respond, but the silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt strangely intimate, like they were sharing something unspoken.
When she finally set a plate in front of him, she gave him a pointed look. “Eat.”
Grayson picked up his fork and took a bite, and Cora smirked when she saw his shoulders relax ever so slightly.
“Good?” she asked, sitting across from him with her own plate.
“Better than what I was going to make,” he admitted.
“That’s not saying much.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t argue. They ate in relative silence for a while, the clink of utensils and the faint sizzle of the stove the only sounds. Cora kept stealing glances at him, watching as the tension in his posture slowly ebbed away.
“Why do you do it?” she asked suddenly, setting her fork down.
Grayson looked up, his brow furrowing. “Do what?”
“Push yourself so hard,” she said, gesturing toward him. “You’re always working, always on edge. You act like the whole world’s going to fall apart if you stop for two seconds.”
“It might,” he said simply.
“That’s not an answer.”
He leaned back in his chair, his expression guarded. “It’s my job.”
“No, it’s more than that,” she pressed. “You don’t just do your job, Grayson. You go above and beyond, to the point where it’s…honestly kind of insane.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Care to share?”
He hesitated, and for a moment, she thought he might actually open up. But then he shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
Grayson sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There are people depending on me. People I’ve let down before. I’m not making that mistake again.”
Cora frowned, tilting her head. “What do you mean, ‘let down?’ You mean Emily?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone final.
“It matters to me,” she said quietly.
His gaze flicked to hers, and something in his expression softened. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he shook his head again and looked away.
“You’re impossible,” she muttered, picking up her fork again.
