CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT GABRIELLE
Feelin’ a little froggy today,” I say, eyeing the outlet covers that need to be changed in the kitchen. “But do I feel froggy enough to leap?”
I clean up the boys’ breakfast mess and try to keep myself distracted so I don’t open the curtains and look at Jay’s house. I thought it would get easier as each day passed, but it hasn’t. Even when Della asked me to go to Murray’s last weekend, I turned her down. Whereas I was so eager to go out and live again just a few weeks ago, I have no use for it now.
It’s almost as if I found what I was looking for.
Too bad I can’t have it.
My eyes are a little puffy from crying last night. I told the boys I have allergies. They were only too happy to take my explanation and continue their lives. I’m happy they don’t know how wrecked I am over Jay. It would disassemble the progress I’ve made with Dylan over the last few days. Let’s hope that lasts.
I rummage around beneath the sink and find my pink tool bag.
How could Jay walk away from me like that? Was I misreading the situation? Or is he truly just that nervous to get involved again?
“To hell with Jay,” I say, finding my screwdriver. “If he can just toss me aside and not realize that I am afraid, too—that it’s hard for me to consider losing another man I love—then fuck him.”
I wipe my face with the end of my shirt.
“Let’s roll the dice today and try a little electrical work,” I say. “What’s the worst that can happen? I know how to find the breaker box.”
My eyes instantly fill with tears as I remember the only time I’ve been down there. With him.
I’m reaching for the outlet when my doorbell sounds, filling the house with the melody of a dying fox.
“Gotta get that changed too,” I say, reaching the front door. I pull it open, and all the air vacates my lungs.
Jay.
“Hey,” he says carefully.
“What are you doing here?”
I steel myself against his smile, leaning into how uncertain it is instead of how handsome he looks first thing in the morning. I don’t flinch and barely blink. I’m not sure what to make of this.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I committed the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and walked away from you.”
What? My hand slides down the side of the door until it falls limp at my side.
“I’ve barely been able to breathe, Gabrielle. I’ve avoided being home so I didn’t have to watch you living without me. Not a second has passed that I haven’t thought of you and your boys and wished that I was welcome here with everything in me.”
I force a swallow. My head spins, unsure what to make of this. I want to jump in his arms, have him wrap me up against him, and breathe in his cologne. I want what I thought we had.
But if I do that, if I give in without knowing why he’s suddenly pivoting back to me, it will be a mistake. I hate that it’s true. It’s just too bad that I’m wise enough to know that unless he’s truly had an epiphany and isn’t acting out of loneliness, this will all play out again.
That’s not an option.
There can’t be Band-Aids when it comes to my family. Either he gets it, or he doesn’t. He’s in, or he’s out. And that’s his choice to make.
“Believe it or not, my reaction was based out of fear ... but also out of wanting what’s best for you and your boys,” he says.
My sight blurs and I will myself not to cry. Stay strong, Gabby. Get through this.
“Dylan came by last night,” he says.
“ What? Dylan came by your house? When?”
“It was late.”
I groan. What did Dylan do now?
“We had a long talk,” Jay says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, as long as a teenage boy is willing to talk.”
I smile at that.
“And when he left, we had cleared the air and come to an understanding.” He chuckles. “He didn’t mean to, but he made me think a lot last night.”
“I’m sorry. I had no idea he left the house, which probably makes me a bad mother. But I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him not to bother you.”
“You see, I hope that’s impossible.”
I balk. “Excuse me?”
He runs a hand down his jaw, his eyes searching mine. I have no idea what’s happening, what they talked about, or why Dylan felt it necessary to talk to Jay without talking to me first. Especially considering his outburst sparked this fallout. I also don’t know why Jay is here, and that’s eating a hole in my gut.
“Jay, I’m sorry for—”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” His tone slices through me. “Did you come over here wanting a fight? Because I’ll give you a fight.”
He smirks, and I see red.
“Let me tell you something,” I say, poking his chest. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to leave me and break my fucking heart.” My voice cracks, but I keep going. “Then come over here and stand on my porch and tell me my son was bothering you, and it made you think, and now you want to ... I don’t know what you want. But I want you to leave just like you did before.”
Tears gather in my eyes, and it takes everything I have not to break out into a sob.
“Gabrielle, please. Let me finish.”
“You already finished us. You walked away. You told me it can never happen between us. I didn’t do that. You did. ”
Tears trickle down my face despite my anger. Crying in front of him only makes me madder. It’s just new material for me to obsess over tonight when I go to bed, and God knows I don’t need more things to ponder.
“Please leave, Jay,” I say, looking at his handsome face for the last time. “And don’t come back.”
He doesn’t move. Not a single muscle in his body twitches. He stands in place and looks at me like he’s trying to decide what to make of this situation.
“I have to go,” I say, turning to the house. “I have outlets to change.”
“That’s electrical.”
I smile, knowing he can’t see it. “So it is.”
“Damn it, Gabrielle.”
He steps in front of me, blocking the doorway.
I commit every line in his face to memory. The way the corners of his eyes crinkle in the morning light. How his lips are shaped, and how his brows pull together when he’s thinking.
Just as I finish my inspection, my vision clouds over again. I don’t try to hide it from him. Why bother? Let him remember that he broke my heart.
“Gabrielle,” he says, his voice clear and warm. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I let another woman’s actions affect my relationship with you, and that’s wrong. There’s really no excuse.”
I blink, trying to keep the tears from falling, and shove the screwdriver in my back pocket.
He reaches for me but stops short of making contact. Instead, he smiles. “I came here to tell you that I will never walk away from you again and I’m a fucking fool for doing it the first time. I’m fighting for us and I won’t stop.”
I gasp, sucking in a breath that isn’t discreet. It earns a twitch of his lips.
“My respect for you runs deep,” he says. “If you don’t trust me, if you want to protect your boys, that’s fine. I understand. But I will work every fucking day to show you that I’m committed. I’m here. I will fight for us, even if you think it’s over.” He takes a step toward me. “Because it’s not over for me. It can never be over. Because I love the hell out of you.”
“Jay . . .”
His name breaks across my lips, and tears flood my cheeks. I consider that I’m dreaming—that I tried to change the outlet and finally got electrocuted. But when he slides his arms around me and brings his lips to mine, it’s real. He’s real.
This is real.
He rests his forehead against mine. “You’re in control. You call the shots. I’ll play by your rules as long as you let me play.”
“I didn’t expect this. I’m kinda unprepared.”
“Will you let me love you?” he asks. “Can I have another chance?”
He pulls back and searches my face, undoubtedly looking for a sign of hope.
“Before I agree to anything,” I say, having already decided what I will do, “what kind of a chance do you want?”
“All of it. The whole chance. As much of a chance as you’ll give me.” He flashes me his crooked grin. “I have Dylan’s blessing, in case that helps.”
“What?” I laugh. “How much did you guys talk last night?”
His grin grows wider. “Long enough for him to not hear you cry in bed.”
My stomach drops. “He heard me?”
“Yeah. And he came over and asked me to make you stop.”
My sweet, sweet boy.
The tears come again, but for a different reason this time. It feels better to cry out of happiness and relief than sadness.
“Well, I’m glad you listened to him,” I say.
“You have no idea.”
I don’t know what that means, but I don’t ask. Something tells me the two of them share a secret. It’s more than I could have hoped for.
Jay takes both my hands. “I love you. I thought I might, and that’s partially why I bailed. But I realized last night I love you so much that I can’t walk away. All I could do was hide from it—or try to, anyway.” He strokes the back of my hand with his thumb. “But I also care about your boys, Gabrielle. That’s a stickier situation, but I want to be here for them. As much as I missed you, I missed Carter needing my pumper and knowing Dylan was okay.”
The stress and weight on my shoulders evaporates into the warm air. Suddenly, everything is as it’s supposed to be.
“I love you,” I say, watching his face light up. “That’s why it hurt so bad when you broke things off. Because I had already trusted you with my heart. I just didn’t realize it.”
He plants another kiss on my lips. This time, he lingers a little longer.
“One more thing,” he says, his hands roaming down my back. “No more electrical.”
He jerks the screwdriver out of my pocket and shoves it in his.
“Hey,” I protest, laughing.
Jay scoops me up, my legs going over one arm and my back supported by his other. I wrap my arms around his neck as he carries me inside.
“How long until the boys are home?” he asks.
“Why aren’t you at work?”
“Because I had to fix things with my girl. Priorities.”
I sigh happily. “The kids will be gone for another six hours.”
“I know a way we can pass the time.”
“Me too.” I kiss him again. “Let’s change the outlets.”
His eyes twinkle. “Well, since you need my help, you’ll have to buy my time. And I’m not cheap.”
My stomach clenches. “And how do you suggest I do that? What kind of currency do you trade in, Mr. Stetson?”
“Let’s go upstairs. I have lots of ideas.”
I giggle as he carries me to my bedroom.