Sundered

Vic’s words echoed in my mind as I left her condo. She told me to stay away from Grayson, but the thought of confronting him was too strong to ignore. That evening, I found myself standing in front of our house, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

I hesitated before pushing open the door. The state of the house hit me like a wave—bottles littered the floor, and the lights were out, casting eerie shadows in the dim light. I was scared, but I knew I had to see him. I stepped inside, each creak of the floorboards amplifying the tension in my chest.

When I reached our bedroom, my breath caught in my throat. Grayson was lying on the floor, a bottle beside him. He looked completely out of it, his body sprawled in a way that made my heart ache. I knelt beside him, gently shaking him. “Gray, wake up,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Please, you need to get up.”

He stirred slightly but didn’t fully awaken. My heart sank as I realized he was too far gone. I stood up, feeling a surge of desperation, and began to clean the mess around the house. Each movement was mechanical, driven by a need to restore some sense of order. I scrubbed the floors and tidied up, my actions numb and driven by the overwhelming need to do something, anything.

Hours later, after the house was somewhat presentable, I took a hot shower, hoping the water would wash away my fear and despair. When I emerged, Grayson was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with his eyes fixed on the floor. He was so distant, and the sight of him like this—so hollow and detached—cut deeper than I could have imagined.

“Eli,” he said abruptly, his voice rough and devoid of emotion. “You need to get out.”

The words hit me like a slap. “What’s going on, Gray? Why are you doing this? Why are you pushing me away?”

He didn’t respond right away, his shoulders tense and his gaze averted. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained. “I said, get out.”

My heart ached, and my eyes filled with tears. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. I’m trying to understand. I need to know.”

He looked up then, his eyes dark and empty. “Your mother—she’s the reason why everything fell apart. She was my father’s mistress.”

The shock of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt frozen, unable to move as the magnitude of what he was saying settled in. My mother, the woman I had always admired, was tied to Grayson’s family in a way I had never imagined. The betrayal felt like it was tearing my world apart.

Grayson’s voice grew more strained, almost pleading. “I’ve already hurt you. You should be mad. You should curse me.”

The brutal honesty of his confession left me reeling. I sank to the floor, my body trembling with uncontrollable sobs. The pain of the revelation and the memories of what had happened between us overwhelmed me. I felt as though my entire world had shattered, every truth I had held dear now tainted with a darkness I couldn’t escape.

Grayson watched me, his face a mixture of anguish and regret. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, though the apology felt hollow and inadequate in the face of the destruction he had caused.

I couldn’t stop crying. The house was silent except for the sound of my sobs, and the space between us was heavy with unspoken pain. The man I had once loved was now a source of my deepest agony, and the secrets of our past had laid bare a truth I couldn’t ignore.

In the midst of my despair, I realized that the future was now even more uncertain. The man who had once been my rock was now a source of unbearable pain, and the truths I had uncovered left me adrift, struggling to grasp the reality of what had happened.

The silence in the room was suffocating. Grayson’s admission hung in the air, thick and heavy, like a dark cloud that refused to dissipate. I couldn’t process it fully—my mind was too fractured, spinning from the gravity of what he had just revealed.

I pulled myself up from the floor, my tears still flowing uncontrollably. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to make sense of the chaos that was consuming me. Instead, I felt numb, my body moving mechanically as I struggled to stand. The room seemed to spin around me as I tried to reconcile with the reality that my mother’s past had caused so much pain—pain that I was now caught in.

Grayson didn’t move from his spot on the bed, his face a mask of detachment and sorrow. He didn’t offer comfort or seek forgiveness; he remained a distant figure, watching me with a hollow expression. It was as if the emotional distance between us had solidified into something tangible, something that couldn’t be crossed.

“Why?” I managed to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why did you have to hurt me like this?”

Grayson’s eyes were cold, unresponsive. “I don’t know,” he said flatly, as if the question didn’t matter anymore. “I didn’t know how to handle it. I couldn’t control it.”

I stumbled away from him, the sight of his indifference fueling my anger. I slammed the bedroom door behind me, seeking a refuge in the mess of the house I had tried so hard to clean. The emptiness and chaos mirrored my internal state, and I felt lost in the clutter of broken dreams and shattered illusions.

I wandered through the house, each step heavy with the weight of despair. I tried to ignore the remnants of a life that once felt normal—the pictures on the walls, the furniture that now seemed foreign. Everything was tainted by the revelation, by the knowledge that our lives had been irrevocably altered by secrets and betrayals.

Eventually, I collapsed onto the couch, my sobs echoing through the stillness. The house seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with its coldness. Grayson’s absence from the room was a stark reminder of how far we had drifted from each other.

Hours passed, and I remained there, frozen in my grief and confusion. The weight of the truth was too much to bear, and the future seemed like an insurmountable abyss. I was alone in a house that felt alien, surrounded by the remnants of a life that had been shattered beyond recognition.

I didn’t know where to go from here or how to move forward. The person who had once been my everything was now the source of my deepest pain, and the revelations of the past had left me reeling. As the night wore on, the only certainty was the overwhelming ache in my chest, a reminder of the fractured reality that I had to face.