Eleanor & Grey(68)

“You don’t have to apologize for feeling, Greyson. I would be just as lost and confused as you are, if not more so.”

He nodded once and stared at the fireplace. The fire sparked repeatedly against the logs, and the flames danced around as if they were going to burn forever.

“Why did you come back?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“After I fired you…why would you come back here to check on me?”

“Because I owed you.”

“For what?”

“Saving me when I was younger and about to drown.”

“Thank you, Ellie.”

I smiled. “Of course. Here, let me go get us some water to sober up.” I started to stand from the couch with my glass in my hand then paused when he spoke.

“It’s Lorelai’s birthday today,” he told me. He was opening up more and more as the whiskey settled within him. Please stay open, Grey. His finger thumbed the rim of his glass and his eyebrows lowered as he studied it. “She’s six today.”

I lowered myself back down to my seat and turned toward him. “Yeah, Claire told me. I had no clue. We could’ve celebrated. I could’ve made a cake or something.”

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t know how to face today.”

“I don’t under…” I started, but my words trailed away as the pieces clicked into place. Of course, he didn’t celebrate Lorelai’s birthday. “Because Lorelai’s birthday is the same day Nicole died.”

He nodded. “One year ago today, everything changed, and I never recovered from that. It’s bullshit, right? This person I’ve become, the person I am. I’m a monster.”

“Greyson—”

“Don’t, Eleanor. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Feel sorry for me. I know it comes easy for you to feel sorry for me, but I’m not the hero of this story. I’m the villain.”

He bit his bottom lip and wouldn’t look my way.

“You’re not a villain, Greyson.”

“Tell that to the girl who isn’t celebrating her birthday with her father—you know, the one who has more conversations with a ghost than with me, or the one whose body is battered and scarred because of my actions.”

I frowned, because I saw his struggle, but I also knew it from the other side. I was both of his girls. I was Lorelai, the girl wanting nothing more than her father’s attention and I was Karla—the girl who acted out just so he’d notice.

The only difference was that I’d never seen the guilt from my father that Greyson was displaying. I never saw the quiet moments where the truths of my father were revealed.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Again…I’m drunk,” he told me once more.

“That’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“I don’t know how to get it back,” he said, throwing me a curveball.

“Get what back?”

“My family.”

“Do you miss your girls?”

“Every day.”

“And you want to be in their lives?”

He sighed and his nose wrinkled up as he placed his glass down then put his hands on the back of his neck. “When I look at them, I don’t only see their mother. I see what I took away from them. I took away the glue of this family, and I don’t know how to get it back. So much time has passed now that I don’t even know if I’m allowed to have them back.”

“Yes, you are.”

“You saying it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s true.”

“No, you’re right, but it is true. They’ll take you back—without question, without hesitation.” I tilted my head. “Well, Karla might have a little hesitation, but that’s just because she’s Karla, and I think she’s stubborn.”

“I don’t know where she gets that.”

I smirked and rolled my eyes. “Yeah, no clue whatsoever.”

“I don’t even know where to start, really, how to even approach bringing myself back into their lives.”

“First you, then them. You need to help yourself first, Greyson. You have to get your mind right before you can be what your daughters need you to be. Plus, I can be your wingwoman.”

“My wingwoman?”

“Yeah, I’ll come up with excuses and events that we can all attend together. We’ll do an activity once a week. Then it will give you a chance to really connect with the girls.”

“You’d do that for me?” he asked, seemingly shocked by my offer.

“Greyson…you went out of your way to sit with me once every week when my mom was sick. You helped me breathe. It’s only right that I return the favor. So, what do you say? Will you let me be your wingwoman?”

He kind of smirked, and I kind of loved it.

Whatever.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I held out my pinky toward him. “Pinky promise?”

He linked his pinky with mine. I tried to ignore the butterflies that began to stir in my stomach, because those butterflies had no right to even exist.

When it came time for me to leave, I stood up and walked to the front door. The night sky was deep blue and drunk with stars. Greyson walked me out to the porch with his hands in his pockets.