ROANNE.
"What is wrong with you?" I ask, turning around to face him. Not caring that he can see
my tears. RIP my make-up at this point.
"Would you listen to me?"
"Not that I'm interested, but do you want to rekindle what we had?" I ask and I know it
comes as a shock, because he freezes, but then he never recovers. Doesn't reply, doesn't
say anything. He just stares. "That's what I thought. So what's the point of what we're
doing then?"
"Roanne."
"You realise that's all you've been doing right? Calling my name." I say, and he frowns.
"Would you listen to me? Let's have a sit over there and talk."
God, I hate how cold his voice is. He says he's sorry, but he doesn't even sound sorry. Or
look sorry.
"Alright" Only for the sake of God, I let him lead me to a chair and we sit.
"I was never interested in what my parents did, or my grandfather. I cared about them
and so I was aware of it all, but I didn't lie to you when I said I loved painting, because I
do. I have a few other pieces apart from the one you saw me do. It's what I've always
loved and my mum got me a great agent, so I get some good money from sales. I was
content with what I had. I came to America to get some rest from all the pressure. My
father and aunt are overwhelming sometimes and I guess I just wanted a break from it
all. Then, I met you. And you weren't just the most beautiful person I'd ever met, you
intrigued me, more and more each day. And I won't lie and say I didn't go into it just
wanting some fresh air, but it became much more over time."
I look away from his intense eyes.
"So then why did you leave? And what about the other girls?"
"That's-"
"-Grayson" Jameson walks in. His eyes go from Grayson to me and to our hands. I remove
my hands from his immediately. "I've been looking for you. Your aunt says to join her in
the auction room."
"Ah. Would she-"
"-She's not in the best of moods" Jameson interrupts and Grayson turns to look at me.
Apology written all over his features.
"It's fine. I was leaving anyway." I stand again.
"Let's talk later."
"Well, I'm not the one who blocked me."
"I didn't. My phone fell when I was boarding the plane, and I lost my sim somehow."
"You know my number, Grayson." I say, hoping he hears the accusation in my tone. It's a
relief that he didn't block me, but he knows my phone number by heart. If he changed
phones, he could have punched it in, and called. If he wanted to, he would have. "You
knew it then and you still do." I say and his mouth opens like he wants to say something,
but then it shuts and he nods, his jaw flexing like he's angry, then he walks away, after
whispering something in Jameson's ear.
Not once looking back.
"So you're the reason he disappeared for a year." Jameson says, coming closer to me
when Grayson leaves. His tone is playful, but I don't miss the hint sharpness laced in.
"Got a problem with that?" I ask and he stops when he's just in front of me. He looks
down at me and his eyes scan my face, stopping at my lips before coming back up to
meet my eyes.
"You're beautiful" He whispers and it makes me marvel. How good some men are at
staring at you like you really are the most beautiful thing they've ever seen.
I take a step back, and he straightens up.
"Grayson is my best buddy. He tells me everything, but somehow he forgot to mention
you."
That hurts more than I want it to. That I wasn't even worthy of being spoken about to his
bestfriend. I'm sure Jameson didn't expect it to hurt though. If anything, he sounds a bit
hurt.
"Not my fault. And in my defence, I didn't know he was..." I trail off, searching for the
right words.
"A British Billionaire?"
"Well, I definitely knew he was british"
"Anyways, that explains it, then. No one can usually resist my charms for that long" He
says and I scoff.
"We're not together. Not anymore, anyways" I say, hugging myself and I don't know what
he sees in my eyes, but he steps back and smiles, softly.
"Do you want me to tell you why I think he left?"
I stare at him, puzzled and he scratches his neck.
"I might have heard a bit of the conversation. Just a bit though"
"Right"
"So?"
"No. I honestly didn't want to hear anything, because I don't think there's a sufficient
reason."
"So you'd never forgive him? You're just going to leave?"
"I don't know, Jameson." I look away from his stupidly intense eyes, missing the time
when they were just playful and I stare at the empty room.
"He's a good guy"
"Of course he is" I say, and I just walk away.
He follows me, of course he does.
"Where are you going?"
"Home"
"Where's home?" He asks as I keep walking. My heels are hurting my feet already.
"None of your business. Just leave me alone, Jameson."
"Well, I can't"
I scoff and keep walking. Trying to remember what turn I made last. The place is huge.
"Where's home?"
"Go. Away!" I yell, walking faster.
"I will! I just need to know where your home is."
I stop, turn and flail my hands in the hair.
"Home! Home is on a cab out of this stupid place. Home is on a flight, out of this damn
country. Home is at my apartment, on my bed. And for all I know, home could be on a
dessert in Australia. Anywhere. Anywhere that's not here, not in front of you, and
definitely not where Grayson is!" I yell, my lips quivering furiously. My eyes hurt from so
much crying and there's only so much water water-proof make up can take. I'm sure I
look like a melted chocolate iced cream.
I take advantage of Jameson's shock and run out of there. Not bothering with the
elevator ad I run down the stairs.
I bring out my phone and order a ride, crying in a corner as I wait. When it gets here, I
enter the car, close the door and we drive off. Now, I agree with Cassie. I should have just
booked the flight to Seattle when she told me to.
Would have saved me all these stress. My phone buzzes in my purse as I get down from
the car. It keeps buzzing when I use the elevator and when I enter my hotel room. It
keeps buzzing while I undress and enter the bathroom. Washing off all my make-up.
Washing off all the glitter from my dress -as much as I can.
It's only when I'm dressed in my pajamas that I pick up my phone. It's an unknown
number. About 12 missed calls. It could be Grayson. I check and find texts from the
number.
Hey. It's Jameson.
Well.
Please pick up.
Grayson wants to kill me rn, you know.
I was supposed to take you home.
Roanne.
Roooaaneee
Heyyyy. Pick up the phone please.
I won't call you again, okay?
So just reply my texts
He comes back after 10 minutes.
Grayson is breaking stuff rn.
He comes back after 1 minute this time.
Okay, he wasn't. But, he will very soon.
He just yelled at me.
I took your number from his phone by the way, so he doesn't know.
He's blaming me!
I didn't want to come between you two, but Grayson is really a good guy. Whatever
happened, I promise you, it had to.
That makes me scoff, and I'm about to put away my phone when a new texts comes in.
Hey!
You've viewed the texts!
Snubbing is a very very repulsive habit, Jacobs.
*sigh
At least tell me you're fine. You don't have to use your word, just send a cupcake.
I sigh and send a cupcake emoji.
My phone rings immediately and I pick it on the third ring.
"Roanne!" Jameson's voice fills my ears.
"She picked?" I hear Grayson ask him in the background.
"Roanne. Are you there?" Jameson asks.
"What? Are you expecting someone else?" I ask, and Jameson chuckles.
"Very mean of you to view my texts and not reply. You could have just picked up the
phone, you know?"
"I'm gonna hang up"
"No! Don't hang u-"
I hear some shuffling, and then a hard breath and then.
"Roanne" His voice comes in and does things to me I wish it wouldn't. I hate how I find
myself trained on his voice, ready to accept whatever he's going to say. "I got a call from
my mother. Telling me that my grandfather died, and I couldn't think clearly. I saw it
coming. They treated me as the heir apparent anyways. So, I knew I wasn't just going to
be flying back to London for my grandfather's funeral. I knew he was going to pull
something like this. You know what he left to me. I know you do. And I just-"
"-didn't see me in your actual life. You thought I couldn't handle all the glitter and glam.
Or worse, you thought I'd change. You thought I'd only love you because you now had
tons of money. You thought I'd become a leech."
"No. God, no. Roanne. No. Don't put words in my mouth, I would never think that of you.
What we had-"
"-How about we don't talk about what we had, and focus on why. You've told me why you
left, you've told me why you went off the grid for 3 days, but what you haven't told me is
why you broke up with me. I understand why it had to be done over text – only to an
extent, but I don't understand why it had to happen at all, Grayson. You were-" I stop
myself. He doesn't need to be hearing how much he means to me right now. He doesn't
deserve to know that.
He's quiet for a while, and then he lets out a very pathetic sigh.
"I'm sorry"
I stay quiet. Waiting for him to say more. Because he hasn't answered my question. He
knows he hasn't. He stays quiet too, and it breaks my heart even harder. Can't he see
through what I'm doing? I'm stretching a hand to him, waiting for him to take it, pull me
closer, hold me. When I should be running away, because clearly he comes with a lot of
baggage and complications, and frankly I'm not even sure I can handle all the glitter and
glam.
"That's all you're going to say?" I stretch a hand further, but he remains silent, and I flex
my jaw as anger and hurt swim through my veins. "Don't text me again and don't call
either, or I swear, I will change my number. You know I would" I say and hang up.
And I don't cry. I don't have it in me to shed any more tears for that man. I don't have it
in me to feel anymore. People meet, people date, people fall in love. And then people
break up, people lose people. People lose love. It's nothing new. Nothing I haven't felt
before. Nothing I haven't read about or watched before.
So, I'll just focus on forgiving, forgetting, and healing.
That's the thought that takes me to bed, and the thought that wakes me up. It's still on
my mind when I board the plane. Still in my head when I land in Seattle hours later.
I go straight to Church, because it's the only place that's capable of calming the storm in
my heart right now.
GRAYSON
"Grayson. Are you even listening to me?" My aunt snaps her fingers and I zone back in.
"I am"
"What did I say last?"
"Are you even listening to me?" I say, and she rolls her eyes. I stare into her blue eyes.
Searching for something I know isn't there. I've always wondered why she wears blue
contact lenses. Her eyes are naturally grey. Like my grandfather's, and I always thought it
was one of his best features. So it surprises me that she hates it so much, she's always on
contact lenses.
That's not what I'm not looking for though. Hurt. Pain. Any feeling at all. I end up short.
It's like she's an empty hole. No feeling, nothing. The closest she ever comes to feeling is
anger. That's all. That's it.
"I'm not joking around" She replies and I sigh.
"Just go on" I'd rather be anywhere but here.
"Are you thinking about that girl again?" My hands immediately form a fist. I hate when
she talks about Roanne. I hate how much scorn her tone is filled with. "You need to get
over this. We cannot let Gretzel know that you ran away from home for a girl-"
"For the thousandth time, aunt. I did not run away from home. I'm a full grown man. I
can up and leave whenever I want to. And she's not a girl. She's a woman."
She rolls her eyes. Looking nothing short of bored.
"You're what? 28, Grayson. She's 22-"
"-24. And stop stalking her. Do you really have nothing to do?"
"That's still young. But that's besides the point. My point is do not let Gretzel catch any
of this sappiness on your face"
"Sappi-" I scoff. She's impossible. "I'm leaving" I get up.
"Walk away if you want. But don't forget you have dinner with Dr. Kingsley tonight. This
is very important"
"I don't need you to tell me what's important, aunt. I'm not that 17 year old boy
anymore." I grit out and her eyes soften for just a second, before they harden.
"Well, I tend to forget that. You and him are so much alike."
She knew what that would do to me. She knew how bad that would hurt. But she said it
anyway. Because that's who my aunt is. The moment you start to get to her, she snipes.
And I'm used to it, but it still hurts.
"See you in Church" She gets up. "And for the record, nephew. I'm not jobless. Your pesky
little girl is just so easy to watch" She says and walks away. Because, she always has to be
the one to walk away.
I'm so angry, I want to punch the wall. She knows all my weaknesses. She knows where
to bite. Knows what and where will hurt the most. She knows me too well. And I hate
that she does.
My mum appears and I know she listened in on the conversation.
"What do you think of Dr. Kingsley?" She asks.
I almost scoff out loud. My mum is the woman I love the most in the whole world, but
sometimes she hurts me so much. My mum is not like my aunt. In that, where my aunt is
fire, my mum is air; not strong enough to quench the heat left in my aunt's wake, but
present enough to cause some relief.
Where my aunt is a force, my mum is a wallpaper. It hurts to think about, but somehow
over the years, my dad and aunt have reduced her to nothing but a beautiful artefact.
Hanging on my dad's arm when she must, and appeasing my aunt when she must. Which
to her, is always.
My dad loves her, I know he does. But he's controlling and she's completely submissive. I
thought it was normal when I was younger, but now I'm grown enough to know that it's
not. It's killing her. She can't speak for herself, so she can't speak for me either. Not that I
want her to, but sometimes, I need her to.
To some, I may sound like a coward, but I'm just a guy. A guy who sometimes wishes his
mother could be a mom. Like now, I wish she would tell me we're not the same. I wish
she would look me in the eyes, hold my hand and tell me I'm not the Grayson I was at 17.
Even if she doesn't know him. Not as well as my aunt does anyway.
But her eyes remain on my tie and if she wants to talk about Dr. Kingsley. So be it.
"I think he's okay. Definitely seems fit for the job. I'll say more when I meet him."
My grandfather gave me ownership of the Steel and Law firms, but I decided to only
formally become the CEO of the Law firm. Law was my major in college anyway. That,
and I need to right so many wrongs. Open a lot of cupboards and a unveil a lot of
skeletons. I need to see for myself if what they say about my grandfather is true.
And to do that, I'd need to appoint someone else as CEO of Steel firms while I retain my
position as Chairman. My aunt suggested Dr. Kingsley and he is competent, but I won't
be choosing him. I don't want anyone connected to her. Everyone she comes in contact
with becomes a pawn on her chess board. Because that's all this is to her. A game. A
game she wants to win. And I know she hates my grandfather, and while I don't know or
care to know why, hurting his companies would mean hurting our entire family, so I
cannot let her win.
I don't tell my mother that though. Though I think she suspects, because she adjusts my
tie, a tight smile on her lips.
"Your aunt knows what's best. I know her manner of delivery isn't the best sometimes,
but she makes all the best decisions."
Ah yes. I forgot to mention that one. My aunt does nothing wrong in my mother's eyes. I
sigh and walk away, feeling her eyes on my back. Like there's something she wants to
say, something on the tip of her tongue.
I just wish she'd finally say it.