It's final. I have no say in what I can wear, how I can talk, to who I can speak, and so on.

Amanda and William have successfully made me their puppet.

I couldn't even choose the dress I'm wearing for the dinner gathering, a green silk dress, with a plunging neckline and a slit so high up it reaches my mid-thigh. Not something I'd wear for such an event, with every man a borderline arrogant 'I don't take a no for an answer' and 'I'm rich enough to own everything in the entire world, why not you' kinda attitude. Totally something Amanda would wear, though.

My heels are short, less than three inches. Amanda didn't approve, but I couldn't risk jeopardizing three months of physio.

Carefully I thread past the corridors, my heels tutting against the floral mosaics, as I hope not to slip or trip. I amble to the gardens, a long table set out for tonight's dinner. Almost every guest is present.

I scan the faces and immediately my breath catches in my throat as I locate Spencer sitting in the furthest spot he could've chosen while still being around the same table as William and Amanda. He's busy listening to someone and from the gleam, in his eyes I bet whatever that man is telling him is beyond intriguing for him. Every few moments, deliberately he raises his glass to his lips, drawing a small sip.

I inhale sharply and run my hands over my dress, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles as I climb down the stairs and move a part of my professionally curled hair behind my shoulder. The ring on my finger weights heavy, and the harder I try not to think about it, the more pressing it becomes, as though it's searing through my skin.

Kristian's head whirls to me the moment I set foot on the grassy ground. He stands up, plasters a wide grin and holds out his arm for me.

Someone needs to hand over an Oscar to him.

I refrain from rolling my eyes and mirror his smile with a fake one of my own.

"Gracie, my love," he says, earning chuckles from around the table, while I struggle not to cringe or grimace.

The first two buttons of his basil green shirt are undone and his dark eyes, appearing completely black in under vast black night sky, gleam with hunger and smugness. He's winning.

I accept his hand and he pulls me to himself, hugging me, but before he land his mouth on mine, I turn my face and he ends up kissing my cheek.

"My lipstick would've been ruined," I murmur under my breath as his expression tightens, and happy façade cracks.

He curtly nods and helps me sit on the empty chair on his right before settling back in.

The discussions flare up again, boisterous laughter echoes in the vacant garden, while everyone drinks and talks over the other. It's almost dizzying the variety of discussions going around, every once in a while, I catch Spencer's eyes for a moment nothing else matter.

Most of the time, I keep up with the pleasantries, pretending to be interested in someone's marriage tale I had never seen the person up until yesterday, or acting as if care what they're getting from their husbands as a wedding anniversary gift.

As the finest wines of Italy continue flowing and consumed, soon, the men puff out their egos more and flaunt their money less discretely and the woman become louder, jabbing and jeering at each other.

I don't touch my drink, but Kristian does, and too soon, the effects begin to show as his hand stars straying to me more frequently. Either planting on my thigh and grabbing my hand on the table to showcase I'm with him, as if everyone doesn't already know.

He drapes his arm around me as he talks to his friends, the same ones from the night club, his groomsmen, and Colton as his best man.

Amanda decided my maid of honours will be her niece. I don't even know the girl.

Kristian pulls me closer to himself, laughing and saying, "I did it! The wildest of us, is now mine! Every guy's dream girl!"

Someone from the other side of the table exclaims, "Kiss!"

The other guests, sitting on around tables, the ones who in Amanda's opinion weren't too important, join the ones sitting around the table I'm at, cheering kiss kiss kiss.

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

What are we? In middle school!

The goddamn wine.

Kristian snatches the opportunity. He grabs my chin and kisses me forcefully, hungrily, shoving his fingers through my hair. I fist my hands to stop it from pushing him off me, as I kiss him back unwillingly, with my eyes squeezed shut. The guests around us shamelessly stare, their eyes like needles prick my skin, even though I can't see it. They neither hesitate to show their approval with oohs and awws.

Not being able to take it any longer, as his lips keeps moving on mine, I break the kiss and pull away, making him drop his hand from the back of my head.

"Shall we have our dessert?" I offer in a sickly-sweet voice, making myself gag inwardly.

"You are my dessert," he says in what he probably thinks is his sexy voice.

Internally I face palm though plaster smile because I'm in no mood for Amanda getting pissy again.

Relieved, I shift on my seat to busy myself with the dessert, from the corner of my eye I catch Spencer raising to his feet, and leaving abruptly.

Frowning, I watch his retreating back, disappearing in the shadows.

An uncomfortable thickness settles at the back of my throat as a heaviness rests on my chest.

I glance down at my plate, my fingers fidgeting, biding away time.

After what feels like forever, though it can't be longer than five minutes, I excuse myself.

Mom's sharpened gaze follows me as I climb the stairs I came down from, but I pretend not to notice.

Walking in the same path Spencer did until he disappeared from my line of sight, I hope I'll be able to spot him before anyone comes looking for me.

Hesitantly, I peek my head in every corner until I reach the pathway leading to the pool, and there he is, sitting by the pool, with his legs in it.

I push my hair behind my shoulder and grab the corner of my dress' trailing skirt and slowly make my way to him. Each step has my heart beating faster and faster until I can't take it anymore, until it's too much.

I stop a few paces away from him, my fingers fiddling, I tilt my head to the side waiting for his reaction. When he stays still, I tentatively take another stride. "Mind if I join?"

"You shouldn't be here," he quietly replies.

"And neither should you." I take off my shoes and bunch up my dress in one hand as I carefully sit down next to him and dip my legs inside the cool pool water. "Plus, it's supposed to be closed, so technically you're breaking the rules."

A corner of his mouth twitches up and he brings his glass Negroni up and sips.

"I didn't take you for a person who would change his go-to whiskey just because he's in a different country."

He drums his fingers on the side of the glass, still not looking at me, before raising it. "I'm trying to fit in with the elites." He snorts and shakes his head. "Apparently, being in Italy means only ordering Italian stuff, plus I'm not the one paying, so," he leaves his words hanging as he shrugs.

Silence falls on us like a blanket, growing heavier with each heartbeat as the words we should've said, should be saying hangs low between us.

I dangle my legs, creating ripples in the otherwise serene water. After a while, I ask quietly, "Why did you leave?"

He clenches his jaw, the muscle ticking. "You want me to say it, even though you know the reason."

"I do... because you never say anything."

He sighs and pushes his glasses up. "Whatever we do, or say from this point onwards will only end up making things worse and hurt both of us."

I nibble my bottom lip and watch the sea visible in the distance. "Savannah suggested I talk to William to swap your place with Kristian."

"What?" His head whirls to me. I glance at him from the corner of my eye as he gawks.

"I know William won't agree. He wants to fix his golden boy's reputation with this marriage." I tuck a curl behind my ear and lift a shoulder, trying to sound cool and composed, like I'm not dying to know my question's answer. "But hypothetically speaking, if it he would've been okay with it, would you have agreed?"

I wait for a long moment and when he doesn't answer and lift my gaze up to him.

He purses his mouth, fixing his gaze on the hills visible on his left, hiding his face from me. "There's no point in considering alternatives that won't ever occur." Though I can't see his expression, as composed and calm as his voice might be, I note the pain he's trying to shield.

I bite my bottom lip. I can't tell why suddenly a lump is blocking my throat. "Do you care about me?"

His head snaps to me, his brows raised high, and his lips part but no words come out.

"Sometimes, I feel like you do, but most of the time is like you don't."

"Gracie," he says, his voice soft and pleading.

"Don't you think after everything we should know; we deserve to know these things. I want to know where I stand in your life."

He releases a deep shaky exhale.

"Why can't you say the things you wrote in the letter to my face?"

He shakes his head brings it down. "I'm not good with words. It's... hard." He draws in a sharp breath. "I'm a coward, remember?"

I stare at him until he meets my gaze. Pain and despair palpable in eyes beautiful dark blue eyes as the lights inside the pool cast a soft glow on his features, making him look other worldly handsome.

"Why?" I quaver.

"Fear," he answers after a long while.

I blink with confusion. He sighs and shakes his head again, building back the walls around himself and retreating into it.

"Spencer, please." I find his hand and grasp it, as if physically holding it will stop him from drawing away from me. The warmth of his skin electrifies my palm and sends ripples of heat and longing crashing through my veins.

"Gracie, there's no point, it's too late. Talking won't fix-"

"I want to hear your side, I want to know... and I think, I deserve to know."

I wait a beat before continuing, "You never fought for me. You never fought for us. I want to know why. You never gave us a chance. I know someone who doesn't care won't ever go to the extremes you've gone for me, yet... when it's just the two of us, it's like you're an entirely different person. Someone who can't care less about me."

He downs his drink and slams the glass on the pool coping. "Because I'm the one who was wrong, I'm the one who made everything worse and ruined it all, now I don't have the dare to ask you to give me another chance, because I know I don't deserve it."

"I wish you'd think more Like Savannah," I mumble and take my hand away from him.

Confused, he frowns at me.

"If you really wanted me in your life, you wouldn't quit so easily." I shift on my spot, pulling out my legs out of the pool to leave.

"I'm mortified of the things I've done and said to you," he says at last.

With surprise I turn to him, my legs slipping back inside the pool.

"I was mad at you... because you proved me right, that you weren't with me for me, you were with me because of that solution."

"That's not true!"

"But believing it was the truth was way easier... I'm sorry." His fingers jerkily shove up his glasses. "I-I didn't listen to you, I didn't give you a chance to explain, I walked away, I have no right to ask you to do something I didn't." he expels a shaky breath. "I can't talk to you because I'm too ashamed of myself. I'm not brave like you, but neither can I bear to see you with someone else. It hurts like fucking hell when Kristian holds you, or..." He closes his eyes and thrusts his fingers through his hair. "Everything would have been different if only I hadn't left."

"But you did and now you can't change the past... but-"

"I don't want to make things complicated for you."

"Telling the truth won't make things complicated."

"It will, Gracie. It will." He faces me and looks at me with exasperation. "I can't- I don't want to get in the way of you and your goal. Just because I was an idiot, I don't want you to even for one second consider giving up or risking what you've been working so hard on for five years because of me and my stupidies."

I stare at him with my mouth hanging open. He can't be serious.

"I'm sorry for everything I said to you. Sorry won't make up for it, nor will it ever be enough to show how much I regret the way I treated you... Gracie, I- what you did five years ago... I don't blame you for your decisions. Anyone in those circumstances would have done that. Perhaps they would've admitted the truth, but I understand why you didn't, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize. I'm sorry for being a coward and I'm sorry for hurting you..."

"Spencer," I murmur, tears burning my eyes.

"You have no idea how many times I had to stop myself from showing up at your doorstep in London. Or to not call you..." Timidly, he wraps his long fingers around my curled fists, and trains his gaze on our hands. My heart pounds as I watch him with wide eyes.

"Every second without you hurt, every heartbeat was torture, and even sleeping was painful, I couldn't get that night's images out of my head. But I deserved the pain," he whispers, his voice hoarse, carrying so much agony it breaks my heart.

"And I had no right to inflict more pain on you. I-I wasn't sure how you'd react and I wanted to let you recover without any stress. Maybe I shouldn't have come here, but I couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry."

"I wish you'd come sooner," I say in a broken voice.

His eyes, glossy with thick coats of tear, lock with mine. Gingerly he reaches for a strand of my hair and gently moves it away from my face. "I want you to be happy, Gracie. You deserve to be the happiest... and I've never been sure if I can really make you happy... I'm sorry I ended up hurting you. All I want is to see you happy, even if it means it has to be miles away from me," he says, his voice cracking.

A single tear escapes from my eyes, he tenderly brushes it away.

"Please don't cry," he quietly begs, keeping his on my cheek.

My chin quivers. "Spencer, why? It makes no sense." I hardly stop myself from crying as I search his eyes.

He softly moves aside a few strands of hair on my forehead.

"What if I'm the happiest with you?" I whimper.

"I can't give you the things you need-"

"You don't know what I need!" I cry, resting my hand atop his on my cheek. "Tell me what you want, and let me decide what I want."

His gaze bores into me for a long moment. A shift in his emotions. The way he's looking at me, the despair vanishes, and something strong burns in his dark blue irises. "Gracie, I lo-"

"Gracie!" Amanda's screeching voice from afar bursts the little bubble Spencer and I were in.

We jump away from each other. I whirl around and curse under my breath as I get to my feet. Ignoring my feet's wetness and the water dripping down my calves, I slip into my shoes.

For a beat Spencer and I hold each other's gaze, almost longingly until I hear Amanda's voice again and hurry away, not wanting her to come up here and see me with Spencer.

Though it pains me, I can't risk the contract for Spencer when he's not willing to fight for me and whatever that's between us.

❦ ♥︎ ❦

=)))) Spencer was so close to saying something, I wonder if you guys know what it was lmao xD

I really don't know why these sad chapters are taking forever, but like I need to complete Gracie and Spencer's character arches, so yeah, sorry :')

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts? =) I'd love to hear your thoughts on these two and the little talk by the pool.

Thanks for reading this chapter, hope you enjoyed it, press that star button if you did =)

I'll try my best to update tomorrow, but no promises because, I'm going to start updating my other story (Color Me Cerise, at last! lol) so yeah, let's see how it turns out =)

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡