"He didn't think he was good enough. He grew up a little differently to how we did, and he assumed that she wouldn't be interested because his family didn't come from money like ours did."
I frown at the logic, even though people are rejected because they're poor all the time. "That's silly."
He chuckles. "I know, baby, but he didn't know any better at the time. Maybe now that he can take care of himself, he'll feel differently and realize what a dumbass he was."
The thought that Grayson wouldn't want to be with me if he thought I was poor bothers me. My father came from old money and when he died, he put it in a trust fund for when I got older. My mother had permission to use the money to live off of, but she insisted we get by without it. In the end, my stupid trust fund is what got her killed. Her last boyfriend, the one behind bars for her murder, found out about it and when she wouldn't give him a cent of it to support his alcohol habit, he killed her in a blind rage.
This is yet another secret I choose to keep hidden.
"Huntley?”
I snap out of the memories that sometimes hold me captive and realize I'm clutching Graysons t-shirt in my fists. I look into his warm green eyes and smile weakly. "I'm fine." The lie falls from my lips with ease. Grayson's expression tells me he doesn’t quite believe me but he doesn't push it. Instead, he takes his shirt off, knowing I like the feel of his skin on mine, and slides further into bed. He covers us with the comforter and I snuggle into his chest, blanketed by his strong, muscular body.
Sleep eludes me, my thoughts troubled and plagued by the things that I'm keeping from Grayson, things from my past that I should've shared before we started dating. I clutch him tighter. Once I tell him, he'll leave me.
I need to enjoy this moment, holding him to me.
Because tomorrow this could possibly no longer be mine.
He could possibly no longer be mine.
** ** ** ** ** ** ** **
I wake up to Grayson's sleeping form. The sun shines through the curtains and casts a dim light on his face. I wouldn't mind waking up to this every day. He looks peaceful and almost God-like. I resist the urge to run my fingers across his slightly parted lips and slip out of bed as quietly as possible. When I'm dressed, I walk into the kitchen, finding Brody already making coffee.
"Good morning," I say. I grab a coffee mug and stand next to him.
Brody is also quite the looker. He has bronzed skin and a completely ripped body. His hair is a dirty blonde color that hangs on his forehead. It's a good thing that seeing him shirtless doesn't make my belly flop the way it does when I see Grayson shirtless. Or when I see Grayson, period.
"Hey you," he replies, his voice thick and husky with sleep. But judging from his eyes it's from a lack thereof. "How'd you sleep?"
"Not so great." I take a sip of coffee and let it warm me from my belly to my toes. Coffee and chocolate are two things I will never be able to give up. Ever.
"Me neither, " he sighs.
"How is she?"
He looks at me with sadness and regret in his eyes. "Ok I guess. She had nightmares last night, woke up every thirty minutes screaming 'Please stop!'. God, I feel so helpless. And guilty. I know what we did is wrong, but I couldn't stop it, even if I wanted to. God Himself could not stop me from being with her."
"You guys will figure it out," I say. I wrap my arm around his waist and hug him. He needs comforting as much as Demi does and my heart breaks for both of them.
"I hope so," he says, sipping on his coffee. "Where are you off to?"
I shrug. "I'm going to see Aunt Emma about something. I'll be back in a little while.”
I grab my keys just as he says something about Grayson but I miss it when the door closes. I waste no time getting into my Jeep and heading over to my aunt and uncles’ house. I need her advice, it's the closest to motherly advice I'll ever have again.
"Hello?" I walk through the front door of their house but it's quiet. Shit. Maybe they're still at church.
"Huntley? Is that you sweetheart?" my aunts voice comes through the arch way leading to the living room. She's lying on the couch with a book in her hand.
"Hi, Aunt Em. I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"
My aunt frowns and gets off the couch. "Of course not, sweetheart. You are welcome here. It's your home too." She smiles warmly at me and pulls me into a hug. The affection is just what I need. "Is everything ok darlin'?"
"Can we talk?"
"Of course sweetheart. Let me make us some tea and you can tell me what’s weighing so heavy on that heart of yours."
She can read me well, the way a mother can read their own child. Its times like these I miss my mother, but I'm equally grateful to have my Aunt Emma. She has stepped in to be a mother to me, without making me feel likes she's trying to replace my mother altogether. It makes me love and respect her so much more.
A little while later, Aunt Emma comes back with a tray in her hand. She settles on the couch and makes us both a cup of tea.
"Now," she says, setting her cup down on the living room table. "Tell me what's bothering you sweetheart."
I swallow hard before retelling what happened with Demi yesterday. Her eyes go wide with shock when I tell her how I found Demi and my own fill with tears. She rubs my back, comforting me. "It was hard to see her like that without remembering what I went through," I say.
"Oh honey, the way you reacted was perfectly normal. You understand what that girl is going through a little better than most people. Have you spoken to Grayson about what happened to you before you came to Breckinridge?”
I shake my head and try to swallow my tears. "No, but after yesterday, after he saw me almost freak out, I think he deserves to know. But I'm terrified that if I tell him, he won't look at me the same. What if he doesn't want me after he finds out that I'm damaged goods?"
Aunt Emma wraps her arms around my shoulder. "First of all, you are not damaged goods. Don't ever let me hear you refer to yourself that way again or I'll be forced to give you a hiding. You have been through more than most people your age and you've become so incredibly strong because of it. And second of all, how do you know Grayson will leave you once he knows? I don't think that boy will ever leave you, even if he wanted to. He's so smitten with you sweetheart, he goes all googly eyed whenever you're with him."
"I'm scared."
"I know baby girl. But love does that to you. I know how you feel about Grayson, which is exactly why you need trust him enough not to leave you when you tell him the truth. If he's the kind of man I know he is, he will love you more than he already does."
"You think he loves me?"
She scoffs. "That boy would jump in front of an eighteen wheeler if you asked him to. Anyone can see that he loves you."
"I love him too," I choke out. "But how do I tell him what's on my heart when I'm afraid he'll reject it because it's not whole?"
"Sweetheart, let him put it back together. You might find that you can piece his heart back together too."
I'm too caught up in my own inner conflict to ponder about her last statement. Instead, I focus on calming my thoughts and drawing on my inner strength. I can do this. Grayson deserves to know.