Page 188 of The Elusive Billionaire
She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. “But if it is, we’ll figure it out together. I’m in this, Monroe. You’re not going to scare me off with your doomsday fears. Now, are you ready to go see our new and improved home?”
I haven’t abated her fears—a shadow lurks behind her sad eyes—but hopefully the changes Elle and I have made will show her how serious I am.
“I’m ready.” She pouts. She’s so damn cute when she pouts.
“Then let’s welcome you home, sweetheart.” I push her chair up the newly paved driveway, up the ramp, and through our front door.
“Holy shit,” she gasps the moment I get her over the threshold.
Elle has redecorated the entire space to fit the coastal vibe Savvy had at her condo.
Slowly, I push her chair into the family room so she can take it all in.
The couches are a shade of light grayish-green I can’t remember the name of, but they’re huge and make you want to sink into them and never get up. The coffee table is made of old driftwood that Cian pulled from the bay that Moose transformed into a statement piece for the room.
“Everyone helped,” I tell her. I’m thankful that even though I can hear what sounds like a herd of elephants outside, they’re giving us the privacy of this moment.
“You changed your entire house.”
I chuckle. “I did because it’s not my house anymore, it’s ours, and I wanted you to be comfortable here.”
“But you have to live here too. What about what you want?”
“That’s easy. There’s only one thing I want, one thing that can make me happy, and that’s you. The rest of this is just…jewelry.”
“Grey.” It’s a half sob, half gasp as I turn her chair to head to the kitchen. She holds up her hands, silently asking me to wait.
On the far wall are framed photos. Photos of us as children, photos of us together, photos of our friends who have become our family. They’re all positioned at the ends of branches of an iron tree that’s been hung against the wall.
“It’s our family tree. Our family, Monroe, the way we create it. Elle and I had it made, and sourcing some of the photos wasn’t easy because your friends are a nosy bunch of asses, and it was supposed to be a surprise, but I…” I pinch the back of my neck. “Well, I thought it was important. This, here, these people, this is our life—our family, and it’s beautiful because we chose it.”
“Geez, Grey. I wasn’t prepared for this. It’s…it is beautiful and so meaningful. Thank you.”
“We’re not done yet. Want to see the kitchen? We put the elevator back there too.”
She nods, and I wheel her through the house.
“Holy shit,” she blurts when we enter the kitchen. It used to be all dark wood and—Elle said—very masculine-feeling. Now it’s white, and bright, and straight out of a magazine. “Grey, what did you do, completely gut the place? What about Moose? Isn’t he upset?”
“No, he actually helped with almost everything. He wants this to be a family home. He wants us to be happy here. I should also mention that Cian finished the apartment above the new garage, and I’d like Moose to move in there eventually, if that’s okay with you. He isn’t doing so well on his own anymore.”
“Yes,” she forces out. “Of course.” Her emotions are getting the better of her. “You shouldn’t have done all this though. Not for me.”
I whirl her chair around, and she makes a startled sound.
“Always for you, Savannah. Always. The sooner you learn that, the better off we’ll both be. You’re not going to come in second anymore. You’re not going to be last on the list, even if that list is your own. You, sweetheart, deserve the world.”
“But.” Tears well in her eyes. “I’m still so fucked-up, Grey.”
“So am I. We’ll be fucked-up together.”
“No, what I mean is, I have a lot of trauma that I still need to work through. A lot of ghosts I need help burying. It isn’t fair for me to ask you to wait while I figure out who I am.”
“Still so stubborn,” I whisper. “You’re not asking me to do anything. I’m here because it’s where I want to be, end of story. And I’m so glad you want to talk with someone. I have a list of the best therapists in the state, but if you don’t like any of them, we’ll keep looking until you find someone you’re comfortable with. Sage told me that the most important thing is that you’re comfortable.”
“You…” She frowns, and I feel like I’m messing something up. “You looked into therapy for me?”
Shit. “Just to have in case you wanted to. The doctors suggested it, so I took the initiative, but you’re definitely in the driver’s seat. You choose whoever you think is best. I’m just here to support you. And…” I release a heavy sigh that slows my racing heart. “I’ve been looking for someone for me to talk to as well. I want us to work, and I want us to be the best versions of ourselves for that to happen.”
