13. Gabi
THIRTEEN
GABI
I stared at him. This man I’d met in a hurricane. The very night I’d been trying desperately not to remember as he’d sucked up all the air in the clinic with his very unwelcome presence. This man I’d let myself fall for, let myself build a future with in my mind, though we’d never overtly defined things between us. We’d started out a situationship and evolved into more. And it had been as natural as breathing. Maybe that should have been my first warning sign—nothing in my life had ever come that easily before. Not my career, not my relationships, not even finding my place back home in Hatterwick after being away for so long.
I’d thought we were on the same page. Then he’d proved I couldn’t have been more wrong, shattering my poor, trusting heart.
And now, here he was, dropping an apology that was so beyond overdue, I didn’t even know what to do with it.
“You’re sorry? You’re sorry.” I let out a harsh laugh. “Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” Because an apology wasn’t an apology without that.
“For hurting you. I made the wrong fucking choice. That’s for damned sure.”
It meant something for him to say that. To mean it. Regret was written all over the face I knew so well—those dark eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled at me, that strong jawline I’d traced with my fingertips countless times. The face I’d once thought I could read like a book. But it wasn’t enough. Not when I still felt raw from how thoroughly he’d blindsided me.
“You were offered that promotion, and you took it without even discussing it with me. You made the decision without taking me into account at all Either assuming I’d change the plans that I’d been talking to you about for months, or implying that my plans—that I—didn’t matter. Do you have any idea what that felt like, Daniel? To go from feeling like the center of your world to nothing at all?”
The ache that had faded these past several weeks to a manageable pain flared bright again as I fought back tears at all the wasted time and effort and dreams.
He set his plate aside so fast, half the food slid onto the floor. “Gabi, no. That’s not what I meant. Not at all what I intended.” He started to reach for me, then caught himself, tunneling both hands through his thick, dark hair. “I know my intention doesn’t mean fuck-all now. The reality is that I hurt you, and I never wanted to do that. I was pressured to make a decision real fast, and I went with impulse. I knew it was the wrong impulse pretty much the moment I had time to breathe. But by then, I was already on the damned plane and the damage to us was done.”
As if exhausted now, he braced his forearms on his knees and leaned toward me. “I was wrong in how I handled it. I was wrong in taking the promotion at all. So much so that I knew within a week of getting there. I missed you like crazy, and I hated Seattle. This southern boy does not need to live that far above the Mason-Dixon line. And it’s just—it took some doing to orchestrate a transfer to Nag’s Head so I could get over here to try to apologize and fix it.”
It was my turn to bobble my plate. “You’re stationed at Nag’s Head?” I’d wondered when I’d seen him yesterday, but I hadn’t let myself dwell on the possibility of what it could mean.
“Yeah. Kinda had to take a demotion to do it. But yeah.”
My heart started to pound. This was a big freaking deal. He’d made major changes that I hadn’t expected. Took a hit on the career I knew meant so much to him. And I didn’t know what any of it meant. I mean, he’d already declared he was here for me. He’d changed his life to put me first. To repair what he’d so carelessly broken, even though he didn’t know what my current position was or whether I’d forgive him at all.
This was huge.
And I had no idea how I felt about it.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Well, I wanted to prove I was serious before I came to grovel and apologize. I know I’m falling down on the groveling portion of the program, but I can work on that. The essential point here is that I love you, Gabi. I’m in love with you, and I miss the hell out of you. Of us.”
My breath caught. Love. He loved me. The word I’d bitten back a hundred times during our time together, afraid of scaring him off, afraid of being too much. The word that had threatened to spill out when he’d hold me close after a long shift, or when we’d dance in his kitchen to old jazz records, or when we lay curled in bed together, talking long into the night.
I’d known I loved him for months before he’d left. Had ached with it, carried it like a burning coal in my chest that both warmed and scorched me. But we’d never said the words. Never crossed that line that would’ve made everything real instead of existing in that undefined space between casual and committed.
Now here he sat, speaking the words that would’ve changed everything back then. The words that might’ve made me fight harder when he’d announced his transfer to Seattle. Might’ve made him reconsider taking it in the first place.
My fingers trembled against the paper plate in my lap. The remains of our impromptu hurricane picnic blurred as tears threatened. Because I still loved him. God help me, I’d never stopped. I’d buried it deep, tried to forget, tried to move on, but seeing him again had ripped open all those wounds I’d done my best to stitch closed.
But love wasn’t always enough. Sometimes timing was everything. And our timing had been spectacularly wrong before. The question was whether it was right now.
He shifted, drawing in a breath that told me he wasn’t finished. That there was more he needed to say.
“I want another chance. I know I don’t deserve one. I know it’s gonna take a long time to earn back your trust, to prove that I’ve changed and won’t do the same thing again. That I won’t take you for granted. But despite all that, I’m here. To earn my way back into your good graces, whatever, however much it takes.”
I’d spent so much of the past few months trying to put Daniel LaRue out of my mind. To focus on my own plans for the future. On the clinic and coming home to my family and the island that had always held my heart. But a piece of me had still been in New Orleans, mourning the personal future I’d been forced to give up.
Suddenly, that future was no longer out of reach. He was here , claiming to love me. A man willing and ready to do the hard work with no guarantee of success. That was a heady offer. One that a part of me wanted to leap for. But leaping without looking had been how I got into this mess in the first place, and I was nothing if not a woman who learned from her mistakes.
Was there room for him in my life here?
For all that I’d been very transparent with him about my intention to come back to join the clinic here, we’d never discussed a future where he came with me. In a sense, I’d assumed as much as he had. But my assumption was that we were on the same page. That he’d want to follow me here. Make a life here. I wanted to believe I’d have discussed it with him before making firm plans. That was the difference between us, wasn’t it? I believed in talking things through, in careful planning and mutual decisions. Maybe that’s why his unilateral choice to take the Seattle position had hurt so much, even though I’d already been planning my return to Hatterwick. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Nag’s Head was two hours north by boat. While that was a damned sight closer than Seattle, it still wasn’t close. Unless he’d been hiding some secret billionaire status and had a helicopter at his disposal, his job still wasn’t commutable distance. He couldn’t live here any more than I could or would move up there. Which left us where, exactly? Even accounting for good weather and the fastest ferry service available, the math didn’t work. A four-hour round trip commute would be brutal for anyone, let alone someone in the military who needed to be alert and ready for emergencies. Daniel’s dedication to his Coast Guard duties had always been admirable, but even he couldn’t bend the laws of geography and time.
I realized I’d let the silence go on too long when he rubbed at the back of his neck.
“I’m realizing now I made another grave miscalculation, because you’ve had every opportunity and right to move on with somebody else. And I’ve changed my world again without consulting you.” One corner of his mouth quirked in a wry smile that I wanted to taste. “It felt like an appropriately grand gesture at the time. Sorry ’bout that.”
It was a grand gesture. I’d learned long ago that talk was cheap. A person’s actions told you where they really stood. He claimed to love me, and he’d moved heaven and earth to get here to tell me. To prove it. That meant something. It meant everything.
Come on, girl. You miss him, and you love him, too. Are you really going to let a little thing like logistics get in the way of this?