All's Fair in Love and Las Vegas

Chapter Eighty-Five

        Grayson made breakfast, handing me a plate of scrambled eggs and sausage. We sat quietly at separate ends of the kitchen counter, both of us picking at our food. Finally I stood up, taking my plate to the sink and washing it. Grayson remained at the counter, blankly staring down at his uneaten breakfast.

        Heading back to the bedroom, I packed up what little things I'd put in the drawers and closet. I gathered all my things from the bathroom, somewhat carelessly tossing them in my toiletries bag, then carelessly tossed that into my suitcase. All the while, I somehow avoided Grayson, who was doing his own packing up. I also got dressed, wearing a sweater and leggings since it would be cold when we landed in Vancouver and I didn't have a winter coat with me.

        By ten thirty, we were ready to go, or at least, I hoped so. Neither of us communicated this verification. Instead, Grayson took the keys off the wall and walked outside, apparently hoping I would follow. I did, towing my suitcase and carry-on. I got in the passenger side of the Jeep, my hairline already sweating from my Canadian attire. The heat only got worse when we stepped out onto the tarmac, where the sun was practically cooking us alive.

        Wordlessly, Grayson took my suitcase from me and gave it to the flight crew. I did not thank him, even though I was slightly grateful as I walked up the stairs. The air conditioning was nice, especially when Grayson got in and closed the door after him. I noticed he sat on the other side of the plane, taking out his earbuds and a book.

        My form of entertainment was a nap. Folded up on the couch last night had left my spine a wreck, and while a luxury airplane didn't make a much better bed, I needed the rest. So I leaned back, looking out the window as I drifted off.

        "Here," Grayson said gruffly right before I was totally asleep. Annoyed, I opened my eyes to see him holding out the folder. "You still need to sign."

        "Oh." I took the pen and folder and scrawled my signature. This is what I should've done back in Las Vegas. It feels good to be legally away from him for the first time in six months. Satisfied, I handed it back. Was it the official end of us? Yes. But the end of us had been building for months now, ever since he'd supposedly fallen in love with me.

        Grayson grunted out his thanks and I settled back into my chair. Closing my eyes, I fell asleep in a matter of minutes, this time without any disturbances.

        "Jackie."

        I jolted awake, a scowl already forming on my face. But Grayson was already halfway out the door. Apparently we'd landed. Still drowsy, I grabbed my bag and stumbled down the steps after him. It was snowing out, not heavily but the flakes coming down fast. Taking my bags, I rushed over to Grayson's car, which was exactly where we'd left it the day of the wedding. He was driving, so I got in the front seat.

        As he worked his way through the city, I noticed his expression turn less stormy and more seasick. Finally he cleared his throat and said, "What's the plan?"

        "We have to be fighting when we walk in," I said hardly. "Yelling, drama." Stuff we were already doing.

        "Fine. How do we reveal the divorce?"

        "You bring up the fact that we've been arguing the entire flight. I say I'm sick of it. You bring up divorce, I agree, you storm away," I said. Maybe the plan wasn't perfect, but I was sure I'd be able to get angry with Grayson just fine. Part of my heart ached; planning our silly, dramatic fight should've been fun. Now it was just a performance written onto the end of our actual fight.

        His jaw tensed. "What are we fighting about?"

        I almost laughed. It was ironic that we had to plan a fake fight. "I don't know."