Page 85 of Keeping You

I take a sip of my water, not wanting to have this conversation right now. Hannah’s words are still tossing around in my mind as I try to come to terms with the fact that in eight days, my marriage may be over. The thing that makes it sting a little more is the day before I get to stand up with my friend and watch him marry the love of his life.

“I’m not,” I say.

Liz sits back in her seat and shakes her head. “Down right dumb, the both of you,” she says, and I choke on my water.

“Excuse me?”

“Both of you refuse to see what’s right in front of your faces. I can’t tell either of you, because for some reason neither of you can understand reason.”

I shake my head, trying to understand what she’s skirting around, but she changes the subject.

“How’s your dad?”

I clear my throat. “He’s good. Not a huge fan of his new diet, but him and Mom are enjoying their walks together.”

My server places my food in front of me and a takeout bag in front of Liz. She thanks the server and stands.

“Grayson, just remember, don’t fuck this up.” With those parting words, she leaves the diner, and I’m left staring at her back, wondering what the fuck just happened.

When I return to the apartment, Hannah’s gone, and I shower and crash. For the next two days, we’re like passing ships in the night, one getting up and ready for work as the other comes home and crashes. Tuesday is the first day we have off together, and the tension in the air is palpable. I don’t know what to say to Hannah. I want her more than I did at the beginning of this, but I’m not sure I can put my heart on the line anymore and ask her to stay.

Opening up to her at the tree was hard enough. Reliving that pain all over again had me nauseous. Her touch was like a salve to my heart as I told her my deepest secret. She stayed with me, too. She didn’t try to leave or talk me out of my feelings; she listened and held me. I didn’t think I could fall more in love with her, but I was wrong.

We sit to have lunch together, and she slides a piece of paper with a list on it across to me.

“I did some research, and these are some of the best therapists that deal with trauma from youth and PTSD. I think one of them could help you. I’ve added their numbers and where they practice so you can also search them if you want.”

She tucks her head as if embarrassed, but my heart wants to beat out of my chest. I haven’t found the time since getting back to research therapists like I said I should, but she just took it right off my to-do list for me, finding multiple that would meet my specific needs. Hannah Smith doesn’t know it yet, but she holds my heart in her palm, and with every gesture like this, she squeezes it a bit more, making giving her up that much harder.

I place two fingers under her chin and force her to look at me. “Thank you,” I whisper, and she nods.

I need to make the most of the last few days I have with her, so I ask, “Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

Her eyes widen as she nibbles on her bottom lip. “Yeah, that would be nice,” she says.

We finish eating, and I head out to grab a few things. Returning, I hide them in my office until it’s time for us to leave. I’ve made us a reservation at one of my favourite upscale restaurants in the city. I tell Hannah to dress to the nines, and she spends a few hours getting ready. When she steps out of the bedroom in an emerald dress that lands at her mid-calf and hugs her every curve, my mouth goes dry.

She’s stunning.

The dress has long sleeves, and the neckline comes up to her throat. She’s completely covered, yet I know what’s underneath all that fabric. I’ve spent my time tracing her body with not only my eyes, but my fingers, my tongue.

I reach down and adjust myself in my slacks and approach her. I hand her the bouquet of lilies and carnations I grabbed earlier. Her face lights up as she takes the flowers and sticks her nose in them, inhaling deeply.

“Lilies are my favourite,” she says as she fills a vase with water and settles them inside.

I know, I think.

After locking the door behind us, I take Hannah’s hand, needing to touch her as much as possible while I still can.

The lighting is intimate in the restaurant as soft music fills the air, but I barely notice any of it as I stare at Hannah. The way her hair delicately cascades over one shoulder, or when her finger meticulously runs through the condensation on her water glass.My skin heats at the feeling of her eyes on me. Her pupils dilate when I adjust my watch or take a slow sip of my wine. The sexual tension could be cut with a knife, and as much as I want to take her hand and leave with her, I want to draw it out, because I know that when we get home, we’ll be explosive.

“What are you girls doing Friday night?” I ask, needing something so my control doesn’t snap.

“Liv’s parents are taking Cate, and Charlie will be with Caleb’s mom, so after we get our nails done, it’s a night in with movies, snacks, and booze,” she says. I hear the happiness for Bailey and Caleb, but also longing in her voice. I know our Vegas wedding deprived her of what she always wanted.

If I could, I’d go back and make sure it was everything she wanted. Everything.

I take a deep sip of wine and decide to admit to something I haven’t told her yet. I didn’t think I’d tell her.

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