Page 80 of Shattering

And then there were the evenings.

Gray had taken to making dinner. At first, there had been mishaps—burnt pasta, undercooked chicken, a lasagna that had collapsed in on itself—but he was getting better.

One night, he made Cadi's favourite—four cheese pasta.

After the meal, Cadi groaned, stretching. "I can feel it settling in my hips."

Gray glanced at Tomos, who was glued to the TV, watching Lightning McQueen race across the screen.

Then, he turned back to Cadi, voice low and teasing. "I look forward to checking if that's true."

Cadi blushed.

Gray gave her an exaggeratedly lascivious look that had her in giggles.

The cloud that had followed him—especially after his mother's death—had begun to lift slowly.

Session: His Mother's Secrets

Dr. Sloan sat across from Gray, calm and steady, letting the weight of the conversation settle before he spoke.

"You've learned a lot recently," he said. "About your mother. Her trauma. The lengths she went to protect you."

Gray exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face, feeling the burn of emotions he wasn't sure how to control.

"I hated her for so long," he admitted, voice rough. "I loved her but I blamed her for not getting out sooner. For staying. For letting herself be treated like that. I thought she was..." His throat worked. "I thought she was weak."

Dr. Sloan didn't respond immediately, allowing the words to sit in the open, to breathe.

Gray clenched his fists. "I was just a kid. I didn't understand. I saw her crying, shaking, unable to get out of bed some days, and I resented her for it." He laughed bitterly. "Christ, I used to pull the covers off her, trying to make her move. Begging her."

His jaw tightened. "And when she didn't? When she just stared at the wall, I'd think—Why doesn't she fight? Why does she let them win?"

Gray swallowed hard, his chest aching with the memory.

"But now I know," he murmured hoarsely. "Now I fucking know."

Dr. Sloan nodded, letting him continue.

"She stayed because of me. Because she had to keep me safe. Because she knew the second she ran, they'd come for us." His voice dropped lower. "She took the hits so they wouldn't touch me. She swallowed the insults so I wouldn't hear them. She let herself be beaten down, so I wouldn't be."

His voice wavered. "She did what needed to be done to be sure they wouldn't follow us. And when she finally left, she made damn sure we were safe."

He swallowed, pressing his knuckles against his lips. "I was angry at the wrong person."

Dr. Sloan studied him. "What would you say to her now, if you could?"

Gray let out a shaky breath, his throat burning. "I'd tell her... I was wrong. That I understand now. And that I'm so fucking sorry."

A heavy silence stretched between them before Gray spoke again, his voice thicker, rawer.

"I miss her." His fingers tightened. "More than I ever let myself admit."

Dr. Sloan's voice was softer now. "What do you miss most?"

Gray exhaled sharply, eyes burning. "Her laugh." His throat bobbed. "It wasn't loud. But it was... real. When she was happy, really happy, it was the softest sound, like she was scared to take up too much space. But when I was little, and I did something stupid, she'd cover her mouth and giggle like she was my age."

A shaky breath. "I miss the way she held me. She smelled like lavender and something warm, something... safe. I used to burrow into her side when I had nightmares. Even after we left, when I was too old for it, she'd let me crawl into her bed sometimes."

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