I pay the driver and get out of the car.

The rain has grown worse and as I stand in front of the building, trying to find the smallest amount of willpower to go home, it drenches me. The sky rumbles and another lightning strikes.

I crane my neck and watch the dark, cloudy sky. The raindrops splash on my glasses and I close my eyes, inhaling deeply, welcoming the icy rain on my face.

The ache in my jaw has turned to a dull throbbing, and my mind is still trying to flee from considering the possibilities of things not going smoothly back inside the operating room.

I plod into the building, leaving a wet, muddy trail behind me. The guy behind the desk jumps to his feet. His eyes widen with surprise, but I wave him off and walk into the elevator.

Even though I'm drained, my brain doesn't stop throwing Gracie's hurt face to the forefront of my mind. Everything and anything remindes me of her, forcing me to think about her.

I'm numb, at least physically, I think. I can't feel my body and my limbs are moving of their own accord. But in my head... it's anything but numb. Anger, pain, hurt, disgust, and frustration whirl and crush me.

I unlock the door and step inside.

Before I can shut the door, Julia with a pitched voice demands, "Where have you been?"

The door shuts with a faint click and I turn to face.

Her eyes travel from my head to toe too many times as she opens and closes her mouth more than I can count. "Care to explain?"

I walk past her and throw the keys on the sofa.

"Spencer!" she shouts. "What the hell!"

I don't stop and trudge into the bedroom and straight to the bathroom. I lock its door, ignoring Julia's screeching voice from the other side, demanding answers.

With a sigh and take off my clothes and turn on the shower, standing under the lukewarm water. I close my eyes, letting the sound of running water drown Julia's voice.

No matter how hard I try to focus on the sense of the water on my skin, I fail. Unmoving I keep my eyes shut until my thoughts quiet down and no longer Gracie's hurt face is staring at me.

It would've been great if it were possible to wash away the pain. It would've made everything so much easier.

I stay in the shower long enough to be sure I have a moderate amount of control over myself before stepping out and putting on fresh clothes.

Yet I don't feel any better when I leave the bathroom and thread across the bedroom.

With a sharp inhale I prepare myself for Julia's onslaught of inquiries.

The second I step foot into the living area, Julia raises to her feet, round the sofas and stands across from me, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"What the fuck!" She shakes her head and rakes her hand through her hair before planting them on her hips. "This is unbelievable. I've been worried sick, and you don't even bother to answer me. Where were you until now? Do you know what time you got back?"

My frown deepens. Her voice is unbearably high and drills into my brain. As I stand in front of her, barely keeping myself upright, it dawns on me, I can no longer put up with her.

She's too much for me.

Keeping her in my life is a mistake.

"Are you going to even say anything?" she screams and I cringe.

When did her voice get so annoying?

Fuming, she waves her hand at me, her cheeks flushing red from anger. "Were you in a fight? And why were you drenched? Where were you, Spencer?"

I rub my forehead and expel a deep breath. "Gracie had an accident," I surprisingly manage to say in a calm tone.

She crosses her arms in front of her chest, raising her eyebrows.

Annoyance pricks my self-control. "I was in the hospital."

She squints at me. "Why didn't you call to tell me?"

Incredulously I stare at her. She can't be serious!

"And why did you stay? She has her fiancé, her mom, and her brother. Why did you stick around?"

My mouth stays agape.

"What!" She lifts her shoulders. "And what's going to happen to the wedding? They'll postpone theirs, but what will happen to ours?"

"Are you even hearing yourself?" I bark. She opens her mouth to reply, but I don't let her. "She might not make it! And you all you care about is your stupid wedding!"

"My stupid wedding! What is wrong with you! I don't even understand why you stayed around. She's no one to you. Why are you acting like this!"

I shove my hands through my hair and spin around, marching straight into my study. Julia calls my name repeatedly but I pay her no heed and lock the door.

She twists the doorknob multiple times, and when the door doesn't budge, she starts screaming profanities.

Heaving a sigh, without flicking the lights on, I cross the room and plop down on my chair, take off my glasses and lay my forehead on my desk.

Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply, letting the good days I shared with Gracie flit through my mind. My heart clenches painfully and a frightening yearning settles inside me.

Her voice, her eyes, her smile, her laughter. I miss them so much already... and what if I won't ever get to see or hear any of them again?

Never in my life have I felt as desperate as I do now.

The urge to have someone, preferably Gracie herself, tell me everything will be fine, that it'll work out is messing me up.

At this point, I have no right to wish to stay a part of Gracie's life. No, not at all. But before vanishing from her life, I need to make sure she doesn't let my stupid words haunt her.

My lungs constrict and the agonizing need to fill the void brewing inside me, begging for some form of contact with Gracie wrecks me apart.

I pick up my head from the desk and my gaze drops to the small wooden cabinet in the corner of the room. Despite my years' long effort, I give in to the temptation.

Unsteadily I get to my feet, find the key, and reach the cabinet, inserting the key in the keyhole. My hand quivers as I unlock it and stare at the far-end corner of it.

My old phone.

Hesitantly I grab my phone and turn it on. Crawling back to my desk, I sit on the floor and lean to the side of the desk.

The phone comes to life, and the screen washes me in its sharp glow. Tentatively, I tab the photos app, and the few pictures remaining on my phone are all Gracie.

I tap the first one and it takes up the entire screen. Half of her short is out of the so-called bun, cascading around her face, her focus is glued to the papers in front of her as she works through the solution.

The pain in the back of my throat makes it harder to breathe and my already blurry vision gets worse with the tears stinging my eyes.

I clench my jaw and plant my free hand's elbow on my crossed legs' thigh and rest my chin on my palm. I gaze at her picture like it's the first time I'm seeing it. Though I don't want to even think about the long, unhealthy hours I spent staring at it whenever my heart ruled out my brain.

I scroll to the other picture, the one she's busy adjusting the flowers she has bought and put inside a vase, atop the dining table.

We were so happy.

Fundamentally, what we were doing was wrong. Our relationship was wrong from its very core, yet we were happy.

My life had never been that good, and after I left her, it never reached that peak again.

I knew her situation all along. I had my doubts from the very beginning. In fact, from the second she told me she wanted to work on Reimann, in the corner of my head, I always had the thought she might have gone through my stuff and stumbled across that damn problem.

A hot tear rolls down my face and splatters on the screen.

Somewhere deep within me, I had made up my mind we would never work out. She had been rich her entire life, and it wasn't hard to tell she'd do anything to return to her old lifestyle. Though I admired her determination, I knew our worlds were miles apart.

Perhaps that's what made it more enticing.

Gracie Stewart was the epitome of someone far out of grasp, a prospect one could pretend to be close to be never truly and wholly obtain.

At some point, I was always certain when the thrill dies away for her, she'd leave me.

Maybe that's why I left her without a second of hesitation when the truth came out... in a sick self-preservation reaction.

If I consider it like that, maybe I never really trusted her, always anticipating a form of betrayal from her.

I squeeze my eyes shut and draw in a deep shaky breath.

I was convinced we'd never last... that's why I never tried to make it work.

That's the reason why I left her without a moment of hesitation, without once looking back, without even thinking about forgiving her.

Gazing down at her picture, my heart aches and a strong surge of regret cuts through me, releasing a steady stream of tears. My lungs are burning and the anguish rocks my body.

It'd be a lie if I claim her actions didn't hurt my ego.

I zoom in on her face and clench my teeth to suppress the sob building in the back of my throat.

Is maintaining ego more important than one's emotions?

Does ego come before love?

It did for me.

I was too stubborn and hurt to make peace with the fact she has somewhat used me.

I didn't bother to listen and take into account when she said it was her initial plan and it changed as the time went on and she got to know me.

By no means am I justifying her actions... just that, not forgiving her, not listening to her, not even trying to work on the problem, and perhaps fixing it, moving on from it, wasn't entirely right either.

For a man who claims he once cared for me, maybe even loved me, your actions are surely in contradiction with your words.

Her voice echoes in my head and the gut-wrenching agony intensifies.

I'm an awful person, but I never would've done this to you.

I press my palm to my forehead and curl into myself, crying like a fucking baby.

She's right, goddammit, she's right.

I'm the one who started this shitshow, I'm the one who always insulted her, I'm the one who made everything harder for her by fuelling William's distrust.

She only held her ground and fought back whenever I struck.

I hurled all sorts of stupid words at her just because I couldn't get a grip over my emotions regarding her. I hurt her time and time again because I was mad at myself for still having feelings for her.

Look where that got us.

Where it got her.

What's the use of regretting now?

Nothing will be the way it was before.

And I weep because that's all I can do.

Even if Gracie and I had a sliver of a chance, I destroyed it.

I don't know for how long I mourn everything I could've had, but lost because of my own stupidities. When I manage to calm down, and lean to the desk, pulling my legs to myself, I scroll through the voicemails.

Every single one she ever sent. I wanted to delete them without even listening, but I couldn't. The number of times I've listened to each is embarrassingly too high.

I used to listen to them obsessively.

Whenever I missed her voice, which was quite often. Early on it turned into a habit. So much as I'd wait for her to call and for it to go to voicemail, just so I can hear her ramble on about her day. I'd listen to it on repeat for forty-eight hours until the next came.

I still remember how it put me off the first time she didn't call after forty-eight hours. I would check my phone every five minutes just in case. When the fourth day came, and still no voice messages from her, it scared me shitless, I was almost tempted to reach out and make sure she's fine.

On the sixth day, I gave in and asked Savannah to visit Kathryn and ask about Gracie, to ensure nothing's wrong.

A part of me was mad when I found out she's fine yet has stopped sending these voicemails.

Another part of me was desperate for something, anything from her.

But when after two weeks I finally got a new message from her, it flipped my world upside down.

I refused to believe her words, but when I was down in the pits of my misery, I'd listen to it. I'd play it whenever I missed her unbearably. Whenever I couldn't stand lying in bed, having an entire side vacant. The times I missed her touch, her scent, her voice.

But when I heard it for the first time, all I wanted to do was toss aside my bruised ego and shattered trust and run back to her.

But at that time, I had convinced myself Gracie was a parasite I had to get rid of, no matter how impossibly hard it seemed.

I was a coward, unwilling to risk and go down the path of trusting the fate of my heart and soul in her hands.

Actions speak louder than words.

Why did I refuse to note her actions rather than her words?

Deep down, I know the way she looked at me, clung to me, and how her face would light up over the smallest of things when we were together couldn't have all been an act.

I wasn't blind, but I chose to turn a blind eye. It was easier to believe my doubts and fears were valid from the start rather than entertaining the possibility of working things out with her... just so she'd leave me later on.

Fucking stupid. That's what I am.

Even though I can still recite each of the messages, word by word, I tab the play icon on the voicemail and press my phone to my ear as I rest the back of my head on the desk. Closing my eyes, for a hopeless moment let myself imagine Gracie's sitting right next to me.

"Hi!" Her cheerful voice, tugs my mouth to smile. The pain ripping through my insides is what I assume how being stabbed nonstop would feel like.

"It's me again." She giggles and I release a slow shaky sigh, my chest constricting, the back of my throat aches from my vain attempts at trying to not break down again.

"But you obviously know that... did you notice I had been a good girl for two whole weeks?"

I squeeze my eyes as she waits, as though expecting me to answer. Fresh tears roll down my cheeks.

"I didn't call... it was hard." Her voice is so soft and small and the image from tonight right before she left the Judy Corp's building flashes in my mind.

"I don't even know if you're listening to this or not." A small breathy laugh comes from her end and I'd give the world just to be able to see it one more time. "I don't even know which one I'd prefer, so I won't think about it."

I can't help the stupid smile, it's what she always did, her go-to way of handling her problems. I shake my head and wipe away the moister from my face, while a faint sound from her end comes, like something from glass slamming to the ground.

"I wonder if you miss me," she speaks glumly. I do, Gracie, I do...

"Is it a bad thing I want you to miss me? Because I do... I really really really miss you... though I don't want you to be hurting Not at all... I'm the bad guy, I have to be the one who hurts and I am hurting. Life sucks without you." Her voice breaks and the pain in her words shred me to pieces.

"Spencer, do you hate me?"

I shake my head, as though she can see it. I wish she could. I wish I had the chance to tell her I don't hate, that I'm so fucking sorry for making her think I do, for treating her so poorly. After tonight, I doubt I'll ever be able to look her in the eyes.

"It's been an entire month since the last time I've seen you... and it feels sooo much longer," she slurs and I purse my mouth to stop my chin from quivering. Indistinct shuffling noise comes from her end before she continues, "I know you don't believe me... I know you think I'm a liar and I am, I lie a lot. But I swear I'm not lying right now, I wasn't faking it. Okay, I planned on seducing you and I did move with the plan but I swear the rest wasn't planned. I really really wanted you."

I shove my fingers through my hair. What she did was so wrong... but was it unforgivable too?

She changed her mind halfway along the way... and if she's wrong for me, her actions inexcusable, shouldn't my life be better without her in it?

Then why it never got even near the way it was when she was around?

"I fell for you..." she says in a wavering voice. My brows furrow and I gaze straight ahead.

"Spencer, I love you."

I gasp at the sudden jolt of pain crushing me from within.

"I love you so so so much." She sobs and it shatters the little control I have over myself, breaking me down too.

"I know I should have told you sooner, but I was scared. It was all so new and overwhelming and strong... I'm sorry I didn't say it on time. I'm sorry for all the things I should have said but I didn't."

I shake my head and clutch the phone tighter as I silently cry.

She's been apologizing since day one.

Was her action so bad I couldn't, not even once, consider forgiving her? No. It wasn't.

How else was she supposed to tell me she regrets what she did? She's just a human... and humans make mistakes.

I was so angry and lost in my own miserable world, I refused to see the reality.

"I love you, Spencer. I love you. Please forgive me... Please come back, I need you. I promise I won't ever lie to you; I won't ever do anything to break your trust again... please. I love you."

Shedding tears in silent agony, with the muffled sound of her cries, I give in.

"I love you, Gracie, I love you," I whimper. And I'm sorry it took me so long to admit it and accept it. I'm sorry... I love you.

❦ ♥︎ ❦

Hi! =) I'm so sorry for the delay. Guys, these chapters are soooo hard to write. They mentally drain and exhaust me way beyond what I initially expected!

So, I don't know if you guys remember these parts from The Solution, but yeah, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and it didn't bore you guys =) Do vote if you enjoyed <3

I'm sorry if this chapter felt flat or anything, but I just felt it was necessary to show his arch. He's finally realising maybe he should've considered forgoing her, and working on their problem instead of being the way he was for so long.

Tell me if you agree or not, and if you think this arch is okay for Spencer =) I'd love to hear your thoughts.

The next chapter (surprisingly) is ready (because it was supposed to be a part of this but after I pasted it here I realised it was too long, so cut it in half). I don't feel like updating these 2 at the same time. So the next chapter will be up in 4-5 hrs from now =) And Yes, it's again in Spencer's POV.

Thanks for reading ^.^

Stay safe, lots of love, happy reading ♡