He sounds so dejected. So lost. I’d almost rather him yell and scream than see this empty look in his eyes.
“I let them down.”
“No, you didn’t. This is my fault. I never should’ve asked you to come with me.”
“I could’ve told you no, but I was so wrapped up in all of the feelings I have for you that I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
His words churn like acid in my stomach.
I’ve never hated myself like I do now. I did this. Grayson and his kids were doing just fine until I came along, until I pushed my way into their lives. This is my fault, and I have to find a way to make it right.
“I’m sorry, Grayson.” I pull a shirt over my head, shove my legs into a pair of capris, and sit beside him on the bed. I loop my arm through his, wanting nothing more than to touch him and comfort him and take away this pain I’ve inadvertently caused.
When I go to rest my head on his shoulder, Grayson eases me off of him and stands up.
“Will you call Marnie and find out when we can leave?”
“Yes. Of course.”
31
Grayson
How did everything go so wrong in such a short amount of time? One minute we were making love, falling asleep in each other’s arms, and now we’re on our way home.
I’m sitting at the back of the plane by myself, staring out the window while Nora paces up and down the aisle. She’s been on her phone almost constantly since Bo picked us up to drive us to the airport.
We’re not laughing and talking the way we did on the flight to LA. Instead, I’m wondering why I thought it was a good idea to leave the kids and go to a movie premiere.
Me at a movie premiere. It even sounds ridiculous. That might be Nora’s life, but it sure as hell isn’t mine.
I was so anxious to get some alone time with Nora, and some time to myself, away from the kids, and now all I want to do is be with them. I barely even thought about them over the last thirty-six hours. What does that say about me as a father?
And poor Jack. He’s worked so hard to overcome what happened. I can only pray that he hasn’t seen or heard what’s being said on TV, because if he does, I’m afraid it’ll set him back.
“Yes, that’s right.” Nora listens to the person on the other end of the line. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
I listen to her end the call, and there’s complete silence. Nothing but the sound of the plane engine. I don’t have to look up to know she’s watching me. I can feel the weight of her eyes.
When the seat beside me dips, I take a breath and remind myself this isn’t her fault. As much as I want someone to blame, Nora isn’t that person. The only problem; my brain can’t seem to separate her from this mess, no matter how hard I try.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey.” I look at her—really look at her—for the first time since my mother called almost three hours ago. Her clothes are rumpled, hair a mess from running her fingers through it, and dark circles mar her tired eyes. She looks about as bad as I feel.
“I talked to the reporter who broke the story about who you are.”
My heart speeds up. “And?”
Nora looks at her hands, studies them for a few seconds, and then looks back up. “It was Lorelei.”
“Lorelei?”
“She sold the story, as well as those photos, to a reporter.”
“Wh—how?” I shake my head trying to wrap my brain around it. “How did she even know we were together?” I think about it for a second and then curse. “Lacey.”
Nora shakes her head. “I don’t think so. According to the reporter, Lorelei saw pictures of us online and reached out to him. At first he didn’t believe her, said she sounded drunk or high, but then she produced some photos. He compared those photos to pictures of you he had taken at the premiere and knew she was telling the truth.”