Page 126 of Play Me
She swallows, otherwise not moving a muscle.
“And I couldn’t think about that—I couldn’t get my hopes up about being with you—when I know that I still held too much space for Caroline. Hell, I’ve been paying for Liza’s rehabilitation bills for two years. How can I be with you if I have such enormous secrets?”
“You can’t.” She shrugs as if she can’t decide whether she’s resigned or angry. “Gray, I understand why you needed to see Liza. I respect that, and I’m glad you did it. It sounds like you both needed it to heal, and I’d never deprive someone from healing from their trauma.”
“Because you’re an angel.”
“But I have to be honest, too. I’m hurt you didn’t tell me about this. I told youeverything,” she says. “I was vulnerable. I shared things that humiliated me, and all the while, I explained to you that the things that hurt me the most were feeling invisible and being neglected emotionally. And then you withhold such important things—things that matter, and lie to me. That fucking hurts.”
“No, no, Astrid.Don’t you understand? I never would’ve gone to see Liza if it weren’t for you. I would’ve just lived with the guilt and been miserable for the rest of my life. But you—youmade me face it becauseyoudeserve more.” I take her hands and pull her in front of me. “Did I just botch this whole thing? Probably. Did I make an impulsive decision? Yes. I absolutely didn’t handle it the right way. But you matter to me so much that I got on an airplane today to get this behind me so I can be with you. So I can take care of you. So I can be free to be the man who can show up for you every minute of your life.”
She laces our fingers together, watching them tangle. It reminds me of being on my couch with her—the moment I realized that I’m falling in love with this woman. I can’t tell herthat tonight because it’ll feel like I’m just saying it. But I can show her. And I will.
“I wish you would’ve told me. I would’ve wanted to be there for you,” she says softly.
“And I appreciate that more than you can imagine.” I take a shaky breath as my bones begin to ache from exhaustion. “Astrid, sweetheart, I’m sorry that I hurt you today. You’re the only thing I care about. I’ve been fucked up in the head for two years, unable to pull my head out of my ass—nearly lost my reputation and my career over it. And I didn’t give a fuck.” I fight the burn in my chest and keep going. I have to get this all out in the open. “You gave me the courage to face my fear and find peace, to put the past where it belongs. Because you? You’re my future.”
Please, please believe me. Please don’t push me away.
“What are you saying?” she asks, her eyes widening, tears filling them again.
“I’m saying that I’m probably going to mess up because I tend to do that. But I give you my word that I will never make choices without including you in them. I want us to be a team from here on out.”
The corners of her lips tilt to the ceiling, and it’s like a light shining in my soul.
“I’m giving you my heart because I know it’s safe in your hands. And I want you to know that yours is safe in mine.” I lean toward her. “Always.”
She launches herself at me, letting me envelop her in my arms.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Gray
“I really wish you would’ve told me about this before now.” Hartley sighs through the phone. “That was a lot to go through on your own.”
Telling Hartley about Caroline and Liza wasn’t something I ever planned on doing. But I’ve thought a lot about my relationships with the people in my life a lot over the last few days. I got the idea, from my Pap, probably, that being a good friend, or brother, or son, meant not sharing the hard parts of your life with them. The goal was not to be a burden.
But I’ve come to realize, or theorize, anyway, that I might have been wrong. Because sharing the darkest part of my life with Astrid has only brought us closer together. It freed up a part of me that I can now use on her. Sharing the dark weakens it, allowing more light to shine through.
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “I should’ve said something. But I’ve put it behind me now and we’re all good.”
He chuckles. “I like this version of you.”
“What version might that be?”
“You’re a mortal, just like the rest of us.”
My laughter joins his, and it feels good.
“So, you’re on the back end of the season,” Hartley says. “Any plans for the offseason?”
I pace the kitchen as my stomach winds into a knot.
In a perfect scenario, I would go back to Sugar Creek for the offseason. Find a little place back there to fix up and spend more time on the ranch. But that feels like a dickhead thing to do to Hartley—just come back when I want to and leave when I need to. All the while, he’s stuck there every day.
“We have that cabin behind Baker’s Pasture,” he says. “It’s been empty for five or six years now. I let Jasper crash in it from time to time, but it’s yours, if you want it.”
