Page 120 of On the Breakaway

I savor every single bite, dragging out the silence mostly because it really is too good to rush, but also because eating delays the conversation that’s to come.

Three hours ago, I was committed to spending my evening alone while pretending I wasn’t avoiding every single person who cared about me. But now, I’m sitting across from Grayson at my kitchen island, staring down into my bowl while steam curls into the air between us.

The conversation has died out.

I know he’s waiting for me to talk. To tell him why I close myself off from everyone. But shutting down is so carved into me, I’m not sure where to start.

He thinks it’s all Damon, but it’s not. It’s my parents. And Damon. And the fact that relying too much on someone else for happiness always seems to lead to a pain that I’ve felt too many times.

So yeah, how the hell am I supposed to explain that out loud to a man whose parents are happily married and living a life he dreams of?

I can feel his eyes on me. Never for long. Just quick glances in between his bites of soup while pretending that he has all the time in the world.

He’s giving me space, but it’s really just pissing me off.

Normal people would push. They’d ask their questions and fill the silence because silence makes people uncomfortable. But Grayson seems content to wait for me to trust him, however long that takes.

It’s making this more confusing.

He’d shown up tonight, furious that I was avoiding him, only to drop it all when he realized I’m upset. There was no guilt trip or accusation. Instead, he’s acting as if my feelings matter more than his. It’s such a foreign concept that I don’t know what to make of it.

I push a noodle around my bowl. Then a carrot. Then the celery.

“You know,” I say finally, still staring down at the soup, “I liked it better when I thought you were an asshole.”

Across from me, Grayson snorts.

"I hadn’t realized you changed your opinion of me.”

I point my spoon at him. “If you were a jerk, I could just tell you to leave.”

“You already told me to leave.”

“Clearly, it didn’t take.”

His mouth twitches, and he falls silent again.

I let out a long breath before setting my spoon down. The metal clicks against the bowl.

“My parents loved Damon.”

I don’t realize what I’ve said until it’s out of my mouth.

I guess that’s where we’re starting.

“I met him about two years ago. We started dating pretty quickly after that, and once they met him, they decided he was perfect. He was the captain of an NHL team. He was polite. He was charming and managed to feign interest in any topic they brought up.”

I laugh softly, but there’s nothing funny about it.

“My mother used to introduce him to people before she introduced me. I used to think their opinion mattered. But truthfully, they wouldn’t know a single thing about a healthy relationship.”

Something flashes across Grayson’s face.

I keep talking before I lose my nerve.

“My parents hate each other and have for as long as I can remember. They divorced when I was ten, but still spend every day finding new ways to hurt each other.”

I swallow.