Page 95 of You First
At her car, she buckled Oscar in his car seat, started the engine, cranked up her worthless heater, and called him.
“Hey, sweetness.”
She warmed at his greeting.
“How are you feeling?”
Gray hesitated, and she didn’t miss it. “I’m okay.”
A jolt of fear shot from the top of her head down her spine. “You’d tell me if something changed, right?”
He didn’t answer.
“Gray? You’re scaring me.”
“It’s okay, Meredith,” his voice came out soft over the phone. “It’s just my eyes are acting funny. It’s happened before. Nothing new. Just a bother.”
Meredith held her breath. “Are you sure?”
This time, he didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, it just makes editing difficult. I was hoping you’d help me with that when you got here.”
“Oh, Gray—” Her breath left her in a rush. Turning him down when he needed her sucked. “—I hate to say this, but Oscar’s sick. I won’t be able to come today.”
“He is?” Gray asked, concern clear in his voice. “Well, just bring him with you, and we’ll look after him together.”
Oh my God.
Oscar’s own father had refused to help her clean up after she’d asked him twice. Now, here was Gray, who’d met Oscar only once, offering to help take care of him even while he was sick.
“You are…amazing,”she blurted, hoping to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I wish I could do that, but I can’t.”
“Why not? You don’t think he’d be comfortable here?” Again, his words stunned her.
“No, it’s not that,” she said, finally mastering her voice. “We just left the doctor’s. He has strep, and it’s pretty contagious. I can’t let him get you sick.”
“Strep throat? I haven’t had that since I was a kid,” Gray dismissed. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Well, I won’t,” she said firmly. “A fever and an infection could be risky for you right now. Besides, you’re two weeks away from surgery. You need to be as strong as possible.”
Gray was silent for a moment, and Meredith knew there was no argument against her concerns. And then he spoke.
“I get that,” he said. “But I need to see you.”
His voice was low, and the raw ache he tried to hide in his words tore her open.
“Gray,” she whispered, clutching the phone closer to her ear, wanting to lean into the sound. “I feel the same—”
“You make this bearable. Just you.”
The thought of going back to the McCormicks’ with Oscar felt like climbing down into the hold of a boat. Tiny. Windowless. Unsteady. Taking her baby instead to Gray’s felt sunlit and buoyant.
But taking him to Gray’s was not an option. Not today. Because…
Because she loved him.
This undeniable realization struck her as she sat in the front seat of her dinky little car with her sick baby strapped into his car seat. She could not picture a less romantic setting to recognize that she loved Gray Blakewood, but that did not matter at all. She loved him with everything she had. She loved him deep. She loved him before herself. She’d love him after she died. Meredith understood all this in the span of an instant, and she understood, too, that if she lost him, she’d be broken beyond repair.
So when she spoke, the words came easily. “I can’t see you until I know it’s safe. I won’t do anything that hurts you,” she swore. “But I have an idea.”
