“I’m trying to protect her,” my mother says. "Parker isn't easily deterred. I just want Bristol to understand what she’s giving up having this . . . affair with you.”
“Affair?” Grip glowers. “I’ve been in love with your daughter for a long time. For years. I didn’t wait this long so we could have some affair, as you call it.”
“Oh, and you’re serious about Bristol.” My mother rolls her eyes. “Because of you, my daughter is the butt of jokes. The names she’s being called. The way people are talking about her. It’s beneath her.”
She doesn’t say it, but her eyes do.
You’re beneath her.
“Mother, I have put up with your shit for a long time.” My voice vibrates with the anger overtaking every inch of me. “I can take it. I have taken it. I’ve listened to you tell me that I’m not as talented as Rhyson. You’ve made me feel worthless.”
“I’ve never—”
“Yes, you always have, but no more. I’m in love with Grip. Not only do I want to be with him, I’m proud to be with him. And anyone who doesn’t like it, that goes for you and any idiots hiding behind their Instagram posts or trolling Twitter, can go to hell.”
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I turn to leave the room, and am at the door when Grip’s words stop me.
“Mrs. Gray,” he says softly. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you over the years, and I can’t say much of it has been good.”
“Excuse me?” Mother’s indignation blares in the two words.
“You have an awful relationship with Rhyson, and from what I can tell, it’s just as bad with Bristol. The only difference is she stayed and he left.”
“You don’t know anything about our family, Marlon.”
“Actually, I do. Your son and I have been best friends for over fifteen years.” He pauses. “And I’m going to marry your daughter one day.”
I swing around, my chin dropped to my chest, shock trilling through me.
“Not today,” he goes on like he didn’t just topsy-turvy my world. “Not tomorrow. We’ll know when the time is right. That isn’t my point. My point is despite all the evidence to the contrary, I think you love your daughter very much.”
“I do.” Mother’s bottom lip quivers before she pulls it back into the disciplined line I’m accustomed to. “I’m only trying to protect her.”
“You’re trying to control her,” Grip counters. “You tried to control Rhyson, and you lost him. If you don’t want to lose Bristol, don’t make her choose between us, or you’ll lose her, too.”
She and Grip stare at one another for elongated seconds, reading one another. My mother reads people like a polygraph. She smells lies and eats their weaknesses. They don’t make peace. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mother make peace with anyone, but I think they understand each other. But who knows because she walks toward me, giving me a brief look, and then sweeps into the hall and out the door.
Very rarely am I speechless, but I don’t know which words are the right ones. I know Grip loves me, but I can honestly say I haven’t seriously thought about marriage. That’s crazy, I know. Marriage is not the end all, be all to me. Rhys and Kai are rare. Happy marriages are rare from my experience. My parents’ marriage is an unnatural disaster, a lame horse that should have been put down years ago, and yet it keeps limping on.
Grip walks over to me and lifts my chin, his eyes scanning my face.
“Breathe.” A small smile tilts one corner of his mouth, but serious eyes search mine.
I draw a deep breath in and exhale long and slow. He’s right. I think I’ve been holding my breath since I heard the word “marry.”
“I didn’t say tonight.” He cups my face. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. That was the worst way to bring it up. I just . . . I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”
“No, of course not.” My voice comes out from whatever rock it was hiding under. “I see nothing but you in the future. No one but you. You know that.”
“Then don’t freak out on me.”
“I guess I . . . we just haven’t talked about it, and we haven’t been together long and—”
He presses a finger to my lips. “Bris, it’s okay.”
“I guess I just didn’t know what to say.”