Grey takes a shuddering breath, trying to compose himself enough to speak. “He had… he had a stroke,” he manages to say through his tears. “They… they don’t know…” My heart aches for him as he breaks down again, crying into my shoulder. I holdhim tighter and rub his back, offering what little comfort I can. His body shakes beneath my touch as he chokes out, “I’m so sorry. I know you hate me right now, but I didn’t know where else to go.I need you.” His raw vulnerability catches me off guard, my heart clenching at the sight of this usually stoic man falling apart in my arms.
“I’m here, and I could never hate you,” I assure him, my own anxiety mounting. “I’m here, okay?”
Grey’s composure crumbles entirely. “It was a severe one, and they were only able to save him because he was already at the hospital for the check-up.”
He’s alive.
Thank you, universe.
“Did you go see him?” I manage to croak out.
Grey nods, and guilt pools in my stomach.
He shouldn’t have had to do that alone.
“How is he?” I ask, bracing myself for the answer, my hand instinctively finding Grey’s and squeezing it tightly.
His hand trembles in mine, and I see the struggle in his eyes as he searches for the right words. “He’s somewhat stable now,” Grey finally manages. “But they don’t know the full extent of the damage yet. He’s unconscious, and they’re running tests.”
Please, Mr. Donovan, don’t do this to us.
I pull Grey closer again, wrapping my arms around him once more. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
He buries his face in my shoulder, his body shaking. I’ve never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and broken. It shows how much his grandfather means to him. “Just… can I stay with you, please?” he asks, muffled against my shirt.
“Of course,” I assure him, running my fingers up and down his back. “You can stay as long as you need. And I’ll be by your side no matter what happens next. You’re not alone in this.”
We stand there for a long moment, holding each other in the dim light of my apartment. I feel Grey’s heartbeat gradually slowing, his breathing becoming more even as he calms down. “Do you want to sit?” I ask, pulling back just enough to look at Grey’s face. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, but there’s a flicker of gratitude in them.
He nods, and I take his hand and lead him to the couch. We settle down next to Peanut, and I keep hold of his hand, offering silent support.
Grey takes a shaky breath before speaking again. “I should’ve been there,” he whispers. “I’ve been so caught up in work and…everything else. I haven’t visited him as much as I should have.”
Everything else,also known as me and my problems.
Shit.
If anything, I’m the one to blame.
“Hey, shh. This is not your fault, okay? And Morgan was there. He wasn’t alone,” I reassure him softly. Grey nods, but he looks so defeated, tears still flowing down his cheeks. “Come here,” I say, guiding him down so he lays with his head in my lap. Peanut lays his head on my other side while I start to stroke Grey’s forehead and play with his hair. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply, while he fiddles with his watch, and I ask curiously, “Is that your grandpa’s watch?”
He nods, explaining, “I gave him my smartwatch because it has a fall detector. In return, Grandpa wanted me to wear his. It always feels like a talisman.” I continue to stroke his hair, and gradually, he relaxes until the tears stop making their silent way down his cheeks. “I’m so glad I introduced you to him,” Grey says softly after a long while. “When I was in high school, I once told Grandpa about a girl I liked. He asked me what color her eyes were, and I said I didn’t know. He said if I couldn’t tell him the color of her eyes, he didn’t want to hear about her because my heart wasn’t in the right place.” I smile sadly, thinking aboutMr. Donovan and how he always has the best advice, twirling a strand of Grey’s hair. After another long while, Grey whispers, “I could describe the color of yours for hours with my own closed.”
He opens his eyes then, looking up at me with so much longing it makes my heart ache. “Grey…” I begin, but he reaches up and grasps my hand that was stroking his hair, bringing my palm to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there.
“You know what I thought the first time I saw you?” he asks, and I shake my head. “She looks just like the Sim I created in middle school.”
I huff out a laugh. “Thank you?”
Grey sits up but stays close, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek, so warm on my skin, and I lean into the touch. “You’re my dream girl, Amelia. Brain, soul, looks, sass.All of it.And I can’t seem to stop messing up. You deserve all the good in the world, and it seems like all I do is fuck up.”
“I don’t want somebody who gives me all the good,” I tell him earnestly. “I want something real, something where we both can make mistakes but still know that the other will stay. I’m not perfect either. And I don’t want to be scared of you leaving me because I fuck up a little from time to time.”
Grey’s eyes soften, but there’s still a hint of worry there. “True, but you’re going to walk away if I can’t figure out my problems. I have to figure out how to handle this, handle giving you your space.”
“But I could help you with it,” I offer, for him but for me too. “Let’s share our location, all of us, so we can see where everyone is.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You’d do that?”
