This is just ridiculous. I'm thirty-three years old, not thirteen. I shouldn't feel nervous about staying out too late. I don't have to explain anything to my mother, god rest her soul. I do, however, have to explain things to my wife. But I can't really explain what I don't understand. I suspect she'll be in bed anyway, seeing as it's seven o'clock in the morning. And she couldn't have changed that much in four years, could she? Besides, I don't even know what time she had gone to bed. Hopefully she and David had had a nice talk. I've heard that he can provide a special brand of comfort. I don't really like to think about that.
It killed me to have to go to him. I dislike David Hayward intensely. I don't care that he was Leo's brother, I don't care how fond Greenlee is of him, and I certainly don't care about how many lives he's saved. He didn't save the one that mattered the most. Not to mention how he had treated Gillian in the past, coercing her into sex and all that. He was an asshole, pure and simple. But he knows Greenlee better than anyone else.
He's bad for her, though. I mean, I hate the guy, but he's been through some tough shit. Some of his behavior could only be expected. But after the Leora and Anna stuff happened, he became even more cynical and bitter than ever. And it rubbed off onto Greenlee, unfortunately. But what other alternatives did I have? Jackson? Mary? Useless and out of touch with their daughter, although you had to give points to Jackson for at least trying. Simone and Mia? I wasn't sure if they were even still friends. Besides, those two always seemed to be more on Kendall's side than Greenlee's. David was my last and really, only resort.
I opened the door gingerly. Christ, it was freezing. I look quickly over to the window, wondering if she had left it open accidentally. Well, it was closed, not like that did much good when there was a gaping hole in it. Shit. The building manager's going to love this. As I walk over to check it out it I hear something crunch under my foot and I kneel down to examine it. Pills, a couple of them. I brush them underneath the area rug. Don't want to track them all over the place.
I peek into my bedroom and see Greenlee, fast asleep amidst my pillows and comforter. She really is beautiful. I think she's forgotten that. Who would have ever thought that could happen?
I decide to cook up some breakfast, wondering if the smell of frying bacon will be enough to lure Greenlee from her slumber. God knows she must be starving, seeing as I didn't come back with any food last night. I'll have to buy her a freezer's worth of ice cream to make up for that. I don't even want to know what I'd have to do to get her to forgive me if she knew where I really was last night. I pray that David hadn't said anything.
"Good morning." Greenlee stands in the doorway, looking so small in her oversize robe. She fiddles with the belt and takes in the food sitting on the counter. "Looks good." I gasp as she lifts her head up.
"Jesus! What happened? Are you okay?" Her forehead is purpled and bruised and I can see blood on the clumsily applied bandage. I think back to the broken window. "Did someone break in? You should have called me." Not that I had my phone with me. She smiles slightly as she snatches a piece of bacon off the plate.
"Don't even worry about it Ryan. I slipped and fell last night. Maybe due to lack of sustenance." She narrows her eyes and then laughs. I decide to ignore her last comment.
"Did David look after that for you when he stopped by?" I wonder if it would actually be possible to physically jam my foot into my mouth. I don't want to get into anything but I'm practically begging to because of my idiocy. She stares at me while slowly chewing, and it unnerves me to the point where I turn away, ostensibly to grab the peppermill from the cupboard. Finally, finally swallowing, I guess, she says:
"I don't need any help. I'm fine. There was no need to involve David." She says this calmly, as though we're discussing where we should go for dinner. I don't know if I'm more relieved or nervous by her civil tone.
"I'm sorry-" That was the first thing I learned about women. When they're angry about something, no matter what it is, always start out by apologizing. It goes a long way. Usually. "-But I just thought you might like to see him. I know how close you two are." I'm sidestepping the issue, as is become my habit recently.
"I think I can set up my own meetings, thanks. I don't need someone to baby-sit me while you're out-" My heart leaps in my chest and I set the peppermill down on the counter with a clatter. I hear Greenlee sigh. "- While you're out. I'm a grown woman and I can take care of myself. I thought I made that clear before we got married."
"I know you did. I know you can. That's one of my favourite things about you, your independence." This is bullshit, and I know it. Greenlee Smythe has never been independent. She's clung to whatever guy she's ever been involved with and whenever that goes up in smoke, as it almost invariably does, she runs back to her grandfather. She's never done one thing independently, no matter what she says regarding Fusion. That was a four- person job, and a poor one at that. Twenty-seven years old and still nothing to show for her life. That's not independence; that's failure. "I was just worried about you. You've seemed a little down lately. I thought David could cheer you up since I've been doing a pretty crappy job." I smile weakly.
"I know. I'm sorry that I've been so depressing to be around." I rush to contradict her, telling her that I haven't exactly been the life of the party either. And isn't that what life is? One giant party?