Page 68 of Mine To Keep (Southern Wedding)

I tap my phone with my finger as I look up at the numbers going up, stepping out when it pings, and the doors open. Every step I take echoes in my ears, and I feel a tightness in my chest. The same tightness I felt all weekend long, knowing she wasn’t going to be around me. During the day, it was easy to pretend it wasn’t there, but once Meadow went to bed and it was just me in the house, I couldn’t pretend anymore. I was in love with her. I was head over heels in love with her. No matter what I said or how I put it, that was the conclusion every time. No matter how many times I told myself it was wrong. No matter how many times I pointed out all the cons, all I had to do was picture her smiling face and all the excuses were out the window.

“Good morning,” I greet the receptionist before I round the corner, and my eyes go to her. She’s looking at her computer and the tightness in my chest gets even tighter, making it hard to breathe. Instead of going to my office, I make my way straight to the conference room. The meeting has already started since I’m so late.

“Hey,” I mumble, sitting down in my chair. I look over at Grace, who appears unaffected by this whole thing. I don’t even listen to what is being discussed in the meeting, and when I look back, I see her laughing at something Kayla says to her, making her more beautiful than my memories of her that played over in my head all weekend long.

The meeting finishes, and when I walk out, I’m more pissed than ever, and I don’t even know why. Well, I do know why. It’s because she just left. She left and didn’t even stick around to talk about it. I walk toward my office, and she looks up at me, her face going into a full smile when she sees me, making my stomach tense. “Good morning,” she greets cheerfully.

“Yeah,” I bark before walking past her desk and not stopping. I put my still full coffee on my desk before I take off my jacket and toss it on the couch. I’m rolling up my sleeves when I look over and see her knock on the doorjamb. She’s wearing a black top and a long black skirt with her high heels. “What?”

She walks into the office just a bit, and my hands itch to touch her. “I was wondering if we could set a time to talk.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Time to talk.” I laugh sarcastically as I finish rolling up my sleeves. “The time to talk was Friday,” I hiss, “and instead of talking to me, you took off.”

“You’re right,” she agrees softly, and I can see she’s breathing heavy because her chest is heaving. She is also holding her hands together, nervously wringing them. “I was just—”

I stop her, holding up my hand. Even my head tells me to relax, but I can’t. All the anger of her leaving has just bubbled over. “Instead of having a conversation with me like adults do, you pulled a tantrum like a child.” The minute the words come out of my mouth, I know I’ve fucked up. She takes a step back on one foot as if I hit her. Her eyes cloud over and not in a good way. “Grace.” I take a step toward her, but she holds up her hand, which I see is shaking.

“Thank you for your time,” she says, turning on her heel and walking, almost running, out of my office. She stops at her desk, leaning over to grab her phone before turning and rushing away from me.

“Fuck.” I shake my head and put my head down. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I turn back to walk to my desk, taking a huge breath in before I pull out my chair and wait for her to come back from the bathroom. My eyes are on her desk like a hawk. One minute turns into two turns into five. I look at my watch every thirty seconds, wondering if I should go and check on her. But how would that look if I just stormed into the women’s bathroom and kissed the ever-loving fuck out of her? I’m tapping my finger on my desk when I see Loren come to her desk with a box under her arm, placing it on Grace’s desk. I’m out of my seat like it’s on fire. “What are you doing?” I snap at her as she starts putting things in the box.

“Grace just quit,” she says, and the blood drains from my body, “and asked me to box her things up.”

“What?” I ask, feeling like the floor is being ripped out from under me.

“She said thank you for taking a chance on her,” Loren relays, picking up one of her coffee mugs she used all the time, “but she’s going to focus on school.” My heart hammers in my chest so hard it’s all I can hear. “But from her storming out of here, I’m assuming whatever you said to her was the final straw.”

“I didn’t—” I start to say, but she holds up her hand.

“Save it for someone who’s going to believe you,” she says, turning with the box of Grace’s things.

“Give me the box,” I snap. “I’ll go take it to her.”

“Funny you should say that. She said tell Caine he can show up, but I’m not going to be there.” I was wrong before. Right now, at this moment, it feels like the floor has been ripped out from under me.

I rush back into my office, grabbing my phone and my jacket before I race to the elevator. I press the button to the elevator once again, then I don’t stop for a full thirty seconds. I’m about to take the stairs when the doors open. I press the P button as soon as I step in, along with the button to close the door. Luckily for me, no one else gets in, and once the doors open, I’m dashing to my car.

I speed the whole way there, parking in the front of her building, not giving a shit if they tow me or not. Every single second is agony. Every single second feels like a lifetime. Every single second I pray that it’s not too late.

I get to her door and knock. “Grace, baby,” I say softly, knocking and knocking. “Please.” I put my head on the door, the tightness in my chest so much more than it was before. It’s even getting harder and harder to breathe. “Grace, please,” I say again, pleading. “I’m not going anywhere. If I have to sit out here all night, I will.” I take out my phone and call her, my hands shaking the whole time. It doesn’t even ring. It goes straight to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Grace. Leave a message.”

“Grace, baby,” I say, my voice broken. “Please call me back. I’m sorry.” I close my eyes. “I’m so, so sorry.” I hang up the phone and knock one more time, hoping she answers, hoping she puts me out of my misery even though I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her. “Please,” I beg to the brown door. I put my hand on the door, feeling the coolness on it. “Grace.” I knock again softly. I take one deep breath before I walk away. She said she wouldn’t be here, and I know in my gut she was not bluffing. Not this time. This was my third strike.

I leave her building, and the dread settles in. I pull up my phone and call the one person who might actually be able to help. He answers after two rings. “Yo,” he says, and I close my eyes, putting my head back on the headrest.

“Nash.” My voice comes out raw, and I look out the window.

“What happened?” The worry is in his voice now.

“It’s Grace,” I say. “I fucked up.”

“What else is new?” His tone changes as he laughs. “What did you do now?”

“It’s bad.” I look at the door to her building, hoping to catch her walking in, but the door doesn’t open. “So fucking bad.”

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