Page 69 of Her Pretty Words

I hug them goodbye and a sense of peace washes over me. For once in my life, I feel truly seen by my parents. Everything is falling into place like the world is wholly on my side. Tears that resemble something akin to joy sting my eyes as I drive home.Home. That’s what Sanibel has always been to me. But now, I don’t just think about palm trees and salty waves curling over my toes. I picturehimwaiting for me.

I’ve spent nearly every moment away from the island wishing I was there. I refuse to spend my life dreaming that I live a different one.

I’m not engaged anymore. I don’t have a job in Idaho. My true friends are here, but most importantly, so is Grayson. I’m free to do whatever makes me happy. It’s as if the clouds have dissipated to reveal a serene sky.

As I pull into Grayson’s driveway, there’s a smile stretched across my face.I’m going to move to Sanibel.

I rush to his house and swing open the door, grateful to find it’s unlocked, so I wouldn’t have to wait for him to let me in. I can’t imagine sitting still right now. I have thousands of words on the tip of my tongue, begging to be let out. He’s not in the living room, and as I search his house for him, my heart speeds as if I’m running, and when I find his bedroom empty, I conclude he’s not home. But I am so pent up, I can’t just sit and wait for him, so I make myself busy and tidy up his room.

After I make his bed, I find the pack of condoms from last night sitting on his bedside table and blush. I pull out the drawer to put them back, finding a sand dollar and a picture frame face down. I shouldn’t rummage through his things, but what would it hurt to look at a photo? I pick it up and turn it around with anticipation.

I smile when I see it’s the childish picture frame he bought when we went home décor shopping together. My eyes fall to the picture. Something booms loudly in my ears, and I realize it’s my heart, like the beating thing in my chest recognizes him before I do. Everything seems to fall away, as if a vacuum has sucked the air from the room.

In the picture, Daniel, the boy who once lived in Grayson’s house, grins widely in his mom’s lap, who sits on a beach chair. His dad stands behind them, a little girl on his shoulders.

Arms twist around my waist and I yelp, dropping the photo onto the bed. Grayson’s body tenses against mine, and he whispers in a terrified voice, “What are you doing?”

My heart was beating so loud that I was unaware he came back. He turns me to face him, his eyes wide and alert as he takes in my expression. I exhale a steady breath. “You scared me,” I whisper, then wrap my arms around him and tuck my face against his chest.Home.

He’s slow to hug me back. His heart beneath my ear beats as quickly as mine did a moment ago.

I pull away to pick the photo back up and trace my index finger over the boy I once swore I loved. “Where did you get this?” I ask, still staring at the familiar face in the picture.

I look to Grayson, waiting for his response, but when my eyes land on his, a feeling of déjà vu washes over me. I glance down at the printed little boy and his grin.

That grin.

The world tilts on its axis. The dimples in the photo, the eyes, and the nose—they belong on Grayson’s face, yet they’re right here on someone else’s.

“Macy—” His voice stumbles over my name, breaking on the last syllable.

“Where did you get this?” I demand, trying to make sense of it.

His expression is full of sorrow. Of pain.

“No,” I say, shaking my head in denial. “No, no,no.” My chest feels exposed, like a hole ripped through it, exposing my heart to the airless room. I turn from him without an ounce of control over my body. My head still shakes, as if I have the power to deny what’s happening right now. To make it less real.

“Mace, please—” His arm touches my shoulder and I brush it off and cross the room.

“How?” I ask. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him. It’s so clear. “Daniel,” I breathe his true name.

Hurt crosses his face like he’s been gutted, but that can’t be true. Maybe I’m seeing my pain projected onto him.

“Did you know who I was?” I wonder out loud. “You read my name on my boarding pass. I told you I was going to my grandparents’ house in Sanibel—of course you knew,” I whisper. My heart somersaults at the prospect of finding him again, yet my mind sees the betrayal.He lied.The organs battle between what I should do in this moment, if I should wrap my arms around the boy I once loved or let myself hate him.

“I’msosorry.” His voice shakes and he holds up a hand. He looks moments away from crumbling.

“For pretending we were strangers? You were there when Sarah and I were talking about you, and you didn’t say anything!” I’m so deeply wounded that anger disguises my pain to protect me from it. “You kissed me, knowing exactly who I was. We had sex!” He’s a blur behind my tears. I hate how I cry when I’m mad, because he crosses the room and wraps me in his arms as if I need comfort.

I push him away which causes his face to fall. “You lied about your name!” I realize now that he never once told me his last name, and I never bothered to ask. This entire time, I only knew him as Grayson. A fake name.

He struggles to speak, and I realize he’s crying too.For the first time in over a decade.“Macy, please—” His voice comes out fragmented. I can hardly understand him. His chest heaves as if he can’t breathe. “Let me explain.” He shakes his head. “Grayson is my m-middle name.”

I feel like a paper target, my very center punched out by a thousand bullets. I thought he was different. As close to perfect as someone could get. I thought he was mine, that I unveiled his last mask. I was so wrong. So blind.So stupid.

“Why lie?” I ask in a soft voice.

“I want to tell you, b-but I can’t manage to say it—damn it!” He squeezes the roots of his hair.

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