Page 187 of The Holiday Clause
Again, he thought about their argument in the yoga studio. “I never meant to take it that far.”
She reached for the framed photo of him and Magnus on the dock of the fishery, her hand coming dangerously close to the stack of old journals shoved half-heartedly on the shelf behind the nightstand.
As if sensing the one place he didn’t want her to look, she paused and touched one of the battered spines. His heart stopped.
“Is my name in here?”
“Only on every page.”
She took her hand away and tried to hide a smile. Then her brow pinched with what looked like regret.
He took a step closer. “I loved you before I understood what love meant, Wren. My parents...they didn’t feel what I feel for you. I didn’t grow up around it like you did with Bodhi and Haven.”
She looked up at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and nodded. “My dad loved my mom so hard it broke him when she died.”
Greyson understood that sort of love. Every time he tried to leave Wren, something inside of him shattered.
“If you would have told me how you felt…” Her words dissolved like missed opportunities.
“I tried. Every time I fixed a loose shingle or mended a step. Whenever I filled the bird feeders for you or patched a hole. I told you every way I could.”
“But you never actually said the words.”
“I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“No.” Was he really going to tell her the truth? “I’m still scared.”
Her frown reflected some of her own fear. “Of what?”
“That one day you’ll realize you could do so much better.”
She lowered her gaze and shook her head, a gentle laugh softening the mood. “Greyson, don’t you see?” She looked back up at him and smiled, fresh tears in her eyes. “You’re the best man I know. There’s no onebetterfor me.”
His throat tightened as he tried to swallow. “Life’s about to get really complicated, Wren.” He feared mentally checking out, like he’d done when his mom died. He didn’t want to face what was coming. “I have a habit of disappearing when things get too...real.”
“You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know you, Greyson. You’re not going to run this time. I won’t let you.”
Like an anchor stills a ship amidst a stormy sea , she kept him grounded in the face of the incoming storm. His father could hardly lift a spoon these days, yet he still intimidated the shit out of all of them. Not a single word of praise in over thirty years, yet some part of him still craves his father’s approval. And he wasn’t going to get it.
Hawthorne men don’t complain!
Stop sniveling!
Toughen up!
Keep acting like a baby and I’ll give you something to cry about!
Greyson’s chest tightened. “This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come here.”
“What? Grey, no. You need this time?—”
“For what?” The walls of his childhood room closed in around him like a cage. “So he can tell us one last time how much we disappointed him? It’s too late, Wren.”
