Chapter 18: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN- I MISS HER!

~GREY’S POV~

Twelve days. That was how long it had been since I last saw my wife. Twelve long, dragging days that felt like a punishment. I had hoped everything would be wrapped up in just two. Two days, that was all I asked for. Instead, the contracts stretched out, keeping me trapped here like a man chained by invisible ropes.

I stepped out of the room I had been forced to stay in, the same four walls that had pressed down on me until I thought I would suffocate. The air outside felt different, lighter, though it carried the same weight of waiting. The hotel pool lay before me, empty, still. I was thankful for that small mercy. No noise, no crowd. Just silence. At least here, I could breathe without feeling someone’s eyes on me.

I pulled my phone closer to my ear, pressing it tightly as if that could force her voice through the line faster. It rang once, twice, again, and again. The sound filled the quiet space around me, cruel in its repetition. She wasn’t answering. She hadn’t answered before, and now again, the silence on her end dug into me.

My jaw clenched, the ache in my chest growing with every passing second. I swallowed hard, the taste of frustration bitter on my tongue.

“Pick up, Mira,” I muttered under my breath, almost a plea, though no one but me could hear it. The rings kept going, and she remained out of reach.

She had told me she’d spend the weekend at Lisa’s again. Second time in two weeks. Today was Sunday. Maybe she was still there. I hoped by tomorrow I’d be out of this place and back home.

Even though our phone calls were short, I called often. Maybe too often. I missed her. She must miss me too, or why else would she run off to her friend’s house so much?

I shrugged off my robe and dipped my feet into the cool water. A shiver ran through me. After a few minutes of unanswered calls, I dived in.

Stroke after stroke, I forced my body across the pool, lungs burning, thoughts replaying the meeting. Had I said the right words? Done the right thing? The approval call should have come already.

By the time I pulled myself out, water was running down my skin, my phone lit up.

Mira.

A smile spread across my face before I forced it down. She didn’t love me. I couldn’t let myself forget that.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing a towel and drying my hair.

“Hi.” Her voice was soft, but I heard the hesitation.

I switched to video. I’d promised her a tour of my room. “Are you ready?”

Her face filled the screen. Dark circles gone. Hair in two plaits. Resting her chin on her hand like she had all the time in the world. God, I missed her.

“This is my room.” I turned the camera, showing the furniture, the balcony, the desk I barely used.

She nodded. “Nice.”

I stopped at the mirror, turned the camera so she could see my reflection. “What do you think?”

Her eyes lingered. “Cool.” She bit her lip. She wanted to say more, but she didn’t.

“When are you coming home?” she asked.

Home. The word from her lips hit me harder than the cold pool water had. I wanted to say tomorrow, but I’d said Friday before and that hadn’t happened. No more promises I couldn’t keep.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

Her lips pressed into a small smile. I could see the disappointment she tried to hide.

“Are you missing me?” I asked, meaning it as a joke, but the words came out heavier.

She didn’t laugh. Her eyes held mine through the screen. “Yes, Grey, I’m missing my husband.”

My chest tightened. I swallowed, trying to mask the rush of warmth in me. “You are?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” She rolled onto her back, her braids spilling over the pillow. “I’m used to you being around, and now it feels too quiet.”

“Quiet?” I smirked. “I thought you liked your peace.”

“I do. But not this kind. Not the kind where I keep checking the door expecting you to walk in.”

Her words sank into me. For the first time in days, I felt grounded.

“I’m glad,” I said softly. “Because it’s killing me being here.”

“Work?” she asked.

I nodded. “The contracts are almost final, but it’s dragging. I should be home already.”

“You always say that,” she whispered.

I froze. She wasn’t wrong. I’d said it too many times.

“Mira, I mean it. I want to be with you.”

Her gaze searched through me from the screen. “Then why do I feel like you’re drifting further away?”

The words hit me harder than I expected. I sat on the bed, the towel slipping from my shoulders. “Because I’m not there to prove otherwise.”

Silence stretched between us. She shifted on the bed, her eyes softening. “Show me something else then.”

“Something else?”

“Yeah. Something real. Not the hotel walls.”

I hesitated, then flipped the camera. She could see me in the mirror again, droplets of water still clinging to my skin. “Is this real enough?” I asked.

Her lips curved faintly. “You look tired.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said dryly.

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Her voice softened. “I mean… you’re carrying too much again.”

She always saw through me. Always. “I’ll be fine once I’m home.”

“You’d better be.” She rested her cheek on the pillow, her voice dropping. “Because I don’t like missing you.”

Something in me cracked then. “Mira, I…”

Her phone buzzed. She glanced away.

“Lisa,” she explained, lifting the screen slightly.

Of course. Always Lisa.

“You can pick up,” I said, masking the sting in my chest.

“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll call her later.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’m talking to my husband.”

The word again, husband. It rolled through me like a promise I hadn’t expected.

“Say that again,” I murmured.

She frowned. “What?”

“Husband.”

Her cheeks warmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Say it anyway.”

She sighed but smiled. “My husband.”

I leaned back, letting the sound of it steady me. “That’s better.”

Her laugh was quiet but real. For a while, neither of us spoke. We just stared at each other through the screens, like if we looked long enough, the distance would collapse.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Grey?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me something.”

My stomach tightened. Promises were dangerous. “What is it?”

“Don’t shut me out. Even if this takes longer. Even if you’re stressed. Just… don’t.”

I exhaled. “I won’t. Not again.”

“You’ve said that before,” she whispered.

“And I mean it now.” I leaned closer to the camera. “I miss you, Mira. More than I can put into words.”

Her eyes glistened. “Then come home soon.”

“I will,” I said, meaning it with everything in me.

She nodded, then yawned softly. “I should sleep.”

“Stay a little longer,” I said quickly.

Her smile was tired. “You’ll see me tomorrow. Right?”

I hesitated. “I’ll try.”

“Try harder.”

We ended the call reluctantly. I stared at the blank screen long after, the echo of her words still in my chest. She missed me. She called me her husband.

Maybe, just maybe, I still had a chance to make her love me.