Page 56 of When We Had Forever
“Well...yeah.”
He gives a broken chuckle. There’s a rawness to it, a vulnerability that makes him sound nothing like the Michael of recent years.
It makes my belly clench, but indignation flares the moment I recover. “What about that is funny, exactly? You must realize he only got rid of that picture because you hurt him badly enough that he had to cut any reminders of you out of his life, right?”
He pauses. “You thinkIhurthim?”
“I know you did,” I snap. He can’t be serious, can he?Michaelwas the one who so desperately wanted to make peace, up until That One Time... “You know, I was there that day, when you bashed his face in. In Seattle. After you got him out of jail.”
“After I got him out of jail,” he repeats flatly.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”
“Oh, I remember. I’ll never forget.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have known it, but I was upstairs in our condo that day. Which means I got to be the one to try to put him back together again afterward.”
“Oh, yeah? And how did that go?”
I hesitate at the bluntly personal question. So much for small talk. Grayson has ventured straight into territory that drives a heated flush up the back of my neck. “Not that it’s any of your business, but not well. Michael was never the same after that. I don’t know what the hell you did that day, but it changed him.”
This time, his laugh turns bitter, the bourbon laced with arsenic. “Oh, come on.Ididn’t change him. He was only ever himself. At least hold him accountable for his own actions.”
I clamber up off the floor. At least ten miles’ worth of frustration is suddenly bubbling up inside me, maybe eleven. I need to run hard enough and long enough to drain myself dry.
But the moment the thought forms, I catch myself. Damn. Kate was right. I’ve spent so much time bottling everything up that I don’t know how to tackle things head-on anymore.
Luckily, there’s another option. A man on the other end of the line who deserves my anger. “Do you want to know the truth?”
“Sure. Why not? I get the sense you’re going to tell me anyway.”
I bristle. “Yep. And here it is. Even though we’ve never met and I don’t know the first thing about you, I’ve hated you for fourteen years based on that day. Maybe you’re right, and that’s unfair. Maybe Michael’s the only one I can blame for...well, being Michael. But I know things would’ve gone differently if you hadn’t shown up and attacked him out of the blue. And don’t even try to deny that you were the one who picked that fight. I know it was your fault.”
“I don’t deny it,” he shoots back. “But it wasn’t out of the blue. Michael deserved every bit of what I did. He deserved worse, actually. Much worse.”
My words come out in a deadly whisper. “Hegotmuch worse, eventually. In case you’ve forgotten.”
Grayson inhales sharply, as if realizing what he’s said. “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. But...still. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t hit him all over again, if I could.”
My jaw works. Briefly, I consider hanging up. I already know he’ll never call me again, so what does it matter?
Something stops me, though. In some ineffable way, it’s a relief to talk to someone like this, without worrying about whether my next remark will widen the distance or close it. It feels so fucking good to let my anger out. To allow some color to burst inside me.
I spit words through gritted teeth. “Who holds a grudge against a dead man?”
“I do, apparently.”
“Well, you sound like an asshole.”
“Probably because I am.”
His ready agreement throws me.
“But for what it’s worth,” he continues doggedly, “Michael hurt me, too. No one else has even come close to tearing me apart the way he did. You have no idea.”
That stops my tongue. He sounds so...earnest, as if he finds his wounds exhausting but feels compelled to acknowledge them anyway. And then I remember.
Grayson lost Lily, just like I lost Michael. Only, unlike me, he had someone to blame.
