Chapter 136 Thank you
Cassie
Afterward, we lay tangled together, his heartbeat gradually slowing under my ear. I traced idle patterns on his chest, content to simply be close to him without needing words.
"Thank you," he murmured eventually, his voice drowsy.
"For what?"
"For not running. For not treating me like I'm fragile. For choosing me even after seeing the worst parts of who I am."
I propped myself up on one elbow to look at him. "Those aren't the worst parts of you, Greyson. Those are the parts you survived. The worst parts are the ones you choose cruelty, dishonesty, cowardice. You haven't shown me any of those."
A small smile tugged at his lips. "How did you get so wise?"
"I had a good teacher," I said, thinking of my father. "He taught me that people are more than their worst moments. More than the things that happen to them."
Greyson's eyes drifted closed, exhaustion finally catching up with him. Within minutes, his breathing evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep. I watched him for a long time, memorizing the unguarded expression on his face, the way his features softened without the weight of his past pressing down on him.
He looked younger like this. Peaceful. Like the boy he might have been if James Turner had never entered his life.
I carefully extracted myself from his embrace, intending to let him rest while I cleaned up. But his arm tightened around me, pulling me back against his chest.
"Stay," he mumbled, still half-asleep.
So I stayed, allowing myself to be held, to be the anchor he needed even in sleep. I was just drifting off myself when his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Greyson stirred, reaching for it with a groan. When he saw the caller ID, his entire body went tense.
"I have to take this," he said quietly, already sitting up.
I nodded, giving him privacy by closing my eyes and settling back into the pillows. I heard him answer, his voice taking on that professional tone he used when discussing business.
"Owen," he said, and I realized he was talking to his father.
The conversation that followed was muffled, with long pauses where Greyson listened more than spoke. I kept my breathing even, trying not to eavesdrop, but certain words filtered through: "abuse," "I'm sorry," "New York," "the Massas."
When he finally hung up, the silence was deafening.
"You can stop pretending to be asleep," Greyson said softly, not unkindly.
I opened my eyes to find him watching me, something unreadable in his expression.
"I wasn't—" I started, but he cut me off with a gentle smile.
"You were. Your breathing changed the moment my phone rang." He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking tired again. "I have to go to New York in the morning. Family business."
"Okay," I said slowly, sensing there was more he wasn't saying.
"A meeting with the Massas. My father wants me there." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "He's asked me to keep it quiet. Not to mention it to anyone."
Including me. The unspoken words hung in the air between us.
I sat up, pulling the sheet around myself. "So you're leaving in the morning."
"Yes." He reached for me, but I shifted slightly away, needing space to process this sudden shift.
"Grey, we just... you just opened up to me about something incredibly personal,and now you're telling me you have to leave for some secret meeting you can't tell me about?"
"It's not like that," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "This is business. Important business that involves the families. You know I can't discuss that kind of thing, even with you."
"Even after everything we just shared?" The hurt was creeping in now, despite my best efforts to keep it at bay.
"Especially after everything we just shared." He moved closer, cupping my face in his hands. "Cassie, what happened between us tonight was real. What I told you about my past was real. But this? This is about keeping you safe. The less you know about certain aspects of my work, the better."
I wanted to argue, wanted to point out that this felt like another wall being erected between us just when I thought we were finally tearing them down. But looking into his eyes, I saw the truth—he wasn't shutting me out because he didn't trust me. He was protecting me the only way he knew how.
"How long will you be gone?" I asked instead.
"A few days. Maybe a week." His thumb traced my cheekbone gently. "I'll call you when I can."
"When you can," I repeated, the words tasting bitter.
"Cassie, please understand—"
"I do understand," I interrupted, and I meant it. Sort of. "I understand that there are parts of your life, of your work, that I can't be privy to. I understand that sometimes you have to choose duty over... over whatever this is between us."
"This is more than just 'whatever,'" he said firmly. "What we have—it matters to me. You matter to me."
"Just not enough to stay."
The words hung between us, sharper than I'd intended. Greyson flinched as if I'd struck him.
"That's not fair," he said quietly.
"No," I agreed. "It's not. I'm sorry." I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be rational instead of emotional. "When do you need to leave?"
"First thing in the morning. I should probably head home tonight to pack, but..." He glanced down at me, conflict written across his features. "Can I stay? Just for a few more hours?"
How could I say no to that? To the vulnerability in his request, to the need I heard beneath the words?
"Of course you can stay," I said, opening my arms to him.
He pulled me back down into the bed, arranging us so that I was cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped securely around me. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it felt like goodbye.
"I'm sorry," he murmured into my hair. "I'm sorry I have to leave right when we're finally making progress."
"It's okay," I lied, because what else could I say?
"It's not, but thank you for saying it anyway." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "When I get back, we'll figure this out. All of it. I promise."
Promises. How many of those had he made over the years? How many had he been able to keep?
I didn't voice those doubts. Instead, I held him tighter, memorizing the feel of his heartbeat against my back, the weight of his arm across my waist, the warmth of his breath against my neck.
Within minutes, his breathing evened out again, exhaustion finally claiming him. But I stayed awake, staring into the darkness, wondering if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life by falling in love with a man who would always be half in shadow.