Breaking Me Slowly

Twelve

The following morning, I had woken up early and decided that I needed some coffee. I quickly throw on the first pair of jeans I see and throw on a sweatshirt over my pajama shirt. As I make my way downstairs, I round the corner and almost run into someone.

“I’m sorry,” the young woman says.

She was carrying a tray with a teapot, two teacups, some sugar and honey. I don’t know how she managed to not drop it.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I should’ve been more careful.”

She gives me a small, shy smile. I take the chance to really look at her and surmise that she was just a little bit over eighteen. It made me wonder about her story and how she ended up here.

“Excuse me,” she says before scurrying off towards the East wing, where the Delgado’s were residing.

I continued to make my way to the kitchen for that cup of joe. Since it was still early, I wasn’t expecting to find anyone in the kitchen, so I was a bit surprised to see Madeline sitting at the table, reading some sort of document.

Madeline is too engrossed with what she’s reading that she doesn’t even notice when I walk in.

“Good morning,” I say.

She finally looks up from what she’s reading. “Morning.”

I make my cup of coffee and take a sip.

“So, are you nervous?”

I blink. “About?” I know what she’s referring to, but I decide to play dumb. She was just probing for information so she could report back to the Council.

She cracks a smile. “The wedding,” she clarifies. “You must be feeling anxious. The big day is approaching soon.”

I take a seat across from her, gently setting down my cup on the table. “I guess so much is happening that I haven’t really processed how soon it is.”

Madeline closes the folder, hiding the papers she was reading. “It’ll probably all hit once it gets a bit closer.” She leans back in her seat.

Something about her was different. She didn’t seem as nice as she had been just a few weeks ago and I was beginning to think she didn’t think I could make it in Grayson’s world.

“Maybe,” I say at last.

Madeline was about to say something when Grayson walked in. He walks straight over to me and plants a kiss on my lips.

“Good morning,” he tells me. “How’d you sleep?”

“Very well, actually. Coffee?” I offer my cup, holding it up to him.

He makes a face. “Coffee before breakfast?”

“I needed the caffeine more.”

He laughs. “So, I see.”

I feel Madeline’s gaze on us. When I take the chance to glance at her, a smirk is on her lips. I try not to read too much into it. Grayson follows my line of sight, barely noticing that Madeline was in the room.

“Good morning, Madeline,” Grayson greets her.

“Good morning, Grayson. How was the ballet?”

“Very good. It’s a shame you couldn’t make it,” he answers.

She clears her throat. “Yeah, well, I had… work.”

Grayson doesn’t comment. Instead, he looks at me and says, “We’re going cake tasting today.”

I straighten up. “Cake tasting,” I repeat.

He smiles. “I see I’ve piqued your interest.”

“I do enjoy cake.”

“We leave in an hour.”

I nod. “I shall be ready.”

Grayson chuckles and kisses my cheek before leaving the kitchen. I turn my gaze to Madeline to see she went back to reading her papers. I use this moment to get up, quickly wash the mug, and escape back upstairs.

“This one is lemon cake with buttercream frosting,” Mariah says. She was another friend of Rebecca’s – no surprise there – who owned a bakery and would be making the wedding cake.

Mariah handed me and Grayson a plate before handing one to Rebecca and Vern. I took a bite of the cake, enjoying the sweet citrus flavor. However, Grayson did not seem to be enjoying his at all. His nose was scrunched up in disgust and his lips puckered just a bit as he chewed.

He noticed me staring at him and stops mid chew. I pique a brow as if to ask him, what’s wrong?

“I’m not a huge fan of lemon.”

I almost laugh. “Then why did you take it?”

His shoulders slightly raise up. “I didn’t want to be rude.”

“She wouldn’t think it’s rude. Everyone has different tastes.”

Grayson doesn’t get a chance to reply, seeing as Vern decided to walk over to us and loudly announce how great the cake was.

“This one is definitely one of my top faves,” she says.

“Every single one of them has been in your top favorites,” Grayson says, flatly.

She shrugs. “What can I say, I like cake.”

“What flavor are you guys leaning towards?” Mariah questions.

I glance at Grayson. “I like the vanilla with fresh strawberries,” he says.

“One of our most popular flavors.” Mariah looks at me, expectantly.

“Either the fresh strawberries or the pink champagne.”

“Ooh,” Vern croons. “Go with the pink champagne!”

Grayson ignores her. “I say the strawberry.”

Vern glares at him in response.

Mariah looks at me for confirmation.

“I’m good with the strawberry.”

“You’re not even going to consider my opinion?” Vern questions.

“No,” Grayson answers, briefly glancing at her.

“What about the design?” Mariah glances between the two of us.

Rebecca moves next to Mariah and says, “I actually have an idea…”

Thirty minutes later, we found ourselves walking down the end of the block to grab lunch. It was this cute little French café that Rebecca had recommended.

When we were all settled in and had already ordered our drinks, I decided to take the opportunity to ask Rebecca about Sydney.

Grayson takes a sip of his water, staying unusually quiet. Rebecca’s body grew stiff and rigid as her eyes glazed over the menu.

She cleared her throat, looked up and said, “She’s doing well. Getting better every day.” Rebecca’s smile seemed forced and her words were rushed. Something was off.

Vern had barely paid attention to our conversation. She was too busy muttering to herself about what she should order.

After that, lunch was quiet for the most part. Her and Rebecca did most of the talking and it was mostly to one another. It seemed that Rebecca was trying to stay constantly in conversation with Vern.  

Grayson and I kept mostly to ourselves, barely saying more than a few words here and there. I felt like he was hiding something too and I wasn’t sure how to get him to talk to me about it.

Vern never noticed the tension hanging in the air between the three of us. I preferred it that way, though and I didn’t think I could handle her commentary on it anyways.

I was too busy thinking of all the ways I could get Grayson to talk that I never noticed when he leaned over.

“She’s really doing okay,” Grayson whispers to me.

My head snaps in his direction, making sure that he was telling the truth.

“Did you see her?” I ask.

He shook his head. “No, but I talked to Jensen.”

I felt relieved.  

“Hey,” Vern calls out to us, “what are you two whispering about?”

“None of your business,” Grayson replies without missing a beat.

Vern tries to discretely give him the finger, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rebecca.

“Not here!” she reprimands Vern.

Vern simply looks at Grayson and says, “This isn’t over.”

The drive home is quiet. No one utters a word and the soft hum of the radio is not loud enough to silence the thoughts running through my head. All I could think about for the entire ride home was about Sydney, the baby, Isabel, and even Madeline.

As soon as we got home, I headed straight for my room, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed and pull the covers over my head. But when I swung the door open to my room, something felt off.

It seemed as if someone had gone through my room as if looking for something. The drawers to my dresser slightly ajar and upon taking a look inside, my clothes were pushed around. Whoever was in here was in a hurry and didn’t do a great job of being discrete.

I went straight to the window double checking if it was locked. I pull the curtain back and sure enough, its locked. And then that’s when I glanced at the armchair and noticed the teddy bear my grandmother had given me was gone.