Page 28 of Shattered Souls
With that amiable smile still in place, Grayson places a hand over his chest. “I’m Grayson.” Gesturing to me, he says, “And this is Riley.”
His Gran’s gaze flits to mine, passing over my face and pausing on my auburn hair before returning to Grayson.
“Grayson and Riley. What lovely names.”
Gesturing to the spare armchair, Grayson silently tells me to sit as he pulls over a stool and perches on it.
“What are you knitting there?” I ask, indicating her knitting needles.
A grin that reaches her eyes spreads across his Gran’s face. “A baby blanket. My daughter is pregnant with our first grandchild.” Grayson’s inhale is audible, but the delight on his Gran’s face is blinding.
“That’s so exciting,” I say, keeping up the conversation and giving Grayson a moment. “Do you know yet if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“A sweet baby boy.”
“How far along is your daughter?”
“She’s just entered the second trimester and started showing a little baby bump.”
I grin at her. “She’ll be able to feel the baby kicking in no time. How was her morning sickness? I had a terrible time with my little one. Could barely keep anything down for the first twelve weeks.”
Gran’s eyes go wide as her gaze rakes over me. “You don’t look nearly old enough to have a child.”
Throwing my head back in laughter, I nod in agreement. “I have a three—nearly four—year old. A girl.” Fishing my phone from the pocket of my coat that I shed when I sat down, I pull up a photo and show her.
“Oh, isn’t she a sweetpea?” she coos.
“She’s a stereotypical little girl. Obsessed with princesses and everything pink.”
Gran chuckles, eyes still on the photo on my phone.
“My grandson was the same way at that age.” It takes me a second to grasp that showing her a picture of Aurora must have shifted her reality slightly, and my gaze slides to Grayson, who is staring transfixed at his Gran.
“He was obsessed with princesses too?” I tease, keeping my focus on Grayson. His gaze snaps to mine, and he mouths ‘haha’even as the corners of his lips lift.
“Oh gosh, no.” She chuckles. “Girls were gross. He was a typical boy, getting himself into all sorts of trouble. Had his mama constantly chasing after him, dragging him out of trees and cleaning up his cuts and scrapes.” Amusement softens her features. “She even had to hose him down in the backyard one day after he crawled through a hole in the hedge after a rainstorm.” She shakes her head. “He was covered head to toe in mud. Looked like a swamp monster.”
A rough rasp rips from Grayson.
“I bet he’s still a troublemaker,” I tease Gran.
Some of the life in her eyes fades, and her shoulders sag. “I wish. That boy carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s been through so much. He tries not to let it show, but I see the strain, the toll it’s taken on him. Losing his mother, enduring his father, and being forced to grow up too fast. It’s changed him, hardened him. He never complains or speaks of the hardships, but I see it. I see how it’s molded him into the man he is—for better or worse.”
Throat thick, my gaze slides to Grayson. My breath catches at the utter, wretched heartbreak that fractures his features.
He’s silent while I chat with his Gran for a bit longer, but I keep casting glances his way. He keeps his head buried in his hands, but I can tell his grandmother’s admission has affected him.
When it’s time for us to leave, I hold my hand out for her to shake. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too, dear.”
Grayson says his goodbyes before we leave her room, walking back to the reception in silence.
“How was she for you today?” a woman behind the desk asks when we approach.
“She was in good spirits.” Grayson’s response is terse, his features set into their typical impenetrable mask as he focuses on the visitor log before him.
“I’m sure she enjoyed having a new visitor,” the woman says, giving me a warm smile as Grayson signs his name and sets down the pen. “Well, it’s a beautiful day. You two should go and enjoy it. I’ve got your Gran, sweetie.”
