Page 135 of Dare to Hold
She steps inside, and I close the door behind her, the click of the lock sounding too loud in the stillness. I watch as she scans the room, her gaze lingering on the freshly arranged pillows. Her lips quirk up just slightly, and I clear my throat.
“Can I…do you want something to drink? Water? Coffee?” I’m rambling, and I can’t seem to stop. “I have tea…somewhere.”
She shakes her head, slipping her bag off her shoulder and setting it by the door. “No, I’m good.”
“Okay.”
A beat of silence stretches between us, and I swear I can hear the ticking of the clock in the hallway. This is the first time we’ve been alone together in weeks.
I can’t take it any longer. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “About yesterday. Backstage. I was a jerk. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I shouldn’t have…”
“Gray, It’s fine.” She cuts me off gently, her eyes meeting mine. My shoulders sag with relief, but she steps forward, crossing her arms lightly. “I’m not here to talk about that.”
My brows knit together. “You’re not?”
She shakes her head, taking another step closer. I catch the faintest scent of her perfume—that perfect blend offlorals I’ve grown to crave. It’s like a punch to the chest, a reminder of how much I’ve missed her.
“I’m not here to talk about yesterday,” she repeats, her voice firmer. “I’m here because…I need to tell you something.”
My heart kicks up a notch, but I nod, waiting. She’s so close now, just a foot of space between us, and I resist the urge to reach for her.
She takes a deep breath. “I prayed yesterday.”
The words hang between us, fragile and full. My heart stutters, and I try to catch my breath. “You did?”
She nods, her gaze never leaving mine. “For the first time. Like…really, actually prayed.” Her hands twist together in front of her, and I watch her fingers fumble, knuckles going white. “I was sitting in my apartment, and everything just…crashed in on me. I realized I’ve been trying to fit into this mold I didn’t understand. I realized…” She pauses, blinking rapidly. “I realized I didn’t want to just fit in anymore. I want to belong.”
My throat tightens, and I take a step forward, my hands slipping into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Ivy…that’s…” I can’t find the words.
But she’s not done. Her gaze flickers to the floor, then back up to me, fire and uncertainty battling in her eyes. “I prayed for peace. I prayed to…to feel something real. And it was there, Gray. It was real.”
I can barely breathe. “That’s amazing,” I whisper, my voice barely a rasp.
Her lips curve into the softest smile, the kind that’s almost a secret. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know where to start.”
For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just stand there,the distance between us charged and humming. Finally, I clear my throat. “Do you…do you want to sit?”
She nods, and I guide her to the couch, sitting beside her but keeping a few inches of space between us. My hands rest on my knees, fingers laced together, and I steal a glance at her.
“You have no idea how grateful I am to see you choosing Him.”
Her eyes shimmer, but she blinks quickly, nodding. “Thank you.”
There’s silence again, but it’s comfortable this time.
Finally, I speak, the words coming out softer than I intend. “I was scared, you know. When I didn’t hear back from you.”
She looks up, surprised. “You were?”
I nod, swallowing hard. “I thought I’d messed everything up. I thought…” I pause, forcing the words out. “I thought I lost you.”
I can’t help it—I reach for her. My hand instinctively moves toward hers, fingers stretching out like they might catch the slipping threads of this moment. But before I make contact, she shifts back. Not dramatically. Not harshly. But enough.
Enough to make my hand freeze in midair before I awkwardly pull it back.
My chest tightens. I feel the shift, like a thread snapping in the middle of a long stretch. Panic surges up my throat, clawing its way into my words.
“Ivy,” I blurt, leaning forward, voice already trembling. “If this is about yesterday…about what happened backstage. I swear to you, it’s not who I am anymore. I don’t want to be that guy. I don’t want to push you away.”
