Page 67 of Saving Grace

I nodded. The moment was too deep to not lie in.. I couldn’t bring myself to bust his bubble.

He cradled the back of my head in his palm, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

"I don’t believe you Grace. I don’t believe you have an ounce of faith in me.” He paused and cupped my face, ran his thumb down my cheek so softly I wanted cry.

“I will fix us, Grace.” He declared before he pushed himself up to his feet and took a step back.

He gave me one final look, pleading with his eyes for me to believe in him, in us, before walking away and out of the gym, leaving me feeling tender all over.

Grace

I thought Atticus and I had turned a corner. It had been almost two weeks since the night of his wedding anniversary planning dinner. He’d become nicer, a more gentler him, maybe not nicer, just no more outright hostility.

He’d stopped asking about the phone calls and had stopped the revenge fucks. No more dick sucking under the desk. We were still having sex all the time though. He still had it in his head that I owed him a baby, but thank God my body didn’t seem to agree.

His wife and grandfather had been around less which was always a plus in my book.

But then, bam. The world shifted again.

He insisted I attend his wedding anniversary dinner, not caring how awkward it would be for me, his family, or his wife. I imagined on the ride there how he would introduce me. He would say something like “Hey in laws, this is my childhood friend and baby momma, the one I fuck to sleep every night, the one I practically kidnapped. I hope I’m not imposing by bringing her.” Then he'd give them one of his I dare you to say something glares. And when they didn't, all would be right in the world.

I chuckled under my breath. The entire situation was as funny as it was sad. My bodyguard glanced back at me. I gave him a fake smile then rolled my eyes at his back when he turned around.

Any other time I would have stopped and admired the magnificent hotel Roman’s little shindig was being held at, but I couldn’t, all I could focus on was the dread sitting in the pit of my stomach. The closer we got to the ballroom, the more I dragged my feet. Not even the red strapless floor length dress that hugged my curves, but also somehow managed to hide all my imperfections raised my spirits. Who would have thunk it, I was a girl from Moss Point Mississippi with thousand-dollar Manolo Blahnik’s on my feet surrounded by rich, beautiful, and power people and I’d rather be home?.

The party was already in full swing. Hundreds of people milled around, some danced. Some drank. And some were seated eating expensive fish or steak.

Without trying my eyes found Atticus. He and Sophia sat side by side looking like the ideal couple, in all white, Sophia’s dress, an off the shoulder mermaid with crystals was stunning, she looked beautiful. Her Black hair against all the white a starling contrast.

Atticus’ Brioni suit fit him as if Nazareno himself had custom made it for him. They were both smiling with all their teeth. if I didn’t know better, I’d think they were happy. The jealous, covetous person in me low key reveled in the fact that they aren’t.

Sighing I forced my eyes away from the smiling couple.

Their immediate family was sitting on either side of them. The chair besides Atticus, where I knew his grandfather should be sat empty.

I found myself searching the room for him. Being in the immediate proximity of that slimy man always made my skin crawl and I hoped I was seated as far away from him as possible.

"Right this way ma’am.” The big talking tree who was there to make sure I didn’t run away instructed me. Held out his hand to let me walk past him.

My eyes landed on a chair at the end of the table that was empty.

He wouldn’t.

The bodyguard was trying to direct me to towards the front. I refused. My eyes were glued to Atticus. He was so disrespectful, but I wouldn't be. I tried to make it clear to him that there was no way in hell I was joining his family at that fucking table. The only familial connection that Atticus, or should I say this man Roman shared with me was AJ and he wasn’t here. We communicated through head nods and hand gestures—nobody at the moment seemed to notice. The open bar had everybody relaxed.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. Feeling myself become angrier. Atticus made the move to stand from his seat.

This motherfucker.

I knew then I had no choice. I wasn’t about to let him embarrass me in a room full of white people. I was already sure Sophia had given them all the sordid details of our very public affair but out of fear of Roman— I knew no one would say anything to me.

I stomped past the guard and made my way to the front of the room—to the empty chair Atticus insisted I sit in. Flopping down I focused on everything but the people at the table.

God! How was I going to survive the entire night?

Immediately after sitting down a glass of champagne was set in front of me, I downed it. It tickled the back of my throat and burned my nose. I hated the taste of it. I reached up and grabbed the waiter’s arm as he was walking away. I took two more glasses from his tray.

I could feel Roman’s eyes burning a hole in the side of my head. I ignored him and proceeded to try and get wasted. Maybe it would ease my emotional stress. I felt like I would throw up from all the anxiety that was tightening my chest.