Chapter 19
A Start
Andi
I saw it happen through the window the moment I walked through the door. Rebecca's hands on his face. Her body leaning into his. The moment before the kiss—that split second where everything could go one way or the other.
And then Gavin jerked back like he'd been burned.
My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. I made my way past the hostess stand; the cool air-conditioned space a shock after the heat outside. The hostess had tried to greet me, but I walked past her, my eyes locked on the scene unfolding near the window.
Rebecca was still too close to him. Still touching him. And Gavin's face—God, the look on his face. Shock. Disgust. Anger. For half a second, the old instinct stirred—step back, make space, let history take what it wanted. I held my ground.
"What the hell are you doing?" His voice carried across the half-empty restaurant.
"Reminding you," Rebecca said, breathless but still loud enough that I could hear. "Reminding you of what we had. What we could—"
"I was wondering the same thing."
The words came out of me before I'd planned them. Cool. Controlled. Like my hands weren't shaking. Like I hadn't just watched his ex-wife try to kiss him.
They both froze. Gavin turned, and the expression that crossed his face when he saw me standing there—relief and hope and just a bit of anxiety.
"Andi." My name came out rough. Like a prayer.
I looked at him. Then at Rebecca. Really looked at her.
She was decked out in a stunning dress with a neckline that dipped just low enough to be noticeable, and her hair fell in those perfect waves that take an hour to achieve.
She was the kind of put-together that doesn’t happen by accident.
The already half-empty wineglass sat on the table; candles flickered despite being early afternoon, and soft music played in the background.
This wasn't the setup for discussing summer camp schedules.
This was Rebecca staging a reconciliation.
My hand extended toward Rebecca, steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.
I felt my lips curve into the same smile I used with snobby, over the top customers, the one that had just a tiny bit of cold in it.
My pulse hammered in my throat as I stepped forward, heels clicking against the tile floor.
"Hi. I'm Andi. Gavin's girlfriend." I held my palm out, hovering in the space between us, keeping my voice pleasant.
Professional. "You must be Rebecca. I've heard so much about you. You can let go of him now."
Rebecca's hands dropped from Gavin's shoulders. She stepped back, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't quite process what was happening. Then something shifted in her expression. Calculation replacing shock.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice taking on this wounded quality. "Who are you, exactly? Gavin, is this woman harassing us? We're trying to have a private conversation about our daughter."
"Private conversation?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you call accosting someone in the middle of a restaurant?"
"I wasn't—" She turned to Gavin, eyes wide. "Gavin, I don't know what she thinks she saw, but we were just talking. About Charisse. And then this woman shows up making accusations—"
"Stop!" Gavin's voice cut through her performance. "Just stop, Rebecca."
"I'm only trying to—"
"You tried to kiss me." He took a step away from her. "After I told you I'm in a relationship. After I made it clear, we're here to discuss custody and nothing else. You just tried to kiss me."
Rebecca's face flushed. "That's not—I was just—we have history, Gavin. We have a daughter together. Surely you can understand that emotions run high when we're discussing her future—"
"Don't," his jaw was tight. "Don't use Charisse as an excuse for this."
"I'm not making excuses. I'm trying to explain to your.
.. friend... that she's misreading the situation.
" Rebecca turned to me, her smile sharp.
"I don't know what Gavin has told you about our relationship, but we share a child.
That creates a bond that doesn't just go away because he's dating someone new. "
The way she said "dating someone new" made it sound temporary. Disposable.
I crossed my arms. "You're right. You and Gavin share a daughter. Which is why you're having lunch to discuss her summer schedule. Not why you're trying to seduce him at an overpriced restaurant."
"Seduce him?" Rebecca laughed, but it sounded forced. "That's a bit dramatic, don't you think? We were having a conversation. I touched his arm. It's hardly—"
"You had your hands on his face." I kept my voice level. Calm. "You leaned in to kiss him. And he pulled away. I saw the whole thing."
"Then you saw wrong." She turned to Gavin. "Tell her. Tell her she's being ridiculous."
Gavin looked at me. Then at Rebecca. When he spoke, his voice was quiet but firm.
"This is a ridiculous conversation. Are you delusional?
You clearly tried to kiss me, Rebecca. And I pushed you away.
Because I'm with Andi. I love Andi. And whatever you thought was going to happen here today, it's not happening. "
Rebecca's face went pale. Then red. "You love her?"
"Yes."
"You barely know her."
"You have no idea how well I know her. And it’s completely irrelevant to you and to our parenting relationship.
" He moved closer to me. Not touching, but the distance between us shrinking.
"But, because I will be introducing Charisse to her as my girlfriend soon, you should know that Andi is patient and kind.
She is enterprising and ambitious. She makes me laugh, and I look forward to the day ahead every time I get to see her.
She deserves better than me, and I'm trying to be what she deserves. "
"We have a child together." Rebecca's voice was shaking now. "We could have a family again. For Charisse's sake. Don't you want that? Don't you want her to have both her parents together?"
"Charisse has both her parents." Gavin's voice was still calm, but there was steel underneath. "She has us as co-parents. That's all we're ever going to be."
"So you're choosing her?" Rebecca gestured at me. "Some woman you've known for six months over your daughter's mother? Over the possibility of giving Charisse a real family?"
"Rebecca. Our marriage has been over for more years than it lasted—what's done is done. Why you think we could be anything more is beyond me." Gavin looked at her directly. "I’m not choosing Andi over you. You were never in the damned running. It’s only Andi and only will be Andi. You’ve got to cut this shit out. "
Rebecca's hands clenched at her sides. "Fine.
Fine. If that's how you want to play this, we can play it that way.
But don't think for a second that I won't remember this when we're discussing custody arrangements.
When Charisse asks why Mommy and Daddy can't be together, I'll make sure she knows exactly who to blame. "
Gavin reared back. "Rebecca—"
"No." She grabbed her purse from the chair. "You want to throw away our family for her? Go ahead. But there will be consequences, Gavin. For you and for Charisse."
She turned and walked out. Every eye in the restaurant followed her. The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow felt louder than if she'd slammed it.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I stood there, my heart still racing, trying to process what just happened. Gavin stood a hair’s breadth away, looking shell-shocked.
"Andi—"
"Wow." The word came out quieter than I meant it to.
"You know I was never going to—."
"Before you knew I was even here, I knew that."
He blinked. "What?"
"I saw it. As soon as I walked in the door." I took a breath. "I watched her try to kiss you, and you pulled away. Before you knew I was watching."
Understanding dawned on his face. "That's why you came. Not to—"
"No. I don’t know. I guess I came to make a stand of some sort, but then I started to doubt myself." I wrapped my arms around myself. "Started to feel insecure as I was approaching the restaurant. But then, when I walked in, I saw what happened."
"I never wanted her. My fuck up over these last months wasn’t about her.
It was me being foolish and... well, a little about doubting myself and maybe us.
I think, because of my relationship with Rebecca, I had some of my own shit to work through that I’d just avoided thinking over since there hasn’t been anyone. Not until you."
"Until me." I looked at him. Really looked at him. At the exhaustion still written on his face. At the way he was standing there, like he was afraid to move closer. "You told her you loved me."
"I do love you."
"Do you? Really?" I struggled to find the right words. "Honestly, love me. You said it at the diner, and hearing you say it again—I need you to really think about it. Because I don't want you to say it because you feel bad about everything. I don't need some sort of declaration out of guilt."
He stepped closer, his eyes not leaving mine. "Can we sit down? Please?"
I hesitated, then nodded. We moved to the table. He pulled out my chair. When we sat, he reached across the table, stopped, then pulled his hand back, giving me space.
"You're right to ask," he said quietly. "And yes, I feel terrible. I feel like absolute shit about how I treated you. About keeping you separate, about the friend thing, about all of it. But that's not why I love you."
"Then why?"
He looked down at his hands, thinking. "I don't know exactly when it happened.
It wasn't one moment. It was a hundred small ones.
" He met my eyes. "It was you not being afraid of truth or dare, owning that performance. It was the way you looked at me, like I was someone worth knowing. The months of us being together, laughing, loving. And how you still tease me because I haven’t finished Outlander yet.
A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth despite everything, and muttered, "May as well watch the damn show at this point."
"It was that Sunday morning when I brought coffee to your apartment and you were wearing my old t-shirt with paint in your hair from touching up your kitchen.
You looked so beautiful and so real, and I just thought.
.. this. I want this." His voice got quieter.
"It was the time we spent hours in the car just because you wanted to check out baby animal week in New Hampshire.
And the absolute joy on your face when you held everything from baby pigs to chicks.
It was every time you laughed at something I said, and every time you called me on my bullshit.
Every time you showed up exactly as you are. "
My throat felt tight, and I felt the tears streaking down my face.
"I can't tell you the exact moment I fell in love with you.
I just know that somewhere along the way, you became the person I thought about when I woke up.
The person I wanted to tell everything to.
The person who made me smile every night I fell asleep.
" He took a shaky breath. "And this last week?
Not being able to talk to you? That's when I realized how deep it already went.
How much of my life you'd become. How empty everything felt without you in it. "
I couldn't contain it anymore. My face crumpled as the tears came in earnest, not the delicate, photogenic weeping my mother had perfected—a single glistening drop, a gentle sniffle, a dainty dab with a tissue—but the full catastrophe: red splotches blooming across my cheeks, nose running, shoulders heaving with each ragged breath.
I felt his hand tangle itself in my hair by my temple as he cupped my face.
His whisper came through my sniffles, "So yes, I feel guilty.
I should feel guilty. I hurt you and I hate myself for it.
But the guilt didn't create the love, Andi.
The love was already there. I was just too damned scared to let it be real.
Too scared to let you all the way in. And now—" He stopped.
"Now I'm more scared of a life without you than I am of anything else.
Including Rebecca's threats. Including screwing up again. Including all of it."
The restaurant sounds filtered back in. Soft music. Clinking silverware. The murmur of other conversations. But it all felt distant, like we were in our own bubble.
I pulled back slightly, wiping at my face with the napkin. "God, I must look like a disaster."
"You. Are. Beautiful. There isn’t a single thing that could change that about you."
Rolling my eyes, I said, "This doesn't fix everything."
"I know."
"I need to see it. Every day." My voice was steadier now. "I need you to actually include me in your life. Not keep me separate anymore."
"You will be. I want you to meet my friends. Even Jake. As long as he doesn’t try to steal you away."
I scoffed. "He hasn’t seen me cry yet."
"He’d want you even more if he did. Because you are by far the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, whether crying or not. Laughing or not. It doesn’t matter."
His chair scraped against the floor as he moved closer, and his palms found their way to my cheeks, thumbs gently brushing away the remnants of tears. "No more hiding you away," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. "I want my whole world to know you."
I held his hands to my face and saw the truth in his eyes. "That includes Charisse," he said quietly. "I meant what I said to Rebecca. I want you to meet her properly. Not as Harper’s Aunt’s friend. But as the other half of me."
"When she's ready," I agreed. "Not before. On her timeline."
"Yeah. On her timeline." His voice was rough. "Is that—is that okay?"
"It's more than okay."