She could hear the tears in Gray’s voice as he said, “My God Suzy, I don’t know if I can, you’re my heart, my life.”
“Gray,” she gasped out, “please, I can’t hurt like this anymore. If you love me, don’t call me again.” She ended the call before he could reply and the sobs erupted from her throat with such intensity that it was hard to breathe. She curled up into a ball as her world crashed around her. She knew in her heart that she’d never love again. If and when she ever got involved, no part of her heart would ever belong to another. Gray owned it until the day she died, of that she was certain.
Chapter Twenty Three
Monday morning at work found everyone walking around her on eggshells. Claire had already been down to check on her, Ella had dropped by to bring her coffee and hovered like a mother hen, Beth had been eyeing her all morning looking for signs of a break-down and even Jason had been by for small talk. When Nick stuck his head in her office, she blew out a disgusted breath. “Oh geez, do you all think I’m on suicide watch or something? Who’s coming by next to make sure Suzy hasn’t gone off the deep end?”
One thing you had to love about Nick, he wasn’t easily offended. He threw back his head and laughed. “Sorry about that, everyone is just worried about you. Don’t be surprised if Beth hides your letter opener or if your scissors have disappeared. All kidding aside, how’re you holding up kid?”
Suzy had buried the hurt so far inside of her that she was able to keep her expression blank at the obvious concern in Nick’s voice. “I’m fine, really. It’s nice of you all to worry about me, but there is no need. Gray and I were only together for a short time so it’s not as if we were married or anything.”
“Just so you know, I don’t believe a word you’re saying, but I’ll let it be. Do you want to grab a bite to eat after work today or maybe a drink?”
“Thanks Nick, but I’ve got some errands to run this evening. Rain check?”
“Sure, sounds good.” Rising from the chair, Nick looked back at her one last time as if assessing her mood and left.
Just hold it together. Soon they will all tire of asking how you are and leave you alone. Until then, keep your happy face on and don’t let any of them know how close to the edge you are.
~~~
If he didn’t know the route by heart, Gray would probably have never made it. He hadn’t slept in days and was barely hanging on. He parked his car and walked wearily to the front door, fumbling for his key. He was instantly soothed at the familiar sight of his childhood home. His mother walked out of the kitchen and handed him a whisk. “I thought I’d be seeing you soon. I have everything set up waiting, so come on in.”
Gray didn’t need to ask her what she was talking about. Every major problem in his life had been solved with his mother in the kitchen. He’d a feeling that baking a cake couldn’t fix this problem but the routine was a balm to his soul.
True to her word, the kitchen island contained bowls, a mixer and all of the ingredients to make something he could make in his sleep, red velvet cake. It had been a household favorite growing up and he’d grieved lost pets, lost loves, lost games and almost every change of life standing at that very island with a whisk in his hand.
His mother seated herself on a barstool on the other side, while he put on the apron she had left out. As he started measuring out his ingredients and then sifting them together, his mother said quietly, “I’m worried about you, baby boy.”
Looking up at the first woman to claim his heart, he snorted, “I believe Nick is the baby boy in this family, Mom.”
“Gray, you’re my first born and Nicky might be the youngest, but you will both always be my babies. No matter how old you are, how big your job is or how big your troubles are for that matter, it will never change that. “
Their conversation was temporarily interrupted as he turned on the mixer to combine his dry and wet ingredients. All too soon he had his cake batter divided into his cake pans and was placing them in the oven. After he’d cleaned up the island and placed everything in the dishwasher, he came around and pulled out a stool next to his mother. Even though he knew it wouldn’t solve anything, he needed this familiar routine as much as he needed to breathe.
Gray stared straight ahead as he said, “So I’ve really f**ked this up haven’t I?”
“Gray! You know I’m far from a prude, but do we have to use the F-word before lunch-time?”
Gray snickered at his mother’s expression. “Oh, come on, Mom, Dad said you rolled it about at least five times when the dry cleaner ruined your leather jacket last month.”