"Hailey's POV"
I stood and watched as Gray stepped out of his car. He wore the gray shirt I bought for him. Guess why I bought it. Yeah, because it matched his name.
"Hi."
"Hey." He smiled, leaning casually against his car like nothing was wrong.
"What are you doing here?"
"Really?"
"I mean, you didn't tell me you were coming."
"Do I have to tell my girlfriend every time I want to see her? I wanted to surprise you."
He pressed his keys, and the boot popped open.
"I got something."
I folded my hands, waiting. He came out with a small jewelry bag and a bouquet.
"For you."
"Thanks. But… why were they in the boot?"
"No reason. You really love satisfying your curiosity."
I gave a small smile but pressed again. "So really, why are you here?"
He drew a deep breath. "I wore my gray shirt today."
That was our code. Whenever he wore it, it meant apology. But I wanted to hear him actually say it.
"And?" I tilted my head, pretending not to know.
"Are you going to be like this?"
"Like how?"
He sighed. "Fine. I came to apologise."
"About what?"
He shifted. "I… went into your house without asking."
"And what else?"
His brow furrowed. "Is there something else?"
"What did you do when I confronted you about it?"
"I denied it."
"Yeah. And then?"
"I… can't remember."
"I can. Should I remind you?"
"Y—no. No, it's fine."
"Instead of admitting it, you first denied. Then when I showed you evidence, you flipped it and guilt-tripped me. You said as my boyfriend you had the right." My voice hardened. "Gray, that's not how trust works."
"Sorry," he muttered, barely loud enough.
"Why did you do that, and what will you do from now on?"
"I won't do it again. I don't know what else to say."
"What you did is a criminal offense, Gray. This isn't small. You can't just brush it off."
"I know, that's why I came to apologise. But instead of accepting it, you're bombarding me with questions. Can't you just take the apology?"
"Apologising isn't the end of it. If we don't talk about what went wrong, how do we stop it happening again?"
He groaned. "Put yourself in my shoes. If you messed up and I grilled you like this, would you be happy?"
"It's not about being happy, it's about being responsible. If I hurt you, I'd expect you to call me out."
"Well, that's you. Me, I don't like it. It puts me down."
His words knocked the wind out of me. I didn't even know what to say.
He reached for compromise. "Look, you're hungry, right? That's why you're reacting like this. Let's just go eat."
I wanted to argue, to tell him my hunger had nothing to do with it. But I was too tired. If I pushed, we'd spin into another debate.
"You've forgiven me, right? Let's go."
He opened the car door, gesturing for me to get in. My silence was as good as agreement.
○○○
We settled down and Gray called a waiter.
"The usual, sir?" the waiter asked.
I frowned. "You've been here before?"
"Only once," he said quickly. "Trust me, it's good."
My stomach growled, and he laughed, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. It was affectionate, but firm, like he was reminding me I was his.
When the spaghetti came, the first bite melted on my tongue, rich and buttery. Fireworks went off in my brain. I nodded, scooping up more.
"It's good, right?"
"Very."
He smiled proudly, as though he'd cooked it himself.
Then came the wine suggestion. He wanted to drink, I disapproved, he backtracked and promised to call a driver. Typical Gray --push first, adjust later.
After the meal, he did as he said and got a driver to take me home. But even outside my building, he pushed again.
"I'm just curious about your house. I'm your boyfriend but I don't know how it looks. We've been dating for over a year now. Is that fair?"
"I don't know how yours looks either."
"Because you don't want to. I invited you, you refused."
"Because I was busy."
"And I stopped asking. So now it's your turn. Invite me in. Or I'm not leaving."
I glanced at the driver, clearly annoyed. Gray was tipsy, stubborn, and I was drained. "Fine. Next week."
He grinned, hugging me, his weight heavy. I smiled weakly, waved him off, and slipped inside.
The groceries were still by the door, untouched since yesterday morning. The kitchen was a mess, laundry piled high, books stacked unread by my bed. I sighed, rolling up my sleeves.
As I cleaned, cooked, washed, and finally crawled into bed, one thought refused to leave me.
Gray had apologised, taken me out, smiled and laughed like nothing was wrong. But somehow, in between the bouquet and the spaghetti, my mind had drifted. To a stranger. To the sharp-eyed boy from the café who didn't even know my name.
I had forgotten Gray's offense till I saw him. But I didn't forget Jason, not even over dinner.
And that terrified me.