Grayson POV
Grayson stared at the ceiling, counting the faint cracks in the paint like they held some kind of answer. His therapist’s office was quiet, warm, safe—a stark contrast to the storm inside his head.
“Let’s start with what’s on your mind,” Dr. Porter said gently, folding her hands in her lap.
His mouth twisted. What wasn’t on his mind?
Vivienne.
He could still see the way she’d stormed out of the B&B lobby, her eyes shimmering with something raw, something familiar. He’d wanted to go after her—to demand what the hell was wrong—but she was already gone before he could move.
“You’re not talking,” Dr. Porter prompted, her voice calm but expectant.
He exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “I screwed up…again.”
“Vivienne?” she guessed, not needing much context after
