“What? When?”
I explain the whole order of events to Avery, filling her in on the FEMA offer and his conversation with me in his hospital room. She nods, her face solemn and compassionate.
“He told me he loves me. And Mia.”
“That’s huge, Hallie.”
“Yeah. It is. The first time he said it, he was definitely under the influence of pain meds. It was adorable. But later, when the meds wore off a little and he was cogent, he said he meant it.”
“And you love him?”
“I love him so much. If I knew this kind of love were possible, I never would have married Danny. I would have held out for Greyson—like he held out for me.”
“Wait. Hold the horses. Stop. Shut the front door. He held out for you?”
“For nine years.”
“Girl.” She shakes her head, smiling big.
“I know.” I close my eyes, picturing his face in the hospital. “But something’s off. I can tell.”
“Give it time,” Avery says.
“I have been—and I will,” I say that to her, but in my heart I wonder if time will help anything.
I thought it would. All along, I believed waiting for Mia to come around was the key to us being together.As soon as she was ready—that’s what I told myself. But now? I don’t know. Greyson feels miles away. And I think he might be burning down the access bridges as we speak.
I finish my cup of broth and toast. Avery sits with me. We don’t say anything else. I rinse my cup and plate and then I head to bed.
It takes a while for sleep to overtake me. I close my eyes, practicing breathing techniques I learned at the academy to chase away the anxiety bubbling up in me.
Eventually I drift off …
I’m running through a forest, calling his name. “Greyson! Greyson! Where are you?”
And then I see him—only half of him, grasping at tree roots at the edge of a cliff. His torso’s flat on the solid ground, but his legs are dangling down over the edge.
I run to him, panting, jumping logs, ricocheting parkour-style off tree trunks. I have to get to him.
I reach him and the ground starts to erode from under me—from under his torso.
I can’t get a foothold. I’m sliding and unstable.
Greyson slips a few more inches, debris around him dropping off toward the cavernous emptiness beneath him. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.
I grasp his arm, holding on as tightly as I can. “I’ve got you,” I tell him. “I love you. I’ll never let go.”
He doesn’t answer me. His face contorts—brow pinched, eyes locked on mine but unfocused.
I cling to his forearm with a death grip, but gravity tugs him away from me.
Bits of shale break off from the cliff’s edge, scattering and falling.
Greyson’s expression is etched with regret.
“I’m sorry, Hallie,” he says as he releases his hold on me and disappears from sight.
“Greeeysoooon!” I shout after him.
