We don’t talk about it.
We don’t talk about much at all.
By Monday, the house has settled back into its quiet rhythms, and Maddox and Meri have returned to their routines.The one-month mark is only days out, and Blane is already making calls about the memorial.The decision I’ve been itching to pull the trigger on hums beneath my skin, and time is no longer something I get to ignore.
Blane moves about the living room, crouched near the wall next to the armchair, reorganizing gear that’s been packed and unpacked more times than necessary.
“I’ll need a few more minutes to gather the rest of my equipment.”He doesn’t look up as I enter the room.“After the speedway, what do you say about lunch?We’ll be close to Prospect and could check it out.”
He thinks we’re getting more shots of the racetrack, but that was just a ruse to keep him busy until we were alone.
“We won’t be going to the speedway.”I jingle the key in my hand.
He slowly looks up at me.“What do you mean?”
“There’s been a change in plans.I’ve got things covered.”
He straightens, studying me now, head tipped slightly to the side like he’s recalibrating.“You seem… decisive.”
“I am.”
“What’s up?”
I lean back against the edge of the sofa and wait him out.Silence has always made him uncomfortable, and truthfully, a part of me hopes he’s smart enough to put the pieces together on his own.But I already know I’ll have to spell it out for him.
“You know.”He stands and smiles softly, as if trying to rekindle a time when we were close, yet he fails because this feels patronizing.“You can talk to me, Grace.I’ve been doing this a long time.Patterns show themselves.”
“Patterns?”
“People change when they stop pretending they’re unaffected.”
He still gets nothing from me, and this does what I want it to do.Unnerves him.
His gaze sharpens.“There’s a… growing attachment here.Between you and Maddox.”
There it is.
I’m not about to acknowledge that truth or give him any indication he’s on the right track.
“Is that what you think?”
“I think that lines are blurring.Emotions are getting involved, and when that happens, it tends to complicate things.”
“Complicate how?”My tone remains even, almost bored.
He smiles, but it’s thin.“Professionally.Personally.You’re here to tell a story, Grace.Not become one.”
“What are you getting at Blane?”
“I think you know exactly what I mean.”His smile twists.“Toby wouldn’t love hearing about certain… complications.”
I straighten, my voice calm enough to be dangerous.“Don’t think for one second I’d let you even try to smear me with your lies.Try it, and I’ll make sure no one ever believes you again.”
He scoffs, dismissive.“That’s a little extreme.”
“Maybe.”
“Like you even could.Come on, Grace, what is this?All I’m trying to say is if Toby were to get wind of this?—”