Page 89 of Grey

Liam waited until everyone was quiet before he brazenly reached out to the man sitting across from him, engaging him in conversation. “I heard you go to UCLA; what are you majoring in?” he casually asked while I saw my hand shake before I took a spoonful into my mouth.

“I’m still undecided. I’m just taking the basics for now,” Greyson responded with a hardened voice that didn’t invite friendliness.

Hearing him speak made me queasy, and the inkling to suddenly burst into tears threatened to take hold of me, so I had to take a break from eating. I reached out to drink half of my Malbec, gulping it down as if it was water.

“He’s going to be great! He won’t need a degree for anything!” Edith chimed in, giving Greyson theyou-walk-on-waterslashI-worship-theelook that was too nauseating to witness.

“You give me too much credit,” he softly murmured towards her.

She giggled before looking across the table, directing her gaze towards Liam. “He’s such an amazing husband. He takes good care of me, you know. I mean, I don’t even have to lift a finger because he does everything. I’m so lucky to have him because a lot of womentriedto take him away from me, but none of those wannabes ever succeeded. He loves me that much.”

Liam gave her an odd look. “That’s nice…”

“It so is,” she brightly chirped back, making me want to throw the rest of the wine in her face. But, of course, I didn’t. Instead, I sat there like a good sport, hoping this fiasco was going to end soon.

“I’m not one to cater to every whim and wish, but I’m quite confident to say that Olivia is trulysatisfiedin all aspects that matter most,” Liam delivered succinctly before taking hold of my hand and kissing the back of it.

My mother interrupted by clearing her throat, smiling directly at Liam and I. “I’m glad to hear that yousatisfyher needs and all, but as a mother, I’d rather not hear any more of what you two do in the privacy of your bedroom.” They all laughed. Well, except for Edith’s sour-faced party.

After that embarrassing incident, I focused my energy on finishing every dish delivered to me. From time to time, Liam would touch or kiss my cheek, however I was so distracted and so tense that making a simple conversation was difficult.

Not only that, but I got the feeling Greyson was furious—truly, maddeningly, royally pissed off at me. I hadn’t felt the heat of his stare, though for some bizarre reason, I somehow knew he was. It was as if he had been sewn into every fiber of me, like we were intertwined at a cellular and cosmic level of intimacy. It was disconcerting, yet at the same time, confusing for me.

He had yet to acknowledge me, and maybe in some ways I was waiting for him to so I could spark a conversation, but he never even considered it. An olive branch coming from him was very unlikely. He hated me, of that I was sure.

It was tragic to think that, a year ago, he couldn’t get enough of me as we had celebrated Christmas together after our parents had gone to sleep and he’d slowly made love to me in front of the very same fireplace where he had stood earlier.

It was funny how life could turn out. That, sometimes, even though a relationship was broken, one person couldn’t fathom acting or even pretending to be civilized. Or better yet, maybe they simply couldn’t be bothered with it because they were indifferent.

I knew I shouldn’t care, however I did. There was no mistaking when it came to my feelings towards Greyson any longer.

The more he ignored me, the worse it became for me because my love seemed unconcerned whether he acknowledged me or not. It kept growing abundantly, flourishing steadily with every breath I took.

* * *

The Christmas Eve dinner was actually quite fun if you took out Edith and Greyson from the picture. I wasn’t used to seeing her freely touching him without him saying a word about it—the old Greyson would’ve said something snarky that would put her in her place, but this new one didn’t. It seemed like the old one I had known so well had just been a figment of my imagination.

It was about one in the morning when everyone decided to leave after a quick toast of happy Christmas.

Before Liam kissed me fully on the lips, I caught a sight of them about to do the same thing. I knew Liam had done it so I wouldn’t see what happened, but I wasn’t an idiot, I could put two and two together.

Plucking a fresh set of my cotton nightwear out of the drawer, I strolled into the bathroom to wipe my make-up off and brush my teeth clean. Meanwhile, Liam had been in my room the entire time and hadn’t said a word. My mind was a jumbled mess, and asking him if he was okay would take too much effort, so I let us both stay submerged in our own quiet misery.

As I came out of the bathroom, he was still sitting on my bed, looking deep in thought when I decided to sit next to him. I laced my fingers through his own before I brought them to my lips, leaving a kiss on his warm, soft hand.

“Merry Christmas,” I softly whispered before giving him a small smile—a smile that meant effort, a smile that meant I was grateful for everything he had done for me.

“I love you.” He reached out to caress my cheek before giving me a chaste kiss. “Merry Christmas, beautiful,” he murmured before reluctantly pushing himself off the bed. He then gave me one last, thoughtful look before leaving my room.

Turning off the lights, I went back to bed and situated myself in the middle of it, eyes wide open as I pictured Greyson in my mind. I wished I’d had enough strength to look him in the eye and receive a glimpse of those brilliant golden eyes, even just for a second.

I had missed those captivating depths that used to make my toes curl, caused my heart to gallop and dive with one powerful cutting look, but above all, it used to make me fall at his feet. Those fiery orbs hypnotized me like no one else ever could. It was the power of those eyes and the very man himself, combined with his magnetizing aura that left me breathless.

Maybe it was being here, where everything and anything reminded me of him. This home held so many ghosts it was demoralizing. And what bothered me most was how those ghosts could come to life before my very eyes sometimes. It was like flashbacks, but you were seeing it before you.

Our minds were capable of mind-boggling powers. If my heartbreak could lead me to such lengths of imagination, I wondered how it would be for those who were hell bent on revenge. Our minds were gateways to a world of the unknown, and I sometimes wished I had the power to transport myself to the very beginning in order to change some of the things that had made me miserable today. However, that was wishful thinking.

Enduring this deep, rotting ache was my penalty for playing with fire. I had been warned several times, and yet, I let my body and my heart conquer over me before rationale.

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