Nothing But This (Broken Pieces 2)

Ha! As if a control freak like Greyson would be content with being just a figurehead. Tina would be lucky if she returned and found her restaurant still recognizable after leaving him in charge.

“Does it have to be Greyson?” Libby asked, knowing she sounded petty, but really . . . yeah, she felt petty. Especially after Greyson’s revelations that morning.

“It won’t be for long, a few days max.”

“If you must. But you tell him to keep his nose out of my kitchen.”

“I’ll do that.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Day after tomorrow.” That was on Sunday. She’d have to endure a “possibly volatile” conversation with Greyson before seeing him all day, every day, for goodness knew how long. Tina wasn’t being very forthcoming about the exact length of her absence.

But Libby knew her friend still had a lot of personal business to settle back in Cape Town. Not only with Harris but with her parents and brothers as well.

“You do what you have to do, Tina,” Libby said, offering the other woman an encouraging smile. “MJ’s will be fine.”

“I don’t know why you decided to drive,” Greyson grumbled as he loaded Tina’s heavy bag into her car early on Sunday morning. “Flying would be safer and faster.”

“I like the drive, and it’ll give me time to think.”

“Less thinking and more concentrating on the road, okay?”

“I’ll drive safely,” she promised.

“No speeding.”

“That’s generally what driving safely means, Greyson. You’re turning into a mother hen,” she teased him, and Greyson smiled. He couldn’t recall being teased much before. But Mar—Tina—had started doing so regularly. He quite enjoyed it, even though he had no idea how to tease her back. That had always been his problem. He didn’t know how to relax and be comfortable around others.

With Olivia, at the start of their relationship in London, he had felt a sense of belonging. He had been able to relax and laugh with her. But when they had returned to South Africa, she and Harris had immediately fallen into their old, easy friendship. Greyson hadn’t been able to see a place for himself within that dynamic. And it had been isolating.

“Well then, drive safely. Take regular breaks in safe locations, and text me when you do.”

“Why? So that you can check up on me?”

“That. And so that I won’t worry.”

Her face softened, and she nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” He patted her shoulder awkwardly. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

“Silly,” she chided before stepping into his arms for a hug. Greyson stared down at the top of her head before closing his own arms around her comfortable frame. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Caring.”

She stepped out of his arms and smiled at him, her expression tinged with sadness. “Libby told me you guys are having lunch today?”

“I’m going to tell her everything.”

“She’s going to be angry and hurt . . . but think of it as fresh blood draining the pus out of a festering wound.”

“That’s”—he wrinkled his nose—“truly disgusting, Tina.”

“Yet apt. It’ll be fine, Greyson.”

“I’m afraid of losing her.” It was the most revealing thing he had ever said to anyone. It was more than he’d even admitted to himself.

“Greyson, you’ve lost her already,” Tina said gently. “What you need to focus on is winning her back. And that means being completely honest with her. At the risk of sounding like a total cliché, you have nothing to lose . . . but everything to gain.”

She shook her head and laughed. The sound was short and loud and lacked any semblance of humor. “Look at me, doling out advice like some love guru when I can barely get my own shit together.”

“I appreciate your insight,” Greyson muttered.

“Do with it what you will. I’d better head off; I want to avoid the church traffic.”

“Is that an actual thing?”

“It is in Riversend,” Tina replied. “There are, like, three churches here. And the mosque.”

She gave him an airy wave and climbed into her car. Greyson waved her off before turning to go inside. He paused and stared at the ramshackle old split house for a moment. He’d had every intention of moving out after he’d first arrived, but when Harris had asked him to keep an eye on Tina, Greyson had shelved the idea . . . and this horrid, small, grubby place had started to feel like home. Something he hadn’t imagined possible a mere six weeks ago.

He wouldn’t want to permanently stay here, but he didn’t mind it as much anymore. But with both Harris and Tina now gone, he felt a pang of melancholy and loneliness.

He trudged back inside, sank onto the sofa, and brought up his adult coloring app to kill time until lunch.

An hour before he had to leave for lunch, he set aside his phone, having colored his way through three pictures in the interim. He showered, shaved, and carefully considered what he wanted to wear for this meeting.