Page 162 of Lessons In Grey

I laughed, memorizing his smile, his eyes, his everything. “My Rags.”

He stepped back, letting my hand go to lift his own to either side of him. “Well-dressed and ready to kill. I’ll see you soon, Snowflake.”

I nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around me. “See you soon.”

I held it together until he disappeared around the corner. That’s when my composure failed. That’s when my legs shook so terribly that they gave out.

Jeremy caught me, pulling me back to my feet as I fell into him. “He’s going to be okay,” he said, holding me close. “They know what they’re doing. He’ll be okay.”

I clung onto him, my heart shattering in a million different ways. I understood that this was part of the job, but it fucking hurt like Hell.

42

Emily

January 21st, 2022

It’s been a month.

Since Grey left, I had changed my opinion on learning how to fight, only because it filled up the time.

I started going on runs in the morning with Matthew, shifted to online classes that I took at night, and during the day, Matthew taught me how to fight.

It was painful. I have been sore every day for three weeks, but my body was finally starting to get used to the abuse.

I had given up Redbull and coffee, but I had kept up on my gummy worms, something Jeremy was now addicted to as well.

So addicted that I had to keep my stash in my room so he wouldn’t steal them in the middle of the night.

Yes, Jeremy was now sleeping on my couch. Matthew slept on a cot in the living room, and at night, when everyonewas asleep save for me, a new member had joined the ‘Protect Emily’ squad. Some woman by the name of Gwen.

She sat in a car at night and kept an eye on things while we were supposed to be sleeping.

Things really sucked, they did, but I was getting through it. Although I was starting to feel resentment growing within me about what was happening, and I hated that.

I was always supposed to communicate with him about stuff like this. About things that started affecting us, but how could I? He had only called once since leaving, which I thought I had prepared myself for, but now it was the one-month anniversary of his departure, and here I was, bitter.

I was bitter.

I was angry.

I was sad.

I was resentful.

I pushed around my eggs, staring at his name brought up on my phone. The last text he had sent me had been the night of the Charity Event while I had been getting dressed.

Grey:I can’t wait to see you

I wanted to text him. Tell him that I was having issues, but I had done that already. My list of messages was long. I texted him every single day, and all I had gotten was one phone call.

However terrible it sounded, I hoped that there were stronger women out there than me having these struggles. Was it normal? I felt so secure in our relationship, and it wasn’t as if I thought he was cheating, I knew he wasn’t. I wasn’t insecure about that, but this? This was hard. It wassohard.

Rationally I knew he was busy. Working, sleeping, whatever it was they did, along with the time differences.

Irrationally? Irrationally I wanted to punch him for making me feel as if the relationship wasn’t worth it enough to send a twosecond text.

How hard was it? Just a simple fucking message. Yes, you’re a big bad criminal hunting down a guy you thought was dead that beat the shit out of me but come on. One text?