Chapter 17
Showing Up
Andi
The diner wasn't fancy. Just a neighborhood spot in Southie with cracked vinyl booths and coffee that came in thick white mugs.
I'd suggested it when Gavin texted asking where to meet.
If we were going to do this, it wasn't going to be at some romantic café where the lighting made everything look softer than it was.
I got there first. Slid into a booth near the back and ordered coffee I didn't want.
My phone buzzed.
Gavin: Parking. Be there in 2 minutes.
I stared at the message. All week, his texts had followed this new pattern—brief updates, no pressure.
"Working late tonight." "Having drinks with Matt from work.
" "At orientation for Charisse's basketball summer camp that starts in a few weeks.
" "Wish you were here." He was present without crowding me.
Before, his messages had been sporadic, an afterthought.
Now each one felt deliberate, like he was laying down breadcrumbs, hoping I might follow them back to him.
The bell over the door chimed, a tinny sound that cut through the diner's clatter of silverware and murmured conversations. I looked up and my breath caught in my throat like something physical, a knot I couldn't swallow past. There he was, his familiar shape making my heart almost stutter.
As he scanned the room, I took the time to study him.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes; his cheeks hollowed from what must have been sleepless nights.
Then our gazes locked across the diner, and the change was instant—his exhaustion melted away, replaced by something that looked dangerously close to hope. He headed toward the booth.
"Hey," he said when he reached the table.
"Hey."
He slid into the seat across from me. The server appeared immediately with coffee, filled his mug, topped off mine, and took our orders. We both waited until she left.
The silence stretched between us. His fingers played with the half and half containers while he was clearly trying to figure out where to start.
"I've missed you," he said finally. His voice was rough. "God, Andi, I've missed you so much."
My throat tightened. "Gavin—"
"I know. I know that's not enough. I know missing you doesn't fix anything.
But I needed you to know." He wrapped his hands around his mug but didn't drink.
"This time apart, it’s been hell. Waking up and not being able to talk to you.
Seeing something funny and not being able to share it with you.
Making coffee and remembering how you like yours.
" He looked at me. "I didn't realize how much of my life was you until you weren't in it anymore. "
I blinked hard. "You did that. You're the one who made me feel like I didn't matter."
"Andi, I'll never forgive myself for hurting you that way, and I know 'sorry' isn't enough, but I need you to know the truth.
" He leaned forward. "When I introduced you as my friend that night—all those months when I’d kept you separate from everything—it was never because you weren't enough. It took me some time to realize that I’d fit myself so easily into your life and I hadn’t realized that I never fit you into mine. "
"That doesn't make it better. And it doesn’t help me understand the why."
"I know it doesn't. But it's the truth." His eyes didn't leave mine. "I don't think I ever really shared with you that you were my first and only relationship after my divorce."
Shocked by this, I reared back. "No. Really? Why have you never said anything?"
He looked down at his hands, still fiddling with the half-and-half plastic containers.
Rolling one of them between his thumb and fingers.
"We didn't end well. I’d come home early from work one day—I’d made plans with a babysitter so we could get dinner together.
" He swallowed hard. "The closet was half-empty.
Her things were gone." His eyes lifted to mine, resignation written across his face.
"Turns out, she’d been seeing David for over a year by then.
Charisse was barely walking when it started. "
His voice dropped so low I had to lean in.
"I'm not even sure I processed that emotionally for a couple of years.
She married him a week after our divorce.
" He pushed everything on the table off to the side and reached for my hands. "It broke me. Until you, Andi. Eight years later and you were this light in the darkness I hadn’t even realized I’d been surrounded by. "
I stared at him, my hands trapped beneath his on the table. "Eight years? Gavin, why didn’t I know this? I had no idea."
"I know. I should have told you. I really don’t know—" His thumb traced small circles on the back of my hand. "No. I don’t think that’s right.
I think. I think I didn’t say because I was embarrassed.
Ashamed, maybe. That I'd been so blind. That I didn’t know.
And when I did, that I let it control my decisions for so long. "
"It wasn’t your fault, though."
"Wasn't it?" His laugh was bitter. "I worked late. Traveled for projects. Even with Charisse so young. Told myself I was building something for our family. And the whole time, she was building something with someone else."
The server returned with our breakfasts. We both pulled back, waited while she set down plates neither of us had asked for but both needed the distraction of. When she left, Gavin picked up his fork but didn't eat.
"After the divorce, I told myself I was fine," he continued. "I had Charisse. I had work. That was enough. And then I met you and—" He shook his head. "Everything changed. You made me laugh. Made me feel like maybe I could do this again. Be with someone again."
"So you kept me hidden? How does that even—" I broke off, shook my head, and looked away.
"I think I was terrified. Shit excuse, I know.
" The words came fast now, like he'd been holding them back for days.
"I was terrified of Charisse getting attached and then losing you if things didn't work out.
Terrified of Rebecca finding out and using it against me in custody.
Terrified of—" He stopped. Started again.
"Terrified of falling in love with you and having it all fall apart again. "
My chest ached. "So you just... kept me at arm's length."
"I thought if I kept things compartmentalized, I could control it. Keep you safe. Keep Charisse safe. Keep myself safe." He finally met my eyes. "But all I did was hurt you. And I'm so, so sorry for that."
I put my fork down, not all that interested in eating. I was quiet but firm when I said, "You should have told me. About Rebecca. About being scared. About all of it."
"I know."
"Instead, you just... erased me. Made me feel like I was your dirty little secret."
"You were never that." His voice cracked slightly. "You were the opposite. You were this bright, beautiful thing in my life and I was so scared of screwing it up that I screwed it up, anyway."
I started to pick at my pancakes, not really seeing them, but needing something to do with my hands. "What changed? Why now?"
"Because I realized that keeping you separate wasn't protecting anyone.
I was a coward. What changed is the abject terror in the possibility of losing you.
Hindsight is always 20/20. My hindsight was fucking terrifying.
" He leaned forward. "And these last days without you—Andi, they’ve been unbearable.
A picture of what life could be like without having you is something I would do anything to keep from becoming a reality.
I wake up reaching for my phone to text or call you.
I see something and think, 'Andi would love this,' and then remember I can't experience it with you. I’ve actually placed an order for dinner and included your favorites. "
"Gavin—"
"Fuck. I’m so scared to even say this. I'm afraid that if I say it, you're going to think it's because I'm just trying to keep you.
But I want you to know, what I'm about to tell you is because I can't imagine going through life not having told you this. And you deserve to have everything laid out on the table.”
I was holding my breath and didn’t even realize it. Whatever he had to say, I wasn’t sure I was even in a place to hear it, but I knew I’d want to know. I didn’t want secrets anymore. I was so tired of fucking secrets. So I sat back and gave him my attention.
"I'm in love with you, Andi." The words came out rough, like he hadn't planned them.
"I've been in love with you for months. I don't know exactly when it happened.
I just know you're the first person I think about when I wake up.
You're the one I want to tell when something good happens. When something terrible happens. When anything happens. You’re it for me. "
Tears pricked at my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but it was impossible to keep at least one from escaping. "You can't just say all this and expect it to fix everything."
"I don't. I know it's not enough. I know sorry doesn't cut it. I know loving you isn’t enough.
But I needed you to know." He reached across the table again, palm up this time.
An invitation, not a demand. "You asked me to prove it.
To show you that you matter. And I'm going to.
But first, I needed you to understand why.
Not as an excuse—there is no excuse. But as context.
You deserved to know what you walked into.
What I was too much of a coward to tell you before. "
I looked at his outstretched hand. At the vulnerability written across his face. At the exhaustion that spoke of sleepless nights that mirrored my own.
"I don't know how to trust what you’re telling me," I whispered.