Deserving of More

Chapter Eight: Amazing Grace

Everything went blurry as I stormed out of the office. I heard Mike behind me as I found Grace, sitting on a sofa.

"Tell me," I demanded as I came to a stop in front of her.

"I take it you told her?" Grace asked, looking behind me. A moment passed, and I knew he'd nodded.

"He said you had all the details," I informed her, "So tell me. Because if I am going to put my career, my relationships, and possibly my life at risk, I should know why."

"That's fair," she replied, rising from her seat. She looked at Mike. "Can we use your office?"

"Of course," he told us, with a wave of his hand.

Moments later, I found myself in the same room, sitting in the same chair, waiting for someone close to Chester to speak.

"We love each other," she finally said, taking a deep breath afterwards. I sat silently, and waited for her to continue. "It wasn't anything we planned. But it happened." She looked at me as I sat there, waiting for everything she had to say. "We were friends first. For a long time. It wasn't like how it was with Adria or Veronica. It wasn't fast. It grew over time. I built my life around him. And one day, he came to me. In agony, because things with Veronica were not okay. They hadn't been for some time. And I comforted him. It wasn't easy to take that step with him. What would you have done? If he came to you that way?"

"I don't know," I confessed, "Because I never saw him that way. I always thought of him like an older brother."

She smiled.

"That's sweet," she continued, "But I think you love him enough that you would've done the same thing. Anything to see him suffer less."

"Probably," I admitted.

"Well that's what happened. And we discovered our mutual feelings. I love him. He loved... loves me. We wanted a life together. But it was taken from us. And now, she sits on the throne, playing the part of grieving widow, and I suffer in silence."

I wanted to take a deep breath, but couldn't seem to find any air. "I did everything I could," she continued, "To make him happy. To make sure he felt loved. To keep him safe. And she gets on the forums and makes it look like he was weak, and she was his strength. That she was there for him while he suffered. She wasn't there for him," her voice was becoming a growl, "I was. I held him in my arms while he wept. I stayed up all night to make sure he was still breathing when he relapsed. I truly love him, while she pretends. Proclaiming she never saw the signs while they were clearly all over his face!"

She let out a sob, and I instinctively embraced her, letting her story sink in to me. "It wasn't enough," I heard her say quietly, "It wasn't enough. I failed him and now he's gone." I squeezed her before pulling away so I could look at her.

"You didnt fail him, Grace," I told her, shaking my head, "He fought until he couldn't."

"I miss him so much," she said through her tears, "And it hurts even more to watch everyone show her love and support when she never gave that to him. Everything she does and says is to gather attention and sympathy from the citizens. But if you really look. Really listen. Everything is flat."

The word "flat" shook something loose in my memory.

"Scottsdale," I said to myself in a whisper. I could feel my eyes unfocus, and I was staring through Grace and the furniture as it all came back to me. The emptiness of Veronica's eyes. The emotionless tone of her voice during her speech. The photo op. It fell into place as a physical jolt shot through my body. The room came back into proper focus as the fog of denial lifted.