I'm standing in front of Gray's home, and it looks so picturesque even in the faint light of the faraway morning sun. The door shines nicely with a ruby red apple paint and freshly planted hydrangeas adorn the steps leading inside. It's absolutely beautiful, a house that is loved and cared for in every single way. It doesn't seem right to see this shining masterpiece shrouded in a cloud of sadness and loss. It was 3:18 AM when I heard Gray's truck speed out of our little cul-de-sac and race away like a madman, shaking me to my core and sending my heart racing. Something was wrong, except I had no idea what.

It wasn't until Gray texted me at 3:25 AM, mere minutes after I watched his truck zoom away, that I knew what had happened. Those two words danced around in my mind for the longest time, making my throat dry and my eyes water, the news like a pill hard to swallow.

Tessa died.

It was unfathomable. The happiest dog on the planet wasn't here anymore. And why? Why did she, like so many other wonderful people in this world, have to leave? Tessa didn't deserve to die. She was supposed to live forever, but living forever is impossible. I learned that all too soon in my life, learned that forever is only in fairytales. We all die at some point, whether it's in a horrible car accident or because your body couldn't last another day.

I knock on the well polished red door, hoping somebody will answer me. It's 4:15 AM, almost an hour since she was declared dead.

I realize now why Gray tried so hard to comfort me. Gray knew I couldn't be alone with my thoughts any longer. He knew it was too dangerous for me to fall into that rabbit hole of sadness and grief. He pulled me out of it just when I was about to be lost forever. Gray needs me now, and I need to be there for him before he falls into that rabbit hole.

And there he is, standing right in front of me, dried tears hiding under his dirty glasses. His blond hair is a mess of tangles and desperately needs to be brushed, but I can tell he doesn't care. The moment he looks at me with those big glistening green eyes, he collapses, except I'm right there for him to fall into my arms.

***

"I don't know how I'd manage to get through this without you, Paris."

"After all you've done for me, it's the least I could do," I respond before making him take another sip of water, not wanting him to get dehydrated. Gray reluctantly sips at the glass, before nestling his head into my underarm, snuggling his bare feet under the fluffy comforter of his bed. I look at the empty corner of the bed and bite my lip, remembering how that was Tessa's spot on the bed.

"How am I going to sleep without her?" Gray asks, shedding some more tears as he notices me staring at her spot.

"You'll have me - to hold you and keep you warm at night. I'll always be here for you, Gray."

He sobs when I say this, but I attempt to calm him down, swaying him slowly back and forth, my arm around his back. I lightly kiss his forehead and soothe him with a soft, "shhhhhh," and his wailing gradually dissipates, turning into quiet snoring. My baby's asleep, and I follow shortly thereafter, lack of sleep catching up to both of us.

***

When we wake up, it's almost 1 PM. Both of us are still reeling from everything that's happened, but a greater sense of calm has washed over us, especially Gray, who is actually up to have some lunch.

I go downstairs and peruse the cabinets, searching for something in particular. Soon I find it, hiding behind an unopened bag of sugar and some salt shakers. There's a whole stack of them there, boxes and boxes of mac & cheese - every kid's favorite comfort food.

***

I return a few minutes later with two bowls of mac & cheese and ice-cold water, which makes Gray roll his eyes and let out a chuckle - a victory in my mind. I'm glad to see his wonderful smile again, the shining white teeth gleaming in the afternoon light pouring out from his window. He welcomes a few bites of the mac & cheese and I instruct him to stay hydrated. We sit there in quiet, but all Gray needs right now is somebody beside him, holding his hand and leading him through everything that's happening. He will grieve, there's no stopping sorrow, but if I can help alleviate that sorrow even a little tiny bit, I'm going to.

As soon as we're done with lunch, I go into the bathroom and draw a bath, dropping in a turquoise bath bomb that sends a scent of ocean breeze permeating through the room. Gray likes the idea of a bath and I lure him into the bathroom, grabbing him a change of clothes while he undresses and gets in the steaming water. When I come back, Gray is staring aimlessly into the aquamarine bathwater, unable to remove his stare no matter how many times I say his name, hoping to wake him from this turbulent slumber in the void. He can't go to that place, the place nobody should go to, the place my Dad lives in, the place I was moments away from living in.

In desperation, I reach for Gray's face and caress his cheek, pulling his pale skin closer to me. He looks so emotionless in the bright bathroom lighting that washes out all the color left in his gorgeous face. I hate to see him like this, realizing this must've been how I looked for so many days before I let myself open up to him. Now I crave for Gray to open up to me, to let out all his feelings and be honest with me. I hope he doesn't shut me out like I shut him out time and time again. I can't live without Gray in my life.

To keep him from zoning out again, I help him soap up, soaking my hands in the bathwater and lathering his body - rubbing my hands down his back, around his arms, and across his chest, outlining the gorgeous tattoo on his shoulder, every petal, every stroke of the pink triangle. A few times my elbows slip and Gray catches me, stopping me from falling into the tub and making a mess of the bathroom. He giggles every time, and I smile along with him. His mood lightens up the more we talk, taking our minds off of Tessa and instead focusing on other things. We talk about how spectacular New York City is, and Gray tells me all about Times Square and biking through Manhattan. He dreams of taking me there one day, of showing me around his city and catching all the incredible talent on Broadway. He starts to smile more, and I help him rinse his hair, running my trembling fingers through his wavy blond locks, the shampoo foaming and bubbling around his head. My hands are covered in foam and I can't help but blow on it, watching the bubbles fly around the bathroom, most of them landing in the bathtub, some of them falling on the tile floor. Gray laughs at me and gazes into my shimmering brown eyes. While I'm staring back into his emerald green eyes, he takes me by surprise, slipping his shaking hands in mine, wrapping his fingers in between my own, the thin layer of shampoo acting as the only layer between our skin.

"I love you, Paris. I hope you know that."

"I know, Gray, because I love you too."

Before I know it, Gray's arms are wrapped around my torso, and I don't even care that his wet hands are soaking through my t-shirt. At that moment, I see a side of Gray I haven't seen before. It's a vulnerability I wish he would've been comfortable enough to show me before. Gray has always been my rock. I've always leaned on him because I had nobody else. I realize that Gray needs me just as much as I need him. All this time, he's been my support system. Now, he needs me to be his support system, and I'm happy to be that for him.