I am frozen, my breaths hollow. I’m afraid to move an inch, because I don’t know what to do. I’m shocked. Beyond shocked, really. Neither of us ever expected to see her, just sitting in the dark, waiting for us to come home. She looks kind of shocked to see me, but that doesn’t falter her ear-grabbing smile. What is it with mothers breaking into his house? This is insane.
“Well, don’t just stand there.” She chuckles and nervously balls her hands to her chest. Her voice is soft, kind of rugged, though. Like she has a cold. I can hear her accent more; it’s thicker and clearer than Grey’s. “Give your mother a hug.” She opens her arms with hope etched into her slightly wrinkled face.
I look to Grey and hold my breath. He hasn’t moved any more than I have. And he still looks pale, like he’s seen a ghost. His hands are balled at his sides, and sweat gleams on his forehead. It looks like he’s burning from the inside out, and he’s going to explode.
“Get out.” His voice is so soft, so frail, that I almost don’t hear him or believe he even spoke at all.
“What?” She looks confused and rubs her elbows.
“I said…to get the fuck out!” He yells at the top of his lungs and huffs out, clutching his hands so hard, blood creases into his fingernails.
The air is still, and I can faintly hear his fuse break. Without saying another word, he storms off and slams a door shut behind him so hard, I think I hear it crack and a splinter shatter to the ground.
I flinch and gulp down a tennis ball-sized lump lodged in my throat. I don’t know if I should go after him or do something about the weeping woman in the living room. Of course I know. I turn to the hallway to run after him, but the woman crying out like a banshee stops me in my tracks for a moment.
“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” she whimpers, wiping at her big, black eyes. She looks at me like I’m supposed to help her somehow. But I don’t know if I can or if I even want to. She hurt Grey. And I don’t care if she’s his mother or not. No one hurts my man then thinks I will be on their side.
I just shake my head, not knowing what to say without blowing up on her. I run after Grey. All that matters right now is him. He must be feeling so overwhelmed. He was like a dormant volcano, much like my erratic mother. Built with so much tension, so many emotions, and he’s going to blow. He’s expected to. I mean, the woman he’s refused to speak to for five consecutive years just suddenly shows up in his apartment. Of course he’s going to be pissed. I would be too.
I find him sitting on the edge of his bed, shaking, head in his lap. His struggle to breathe snatches my breath away. I rush over to him and wrap my arms around his quaking body. His sobs and my soft words in an attempt to coax him fill the air.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here.” I press my lips to his temple and gently weave my fingers and tug at his dampen hair.
“What—is she doing here?” he croaks, hugging me so close to his body, I almost can’t breathe. But I’d give him my every breath if it helps him.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly, not knowing what else to say.
And then he breaks.
A switch is flipped.
He breaks free from my grasp and punches the wall. Over and over, screaming and cracking bones. I cringe and jump into action. I run over and try to pull him away, pleading and tearing up. My vision is blurred, and my heart is in my mouth.
“Stop! Grey, stop! You’re hurting yourself,” I scream, and he whirls around and closes his eyes. I choke on a sob as I watch him shake his fists as he moves his hands to his hair and grabs tightly.
He is completely broken. Her showing up cut open a wound it took five years to somewhat close. But she’s sliced a surgical knife through the barely stitched wound, and blood is pouring out like a volcanic explosion.
“Why the fuck is she here?” he exclaims, then turns and slams his fist into the wall once again.
“I don’t know. But you have to calm down—Grey!”
He pushes past me and throws the dresser to the ground. The floor shakes, and I scream in shock. Drawers and splinters and clothes scatter across the floor. As if this didn’t satisfy his burning rage, he grabs a lamp in the corner and smashes it to the ground. The bulb crashing to the floor makes a small explosion of light and makes me cover my ears. I jump back and stare at Grey. He’s completely lost his mind.
“What is she doing here?” he screams as he picks up the alarm off the wall and flings it across the room. The glass shatters, and I cry a tsunami.
“Please, calm down, Grey!” I plead, and he snaps his head to me, and I feel my blood run cold. Blood drips freely from his hands, and his hair and clothes are a complete mess. It looks like he just got in a fight with a tornado that brought knives. “I understand that you’re angry—”
“Angry?” He laughs a cold, bitter laugh and sneers at me, “Try fucking furious! Outraged! I want to tear her fucking head off!”
“Stop it! She’s still your mother!” I don’t like that. I do understand that what she did was cruel and unforgivable, but she is still his mother, and he can’t say that.
“Some fucking mother!” he shouts. “Just because you have a lovely mother who loves you so dearly that she would drag you back to your pretty little mansion to protect you doesn’t mean you can, for a fraction, understand what I am going through!” He snaps, and I freeze. He’s directing his anger toward me.
“I’m on your side, Grey. But we have to think this through,” I say calmly.
“What is there to think about?” He raises his arms, blood splattering across the floor. “I want her the fuck out of my apartment. She has no fucking right being here after what she did!” He takes long strides over the glass, toward the door. But I jump in front of him and splay my hands across his firm chest.
“You’re not in your right mind.” I’m afraid he’ll hurt her. I am praying there is a side, even the tiniest, that will be rational enough to comprehend that he cannot physically harm his mother, no matter how toxic she is.
“Get out of my way, Liv,” he says, his voice splintering like the door he nearly broke off the hinges.
“Not until you calm down,” I say firmly, and he rolls his eyes, shoving me to the side. My heart leaps into my throat as the door swings open, nearly hitting me. Now I definitely know he’s gone off his hinges. “Grey!” I round the door and run after him.
“I want you out! I don’t give a fuck how your crazy-ass came back or why. I just want you gone. Now!” he barks, clutching his bleeding hands. I slow down, actually terrified as he takes deep breaths, glaring at his mother like she clutched his father’s heart herself.
“I just missed you, baby. Can’t we talk?” She smiles, but it quivers as she walks—almost cautiously—around the coffee table. She laughs and shakes her head, eyes gleaming. “You’ve grown so much. You look just like your father.”
“Are you deaf? I said to get the fuck out!” He grabs a nearby standing lamp and throws it at her feet. She shrieks the same time I do and jumps back, almost falling back into the couch.
“Grey,” she speaks softly. “Baby—”
“Don’t call me that!” His voice bounces off the windows; I swear they shake.
“How did you even get in here?” I ask the woman, trying to change the subject, holding him back from doing something he’ll no doubt regret in the future.
“I told the landlord I was your mother, and he let me up.” She shrugs, her voice rising.
Someone really needs to fire that man.
“How do you even know where I live?” he sneers and takes another step.
She opens her mouth but says nothing.
“Answer him,” I snap and tilt his head down, forcing him to stare into my eyes. From them, I plead and beg that he take deep breaths. Reading them, he takes rough breaths, and I smile softly.
There we go, big guy…
“I was checking up on you online, and when I found she was a friend of yours, I checked her out, just to make sure she was okay.” She laughs airily, and I raise my eyebrows. Excuse me? “Anyway, I saw that she went to your school and dug around a little. You forget your father was a private investigator. I learned some tips from him.”
She shouldn’t have said that.
At the mention of his father, he pushes past my weak arms, and I widen my eyes to try to hold him back.
“Don’t—” I step toward him, and he glares down at me like I’m the enemy. “You need to calm down. Maybe she just wants to talk, then she’ll leave.”
“Stop taking her side! I thought you loved me.” His voice creaks.
I frown and grab his face, nodding frantically.
“I do love you, I do! You know that. But just—just maybe hear her out?”
I want to shove the words back down my throat, because pain flashes across his eyes as he pushes me away. His eyes grow dark, and his breaths become shallow.
“I don’t—I can’t…” He shakes his head, tears brimming his eyes. “I can’t be here.” He turns and runs to the elevator. I’m frozen as I catch his gaze before the door closes. The look he gives me stops the world, mine at least. He looks at me as if I’m a stranger that single-handedly tore his soul in half.
My heart plummets into my stomach.
The woman cries like she’s just lost her child. But she lost him five years ago.
“Please, I—I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Her words sting more than I ever thought they would. Because her son, her very, very broken son, said the exact thing to me.
“Yet you did anyway.” I tell her the same thing I told him. The only difference is…I run after him.
I rush to the elevator and down the street. I couldn’t give less of a shit about the woman I’m leaving behind. Because the only thing I could ever care about is the man I am running to. I once told him I would never run away from him but toward him. That was a promise, whether he believes it or not. And I am keeping that promise close to heart and chasing after that man I love. I think, the only man I’ll ever love…
I wordlessly slide into the passenger seat of his car. When he doesn’t drive off immediately, I turn my head. He’s staring at me, confused and face completely flushed. Eyes wild, red, and tears dry on his cheeks. I want nothing more than to kick that woman out and clean him up and hold him until he falls asleep in my arms, safe and sound from any harm, but all I can do right now is be by his side.
The only sound is the engine purring and the radio volume on low.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice hoarse.
“I’m going wherever you are.” He furrows his brows, and I reach over and take his hand. “I love you, Grey. And you obviously need support. And I’ll gladly be that person for you.”
“I’m going out to drink. I can’t comprehend this right now,” he admits.
“Then drink. I’ll be there right by your side, getting plastered. I don’t care—I just need to be there for you.”
A smile slowly breaks out on his face, and he brings my hand up and gently kisses my knuckles, eyes closed. “Have I told you how much I love you lately?”
I chuckle and shrug. “Maybe once or twice.”
He smiles and stares at me for two more beats before nodding and peeling out onto the road.