Beyond What is Given

Even now, as I rounded the staircase to the ground floor, every cell in my body screamed out for Sam, to hear her voice, her laugh, feel her heartbeat under the palm of my hand. But eight floors up, Grace was awake, the answer to every prayer, blissfully unaware that I’d fallen in love with another woman while she’d been unable to put up a fight. Grace, who’d been my best friend since we could walk. Grace, who’d always been my future until that night. Grace, who needed me.

I burst through the doors on the ground floor and didn’t stop until I was outside the hospital. The air hit my face, and I took gulping breaths to calm my racing heart. Saliva filled my mouth, and my stomach rebelled. I made it to the bushes before I vomited, bringing up everything I’d eaten and then heaving nothingness.

“Oh, Gray.” Mom’s hands patted my back like I was eleven with the stomach flu.

I took the bottle of water she held out for me, swished out the sour taste of bile, and spit. She took my arm and led me to the bench that rested inside the gazebo, where we sat side-by-side in silence until I was ready to speak.

“Grace is awake.”

“Yes.” She squeezed my hand.

“I’m in love with Sam.” The words, spoken aloud, sent a bittersweet feeling through me that radiated from my heart to my limbs until I swore my fingers tingled. I thought the first time I said them would be freeing.

I thought the first time I said them would be to Samantha.

“I know.”

“I haven’t told her. I was scared that if I said something, let myself really love her, plan a life with her, something would happen. I’d lose her…like I lost Grace. I’ve been paying for that night for five years, and Sam is the first really good thing to happen to me. But maybe she’s the price?” My stomach rolled again, and I leaned over, resting my forehead on my fists. “Maybe God, fate, irony, whatever…maybe it needed this last ounce of pain it could wring from me, and I deserve it. I do. But Sam doesn’t. Grace doesn’t.”

“Look at me.” Her voice was sharp, and I raised my eyes to her. “You did not deserve this. You were not responsible for what happened to Grace. You saved her life. You were not responsible for Owen driving that night. None of what’s happening is your fault. You cannot carry the burdens of this world on your shoulders. Even you are not that strong.”

But it had been my fault. I knew he was too drunk to drive. I hadn’t taken the keys. “What am I going to do? No matter what I choose, someone gets hurt.”

“You’re going to let some of this blame go, Gray. You’re going to spend this weekend with Grace, and you’re going to go home to Sam. And then you’re going to figure out what you want your life to look like now that Grace is in it again. Oh, and you’re going to come home with me while Grace is sleeping. I need your help rearranging some furniture.”

I knew she made that up to distract me, get me out of the hospital for long enough to clear my head. “Furniture, huh?”

She gave me a mock-innocent face. “I pay in brownies.”

“Deal.”



“Thank you for this,” Grace whispered, her head resting on my shoulder as we looked out over the ocean from the front seat of my Mustang. If you’d asked me about five-and-a-half years ago where I’d see myself now…well, this was it.

“You get five more minutes before we have to head back. They’ll notice you’re missing and send the cavalry to find you.”

She wound her fingers through mine. “And you have a plane to catch.”

“Yes.” I looked down to our intertwined fingers. What was once effortless felt a fraction off, like a puzzle piece that had warped in water.

“Are you happy there? In Alabama?”

My chest tightened, picturing Sam’s smile, the feel of her wrapped around me in the morning because she didn’t understand that it was possible to share the bed without acting as a blanket. “Yes.”

“I’m scared. Five years, Gray. What am I supposed to do with myself? The whole world kept spinning while I was paused.”

Rebecca Yarros's books