Fletcher
I had no idea what to expect when I knocked on Grace’s door. If I had to bet on a reaction, though, my money would have been on a very well deserved slap in the face. We both knew I more than deserved it and, honestly, I was prepared for it.
However, to my absolute shock and surprise, a second after she opened the door and looked at me, Grace’s arms wrapped around my neck and she whispered, “Are you a dream?”
It was clear to me that Grace was drunk on a lot of cheap wine, the smell emanating from her was more than proof of that fact. Still, the idea that I was her drunken dream made me smile. She was, after all, my drunken dream as well.
From the way her hair smelled to the way her body melted into mine, there wasn’t anything I didn’t miss about Grace. She was like sunshine after a weeklong storm and a fresh breath after being underwater for too long. She was life after two weeks of death.
“I’m not a dream, Gracie.” I folded my arms around her midsession and felt her body relax as I pulled her closer to me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding on to me. With her voice a little louder, her drunken slurring was more pronounced.
I hated that she was so drunk. Aside from the occasional office party, Grace wasn’t the kind of person to overdrink. She was too real and centered for that. The notion that her life was so messed up she was getting drunk alone made me feel incredibly guilty.
Trying to soothe both her and my aching heart at the same time, I ran a hand through her damp hair as I tried to recall the speech I had spent the past two weeks and the last eight hours perfecting, but I drew blank. Having her in my arms once more was just too much.
“I came to apologize and talk to you,” I replied.
Unfortunately, my answer made her release her hold on me and push me away. I released her but kept my gaze fixed on her face. Staggering back, her eyes narrowed and her face turned into an incredulous mask as she looked at me.
“You don’t talk about things, and you don’t apologize. All you do is push me away and break my heart,” she said in an accusing tone.
I nodded and ran a hand through my hair. She was right. I didn’t usually talk about anything, and I had broken her heart countless times, but this time was different. I was different. She had to see that.
“I know. But I’m trying to change that.”
Despite the honesty in my voice, Grace scoffed as she stumbled her way towards her kitchen. With disdain in her voice, she mumbled, “Yeah, right. Liar liar, expensive pants on fire.”
Frustrated, I stood in the doorway and watched as she opened the fridge and retrieved yet another bottle of wine. Although I had promised myself I would wait for an invitation to go inside as to not force my way back into her life, I wasn’t about to stand by and watch her drink more. This wasn’t her and, because I loved her, I had to bring her back to her normal self.
Stepping inside her apartment, I slammed the door shut and stalked towards the kitchen. Moving at an uncharacteristic slow pace, Grace turned her face to look at me and frowned.
“I didn’t invite you inside,” she protested, but I just ignored her and continued to walk until I stood right in front of her. Then, she ordered, “Go away.”
“I’m not going away until you’ve sobered up,” I said with my jaw set and a raised brow as I took the bottle from her hands.
The sweetness that had been on her face when she first saw me, completely disappeared. It morphed into an angry mask that made the slap I had envisioned become a real possibility.
“Give that back. It’s mine!” Grace shrieked as she tried to retrieve the bottle from my hands.
Rolling my eyes, I took advantage of our significant height difference and raised my arm, so the bottle was towering over both our heads and completely out of her reach. Although necessary, that action was ridiculous and made her even angrier.
Like a wild animal, Grace clawed at my arm as she screamed unintelligible things at me and tried to retrieve her wine. Her crazy behavior didn’t scare me, and I didn’t cave. I held the bottle up and her gaze sternly.
“Stop!” I commanded, and by some miracle, she obeyed. After a deep breath, I added, “I understand wanting to drink your problems into oblivion, but we both know this won’t help you. Drinking only makes you nasty and stupid.”
Grace pulled in a long breath through her nose. “Are you seriously trying to give me a lecture on drinking?”
“Yes, I am,” I said, frustrated. “Do you really want to be like me?”
There was a long stretch of silence between us. Then, Grace sighed and looked down; the anger and fire she had in her eyes were replaced by hurt. “Is it that bad for you to imagine me as your equal?”
Although I knew her question had everything to do with my unfortunate—and untrue—comment about Hawthorne being her superior back in my office, and though I wanted to erase the hurt my words had caused her, I couldn’t.
“Yes, Grace,” I said with vigor as I set the wine bottle down on the counter.
Tears sprung to her eyes, and before I could say anything else, she blurted out, “Is that why you came all the way to Boston, Fletcher? To hurt and humiliate me even more?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not what I’m doing at all.” I ran a hand through my hair to calm myself down and tried to impart as much emotion and sincerity into my words as possible. “It is awful for me to even imagine you as my equal because that would make you less than you are.”
As if she couldn’t believe her ears, Grace tilted her head and held my gaze. As our eyes locked, I could see that, for whatever reason, the fog in her mind was lifting. I took advantage of that and said what I needed to say.
“What I said back in my office was bullshit,” I started, commanding her full attention. “People like Hawthorne and I have money, but that’s all we got. We’re rotten inside, Grace. Empty. But you . . . Oh, baby, you’re the real deal. There’s kindness and good and life in you, and that makes you our better in every single way that matters.”
She stood perfectly still, as I took a step in her direction. Her chest moved up and down with her deep breaths as her tearful eyes looked at me in awe. It took every ounce of strength I had not to touch her the way I wanted, but I had more to say before I even tried to be that bold.
“As for what I came here to say, here it goes.” In a steady tone, I started my practiced speech. “I’ve spent my whole life working so hard because I always thought that I was never enough. I thought I had to be more, look like more, act like more so society would accept me, which is why I fought so hard against my feelings and pushed you away.
“However, after I lost you, a good friend pointed out that my work was all I ever needed to fit in and that being miserable just because of what people think is the most stupid thing on Earth. And she was absolutely right.” With a deep breath and a smile, I continued, “I don’t want to fit in a world where you don’t belong. I don’t want to be a part of a society where you’re not welcome, and I don’t want to associate with people who think that having money is more important than having a soul.
“You make me a better man, and thought it’s selfish and unfair, I want you to come home with me and love me and make me the richest man alive.”
Once my speech was over, I stood in front of Grace hoping and praying that she would throw herself into my arms and kiss me, but she didn’t. She only stared at me for what felt like an eternity.
“I have a boyfriend, Fletcher. He’s a good man and he loves me,” she said in a matter of fact tone.
I know, and it’s my fault, I thought as anger filled every cell of my body. I tried to stay calm and think of something to say that didn’t make me sound like an asshole.
“I know, that,” I started with my eyes locked with hers and a hand buried in my hair. “Harrington probably deserves you a lot more than I do—just take a look at all these damn flowers.”
She chuckled a little, and so did I. Then, I straightened my face again and continued in my most honest tone. “If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you love him and that you’re happy with him, I promise I’ll leave you alone, and you won’t ever have to see me again. But if you don’t love him, Grace, if you love me as I love you, then you should choose me and do what’s right for all of us.”
There was fear and hesitation in Grace’s eyes, and it scared the living crap out of me, but I stayed firm. I knew she didn’t love Harrington and would make the right choice.
After yet another lifetime of silent staring, she sighed. “You’ve hurt me so many times, how can I trust you?”
“I don’t really know,” I replied honestly. “I think you just decide to and hope for the best. However, I promise you with all my heart that if you give me one more chance, I’ll do everything I can to assure you’ll never regret your decision.”
Deep in thought, Grace nodded. The tiniest hint of a smile curled up on her lips. “So you love me, hmm?”
“I do,” I admitted as I took one more step closer to her and reached out to hold her hand. “The question is, do you love me?”
With my heart pounding, I watched as Grace inhaled a deep breath. When she exhaled, her lips spread in a reluctant smile and she shrugged. “Call me stupid, but yeah, I do.”
Although I had promised myself to do everything she asked me to do, I didn’t call her stupid. I would never do that or anything demeaning to her ever again. What I did instead, was kiss her with every ounce of love and devotion I held within me.
I knew it was wrong since she hadn’t broken up with Harrington yet, but honestly, I didn’t care. She was mine, and he would know that soon enough. The whole world would, to be honest.