Page 57 of When We Had Forever
Between one moment and the next, my anger sputters out. I sink onto the daybed, shame rising hot in my chest. How could I forget that I don’t have a monopoly on this experience? That I’m not the only one who’s struggled to rebuild after the worst has happened?
“I’m sorry.” My voice shrinks. “You’re right. I forgot that you’ve had your world end, too.”
He sighs bitterly. “Maybe you do have an idea, then. Maybe you understand better than anyone else.”
I go quiet. Even now, I have no idea how Lily died or whether Grayson has reason to find fault with my husband. I don’t dare ask, either.
“Jesus,” I say. “I have no idea why I gave you my phone number, then got ugly within ten seconds of answering.”
“I do. Because you’re angry. Obviously.”
Try as I might, I detect no blame in his words. “You’re right. I’m pissed. Pretty much at the whole world, at this point.”
“Good. You should be.”
My brows furrow. “Why do you say that?”
“Because life hasn’t treated you all that well. And I’m not the only Drake who’s an asshole. Michael wasn’t exactly the poster child for selflessness.”
“Michael was wonderful,” I say. “At least, he used to be, before you bashed his face in. And after that, sometimes, too. He may have gotten...closed off, but he was always generous. And never cruel. Which means if he hurt you, he didn’t mean to.”
Grayson barks a laugh. “Oh, no. He knew exactly what he was doing. Trust me.”
I frown. That almost makes it sound like Michael killed Lily on purpose. Which doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense.
“You don’t think he—” I hesitate. I’ve spent fourteen years keeping Lily’s name locked behind my lips, and don’t want to free it unless Grayson does first. “—took her from you on purpose, do you?”
He remains quiet for so long that I wonder if he’s hung up. But I can still hear him breathing.
I tense. I recognize that silence, the signpost marking the point at which I’ve pushed too far. The weight of old habit settles on my shoulders. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”
He sighs. “I do, though. I’m going to be honest with you, Mina. I’ll answer every question you ask. Even if they’re fucking nuclear, like that one.”
My mouth opens. No sound comes out. It’s such an un-Michael-like thing to say, and hearing it in my husband’s voice only confuses me.
“So.” Age-old pain saturates his words. “Yes. I do think he took her away on purpose.”
Now it’s my turn to deliver a heavy-breathing silence. What felt like solid ground a minute ago turns wobbly and sucking, the conversation like quicksand beneath my feet. Clearly, the bad blood between them runs deeper and darker than I knew.
Because if I’m hearing correctly, Grayson thinks my husband killed his fiancée intentionally.
Which is inconceivable. Michael might have had habits I didn’t know about—like following his brother’s every move and daydreaming about divorcing me—but he wasn’t a killer. Nothing on this earth can possibly convince me otherwise.
I glance through the open door to where my groceries lie in a heap. “This conversation has gotten way off track,” I murmur. “I know you didn’t call so I could rip open wounds that healed decades ago.”
“They never healed. But, that aside, this is exactly why I called. So you could say whatever you need to.” His tone lightens. “Ididoffer to let you throw coffee in my face, remember? This is probably as close as it gets, over the phone.”
Despite myself, that tugs a smile free. “But why? Why do you care? You don’t even know me.”
He pauses. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m nobody to you.”
“That’s...not true. I realize you don’t knowme, apart from the shit you’ve read on the internet, but I know more about you than you realize.”
I blink, rapid-fire. That could only be true if... “Are you saying you and Michael kept in touch?”
Another sigh bleeds out of him. “Just because he never talkedaboutme doesn’t mean he didn’t talktome.”
