Addiction| 18+

23| honeymoon

Grey

I didn't sleep.

Not really. My eyes closed at some point, but it wasn't rest. Just a pause before I was back to thinking, scanning, worrying.

The office feels too bright. Papers are scattered across the desk, contracts and reports I'm supposed to care about, calls I'm supposed to answer. Everything moves forward. Everyone else moves forward. But I can't. I keep seeing her face, the way her hands trembled, the way she breathed. I don't know what she dreamed about. I don't need to. I can feel it anyway—the panic, the fear, the way she curls into herself.

My fingers drum on the desk. I try to focus. Meetings. Calls. Decisions. But the images of her are louder than anything in the room.

"Grey?"

Mathew's voice cuts through my fog like a sharp edge.

I look up. He's in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowing. He doesn't even need to ask; he can tell.

"You're out of it," he says. Not a question.

I give a short, tight laugh. "Yeah. Maybe a little."

He steps in, closing the door behind him. "You look like shit. Did you even sleep?"

I shrug. "Enough." That's all I admit.

Mathew studies me for a second. "You're... not yourself. Something happened."

I press my hands to my face. "I'm fine. Just... tired. Too many things on my mind."

He doesn't buy it. "Bullshit. You're thinking about something else."

I can't answer. So I stay quiet.

"You stayed up worrying?" he presses.

I grit my teeth. "Maybe."

He exhales, long and patient. "Grey... you're not going to fix anything by running yourself into the ground."

I run a hand through my hair. "I know. I just... I can't stop thinking. That's all."

Mathew leans against the desk, serious. "You've never cared like this before. You've never... had someone matter to you the way she does. And it's throwing you off. You're trying to control it. Trying to fix it. And you can't."

I let out a rough breath. He's right. Always right. And it pisses me off that he sees it.

"Then what do I do?" I ask quietly.

"Pay attention," he says. "Watch. Listen. Don't hover. Don't push. Let her set the pace. That's how you start."

I nod. Don't argue. Can't argue.

"Also," he adds, tone sharper, "take care of yourself. She can't depend on someone who's running on empty."

I glance at the clock. Meetings, calls, business as usual. But my mind isn't there. It's on her. The tension in her hands. Her chest still rising from the panic. I feel it like a weight in my own chest. What the fuck happened to her.

Mathew notices the way I stare off at nothing. "You're going to survive this day?"

"Yeah," I say. Short. Flat. Won't explain more.

He shakes his head. "Grey... just remember: you can't control everything. Not her dreams. Not her fears. Not anything. You just... have to be present. That's it."

I nod again, more firmly. The rest—my exhaustion, my worries—they stay with me. Internal. Private.

Then he gestures to the folder on my desk. "And don't forget about the honeymoon. We need to schedule it soon. It's important. For her. For you. For both of you. Don't push it off."

I pause. Honeymoon. The word hits differently today, heavier than usual. I know I can't just throw it together like a meeting. It matters. For appearances. Everyone think our marriage is real. And to keep my name high I have to follow through with this.

I glance down at the folder, thinking through the logistics. Flights. Hotels. Travel time. My cousin's place in the Bahamas keeps coming to mind—big, private, quiet, with a pool and beach right outside. Perfect for keeping her comfortable. There's work I have to take care of down there anyways.

I decide, in that quiet calculation, that we'll stay there. My cousin's house. It's easier. Safer. Controlled. The kids are sweet, they're familiar, and it's an environment I can manage. And maybe, if nothing else, Hayley can just... breathe.

Mathew watches me, probably noticing the way my jaw tightens. "You'll schedule it," he says. "Get it locked down. It's not just a trip. It's a statement. That you care. That you're thinking ahead. That she's part of this... part of your life now. Don't drop the ball on this."

I nod again. Silent. Internalizing. This is about to be a shit show.

***

End of chapter 23 yay