The Gravity of Us (Elements #4)(39)

For about thirty minutes, Talon sat in her swing, and I read her books that sat on her small bookcase. She smiled and giggled, and she made the cutest sounds in the world as her tiny nose ran. Eventually, she fell asleep, and I didn’t have the nerve to try to move her back into her crib. She looked beyond comfortable as the chair swayed back and forth.

“I’ll need to give her medicine in about an hour,” Graham said, breaking my stare away from the sleeping baby. I looked up at the doorway, where he stood with a plate in his hand. “I, um…” He shifted his feet around and avoided eye contact. “Mary prepared meatloaf and mashed potatoes. I figured you might be hungry, and that you wouldn’t want to eat with me, so…” He placed it on the dresser and nodded once. “There you go.”

He hurt my mind with the way he twisted my opinions about the person he truly was compared to the person he presented himself to be. It was hard to keep up.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He still avoided eye contact, and I watched as his hands clenched and released repeatedly. “You asked me what I was feeling that night. Do you remember?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Can I share now?”

“Of course.”

When his head rose and our eyes locked, I swore he somehow squeezed my heart with his stare. When his lips moved, I drank in every word that spilled from his tongue. “I felt anger. I felt so much anger at him. He looked at you as if you were unworthy of his attention. He insulted your clothing all night long as he introduced you to people. He discussed you as if you’re not good enough, and for the love of God, he gawked at other women whenever you turned your back to him. He was insensitive, rude, and a complete idiot.”

He dropped his head for a split second before bringing his eyes back to mine, his once cold stare now soft, gentle, caring as his lips continued to move. “He was a complete idiot for thinking you weren’t the most beautiful woman in that room. Yeah, I get it, Lucille—you’re a hippie weirdo and everything about you is loud and outlandish, but who is he to demand that you change? You’re a prize of a woman, rose petals in your hair and all, and he treated you as if you were nothing more than an unworthy slave.”

“Graham—” I started, but he held a hand up.

“I do apologize for hurting you, and for offending your boyfriend. That night just reminded me of a past I once lived, and I am ashamed that I let it get to me in such a way.”

“I accept and appreciate your apology.”

He gave me a half smile and turned to walk away, leaving me wondering what had happened in his past that upset him so much.





New Year’s Eve



“It hit the New York Times bestseller list, on today of all days. You know what that means, Graham?” Rebecca asked, spreading a new tablecloth on the dining room table.

“It means another reason for Dad to get drunk and show off his house to people,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

She snickered and grabbed the fancy table runner, handed him one end, and took the other in her hands. “It won’t be that bad this year. He hasn’t been drinking as much lately.”

Poor, sweet, na?ve Rebecca, Graham thought to himself. She must’ve been blind to the whisky bottles that sat in his father’s desk drawer.

As he helped her set the dinner table for the sixteen guests coming over in two hours, his eyes traveled across the room to her. She’d been living with him and his father for two years now, and he’d never known he could be so happy. When his father was angry, Graham had Rebecca’s smile to fall back on. She was the flash of light during the dark thunderstorms.

Plus, every year, he had a birthday cake.

She looked beautiful that night in her fancy New Year’s Eve dress. When she moved, the gold dress traveled with her, slightly dragging on the floor behind her. She wore high-heeled shoes that stretched out her small body, and still she seemed so tiny.

“You look pretty,” Graham told her, making her look up and smile.

“Thank you, Graham. You look quite handsome yourself.”

He smiled back, because she always made him smile.

“Do you think any kids are gonna come tonight?” he asked. He hated how the parties always had grown-ups and never any kids.

“I don’t think so,” she told him. “But maybe tomorrow I can take you to the YMCA to hang out with some of your friends.”

That made Graham happy. His father was always too busy to take him places, but Rebecca always made time.

Rebecca glanced at the fancy watch on her hand, one his father had given her after one of their many fights. “Do you think he’s still working?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”

She bit her bottom lip. “Should I interrupt?”

He shook his head. “Nuh-huh.”

Rebecca crossed the room, still glancing at her watch. “He’ll be mad if he’s late. I’ll go check.” She walked toward his office, and it was only seconds before Graham heard the shouting.

“I’m working! This next book isn’t going to write itself, Rebecca!” Kent hollered right before Rebecca came hurrying back into the dining room, visibly shaken, her lips now twisted in a frown.

She smiled at Graham and shrugged. “You know how he is on deadlines,” she said, making up excuses.