"That was so fucking scary, Molly. I've been afraid before, but not like that. Never like that."
The quiet fear in his voice shocks me, hurts me, gives me hope.
"When I pulled up and saw the tree and I thought…" He shakes his head gently. "I don't know what I would have done if you…if you were…"
"I'm okay," I say softly, not wanting to move, afraid I'll spook him and he'll disappear again.
"I've been…" He swallows hard, shakes his head again, muttering, "Why is this so fucking hard?" Another pause. He still hasn't met my eyes. "I've been sick without you. And when I thought something happened to you…"
"But you didn't even text me, wouldn't talk to me, ignored me last night at practice until you couldn't avoid me anymore, and. And then you sent me away. I wondered if you even missed me."
He laughs, but the sound is humorless. "It'sallI've done. I haven't eaten. I haven't slept. Been too busy missing you."
"Why did you disappear if you didn't want to? Why did you push me away if you missed me?"
"Because I--" His voice breaks. "I thought that if I was gone, you wouldn't get hurt. If I put you back where I found you, they'd leave you alone. If I made myself scarce, I couldn't disappoint you. That you'd be better off without me."
I take my hand back so I can hold his jaw, forcing him to look at me. And gently, I say, "You don't get to decide what's good for me, Grey."
He closes his eyes, softly clasps my wrists, turns one of my palms to press a kiss into it, then gets back to his task. "I know. But I'm supposed to take care of you. I'm supposed to know better, Molly. I hurt you and I could have stopped it, but insteadI was only thinking about myself. I let myself want you. You came to me with an ask I should have said no to, because I knew--I fuckingknewI couldn't stop myself. Lessons. Casual." The shake of his head, a sardonic sound in the back of his throat. "I should have been honest with myself. Because it was never casual for me. I tried to tell myself it was, but it wasn't."
"Me neither, but it was the only way to get you to agree to do it."
A smile flickers on his lips, but it fades as soon as it rises. "When you care about somebody, you take care of them. You help them. But I wasn't taking care of you--I was thinking about myself. It was selfish and unfair to you. And now your reputation is ruined because of me. And I was so ashamed, I doubled down, hurt you worse by pushing you away."
"Greyson," I start firmly. "You can't be serious…" I wait until he blinks at me to say, "All you have done since we met is take care of me. Why on earth would you think you were being selfish? You're the most selfless man I have ever met. Whoever told you that you were selfish?"
For a moment, he doesn't answer. I'm about to ask again when he finally speaks.
"I was on my own a lot as a kid. Most of the time my parents were too high to take care of me. Every day when I woke up, I didn't know what version of them I'd find. Would they be high? Would I have to check and see if they were breathing? Were they dead? Or would they be sober and mad about the fact? I knew how to check a pulse, wash my own clothes, and make myself something to eat by the time I was five."
My horror is sharp, shocking. He's still watching his hands as he smooths a Band-Aid. It's easier for him this way, I'm sure, something to do while he bares his pain to me.
"There was one safe person for me in the world--my grandma. We lived out of town a ways, and I was supposed to ride the bus home from school, but I wouldn't. Grandma told me I could always come here, so every day after school, this is where you'd find me. She'd be waiting on the porch with a snack and project around the house for us to work on. When things got real bad at home, I'd ride my bike over, even though they told me not to. It was too far. Dangerous. As if home was somehow better. But it didn't matter what time of day or what happened or how I got there--she'd make up a bed for me and feed me a hot meal and hug me. She'd tell me it was gonna be all right. And when she said it, I believed it.
"She showed me what it meant to love somebody. I learned from her what it meant to be selfless. The only thing my parents taught me how it feels when the people you love most take without giving. I know they were sick. I know they did their best.But I was nine when my parents finally gave me over to her. For nine years, I lived with them, bouncing to Grandma, then back again. I don't know why they didn't just give me up. And Grandma couldn't just keep me—all it would take was my mom showing up to court looking put together, and they'd give me right back to her. And so, my only good times were here." He pauses, looks at the room. "This is the only stable home I've ever known. And Grandma was the only stable person in my life. She saved me. She was the only one who could." A lock of his hair hangs forward, dark and wet. "Do you want to know my biggest fear?"
His eyes meet mine, the pain behind them vivid. I nod, unable to breathe.
"What if I'm like them?"
My heart shatters, protest flaring in me. But I listen, breaking over and again.
"My parents destroyed themselves taking what they wanted, and if it wasn't for my grandma, they would have taken me with them. The truth, Molly? I'm afraid everyone's right about us, about everything. I'm too old. I'm taking advantage of you. I'm being selfish, I'll ruin you. Because being with you makes mewant. It makes me want to take and take and ignore the ways that I could hurt you. Not how it could hurt me--I don't care about that. But the thought of taking fromyouwas more than I could bear. What if I take too much? What if I break you? Hurt you? Ruin you like they almost ruined me? And I know…I know it's not the same. I know it's not. But itfeelsthe same. Does that make any sense?"
I nod, fighting the urge to climb into his lap and hold him. "You're not like them, Grey. You're the perfect opposite--if given the chance, you'd give until you have nothing left. You deserve to want and to take. You deserve to be happy and to feel loved."
He looks away, his eyes shining. But he doesn't speak.
"Pushing me away hasn't protected either of us--all it's done is hurt us both."
"I know. Every night, I go to sleep praying maybe tomorrow it'll get easier. Maybe I'll wake up and it'll hurt a little less. Every morning I'm wrong," he says softly. "I thought I was just punishing myself. That I deserved it. But then tonight, when you didn't answer the phone, when I got to the house and…" He shakes his head, his brow furrowed and throat working. "I should have been there. I have been through some scary shit in my life, but never scared like I was tonight, Molly. The second I saw you, the second I knew you were safe, my fears washed away. When I found you, there was no question. Nothing else mattered. The one thing, theonlything I knew is what I want.You."
I feel the words radiate from my heart with every beat.
"I know I don't deserve you--"
"Stop it," I whisper.
