Page 13 of Shame

I resented how Grace barely tripped over my life imploding. She kept going, pulled us back up, and I watched her surpass me in every way. And I let that resentment fester.

When we met, I was the rock she leaned on, a stable force for a whirlwind young woman who had come from an unstable background.

Once upon a time, the monumental amount of chaos she carries in her small frame excited me. When we met, she seemed hedonistic and wonderful, perfect and erotic.

We were complete opposites, and the attraction had been instantaneous. Lasting.

And then Sam ruined everything.

It was ruined before that.

Where the fuck was this second-guessing voice in my head six months ago? A year ago?

Drugged. Drowned in scotch and smothered by easy escape.

The collapse of our firm revealed me to myself as weak in a shocking and pathetic way. I wasn’t able to share anything but the briefest of updates with Grace. I found myself lying to her, hiding things, terrified she would blame me for bringing this ruin upon us.

And once I was lying to her about money and business, it was easy to lean into lies in other ways. Private ways.

I realize with a start that I’m now standing in front of our front door. I let myself in to a dangerously quiet space.

“Grace,” I call out, my voice shaking. “I’m back.”

No reply. Dropping my bag, I head straight to the bedroom, prepared to see her closet empty and suitcases gone.

Instead, I find her asleep on the bed, her face blotchy.

7

Grace

I drift awake,half-conscious when I realize Luke is wrapped around me, spooning me from behind.

His arm is heavy around my waist. His palm pressed to my belly. His thighs, longer than mine, are wedged right against my legs.

And for a moment, I’m struck with a deep familiarity. It’s been too long, but once upon a time, he would hold me like this all the time.

If I wake all the way up, I’ll push him away and jump out of bed. Iamgoing to do that very soon, in fact. But he’s so warm and I can feel his heartbeat.

Don’t cry.I’ve cried enough today, and felt so lonely I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I must have passed out on the bed while he was at work, and now he’s here, holding me.

Warm.

Strong.

Cheater.

I start to shake, and he makes a soothing sound from behind me. “I’m here,” he says, tightening his arms around me. His voice is rough, like gravel. “Is this okay?”

No. But I nod, because I like it even as I hate it.

“I’m sorry I went to the office.” He buries his face in my hair. “I shouldn’t have left you. We have so much to talk about.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I whisper. My voice is gravelly, too. “I need to…” I trail off. It doesn’t matter. Not today.

“Do you have work to do for your show?”

Tears spill out from behind my eyelids and fall in wet, fat drops on my pillow. “You’re not interested in that, remember?”

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