Page 11 of Keeping You

Not sure what to say, I nod. I push up from the bench and start toward the apartment. He catches up and matches pace with me.

“Hannah, I know this isn’t a situation you thought you’d be in right now, but we are. You could at least talk to me.”

“You’re right,” I bite back. “I didn’t see myself coming back from Vegas married to you. I think the most frustrating thing is not that I woke up married to you, but that instead of just signing annulment papers, you’ve made me agree to ninety days.”

“Being married to me for ninety days is such a hardship for you? You’d rather be married and end it within seven days than be married to me?”

I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. “Grayson, we tried this before. It didn’t work out. I don’t really believe that people change.”

He nods and slows his pace. I keep steady, pulling away from him, thankful for the distance.

All of this has me remembering the very unpleasant feelings of two years ago. Grayson and I had gone on a few dates, done coffee and dinner, and I thought we were building something. That was until I walked in on him and Samantha in a supply closet before Grayson and I were supposed to meet for dinner one night. Her hands were in his hair, and they were kissing. My stomach had turned instantly, and I ran out of the room and made my way to the closest bathroom, emptying the contents of my stomach. I ignored all his texts and calls after and met up with the girls at a bar and got wasted.

The girls know Grayson and I went out a few times, but what I didn’t tell them was that I had started to see a future with him. My parents’ marriage might have completely fallen apart, and it was hard on me, but it didn’t make me lose the desire for true love. Seeing it with Olivia and Josh and then Caleb and Bailey has only made me yearn for it more. I want that person who makes me feel complete. Someone who truly knows every part ofme. More and more, I’m beginning to feel like I might never find that.

As if my mother can read my mind, my phone buzzes with a text when I walk in the front door.

Mother

Don’t forget my birthday celebration is next weekend.

Hannah

Yes. I’ll be there.

Mother

You should bring someone with you. You won’t be young forever.

Hannah

Maybe.

Mother

I’m only looking out for your best interest, Hannah.

Hannah

I’m good, Mom.

I toss my phone on the bed before making my way into the shower.

Ever since I turned eighteen, my mother has been trying to set me up or pushing me to date and find someone. Her idea of an ideal partner is someone who makes a lot of money. She doesn’t care about anything else. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why she married her third husband. But I want more. I’m not going to settle for a loveless marriage just because someone can support me financially. I can do that all on my own. I want someone who will be there through thick and thin. Someone I look forward to coming home to after a long day. I want themto get along with my friends and understand just how important they are to me. My girls are the family I’ve chosen. I’m an only child and I always wanted siblings, and the girls are my chosen ones.

When I head into the kitchen, Grayson is already there cooking something. He turns and looks at me, nodding slightly as he takes what looks like an omelette out of the pan and places it on a plate before putting it on the table and returning to the stove, making another. He looks back at me. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

I do as I’m told and dig into the omelette. It’s delicious. I’m not sure where Grayson learned to cook, but everything he’s made me so far has been amazing. Not that I’d tell him that. He doesn’t need anything else to grow his enormous ego.

Settling in beside me, he says, “I’m working tonight, so I can give you a ride and bring you home in the morning if you’d like.”

I still haven’t grabbed my car from my place, and I don’t want to have to walk home tomorrow. I accept and finish my food then take my plate into the kitchen and load the dishwasher.

“What time do you want to leave?” I ask.

“Six thirty.”

“I’ll be ready,” I say before going to the bedroom, grabbing my Kindle, and settling into the bed.

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