28. Abigail
TWENTY-EIGHT
ABIGAIL
As soon as the other two were out of earshot, I rounded on my brother. “What the hell, Gabe?”
He reared back. “That was a good save!”
“Telling Bryce fucking Lawson that my boyfriend and I are going through a rough patch is a good save?”
“ Fake boyfriend,” Gabe corrected. “And is it that surprising that you’d be going through a rough patch with a guy?”
I flinched, and I wasn’t quick enough to hide the hurt that his blow sent through me.
Gabe took a step forward, brows drawing together. “Hang on. I didn’t mean that.”
“I think you did, Gabe.”
“No. Abigail—wait. Don’t walk away.”
Halfway to the door, I turned around and faced him. “I’m sick of listening to you telling me what to do, Gabe. You’re my brother, not my keeper. ”
“So, what, I’m the bad guy for caring about you?”
“Is that what you call it? Showing up unannounced to fix my sink and suddenly you’re the world’s best big brother? Scaring off any guy who might want to take me out? Treating me like I’m the idiot of the century? That’s caring about me?”
“Abigail,” Gabe said, looking utterly confused. “What’s going on?”
Suddenly, it was all too much. The whirlwind with Rex. Keeping on top of my work while this clusterfuck of a wedding was going on. The stupid feelings I kept having. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to get out of here. I’d provided a new wedding venue and done my part. I could leave now.
Then Gabe said, “I didn’t mean that thing about the rough patch, Abigail. It’s just—sometimes you act without thinking. It can be hard to deal with.”
It was that final sentence that did it. “Hard to deal with.” Travis used to say that to me. He’d call me difficult. He’d sigh when I did something spontaneous, even when it was something good, like if I had to rush around to secure a new listing. He’d call me impulsive and difficult and treat me like a child. I was being difficult when I refused to take his name when we got married, even though I’d been using mine professionally for a few years. I was being difficult when I told him I wanted to keep working.
“Gabe,” I started, “I’m sick of this. You need to stop treating me like I’m the town screwup.”
Gabe was bewildered. “Where is this coming from?”
“It’s coming from the fact that I’m successful , Gabe! I’ve been the top-selling realtor in town for three years running. Soon to be four. I handle my business and I’m good . Yes, I’m not the world’ s best housekeeper, but newsflash, neither are you! Neither is Rex! I care about my friends, I care about you and Mom and Dad, but I’m not one disaster away from losing it all. I’m thriving . Can’t you see that?”
“I’m just trying to protect you?—”
“From what ?” I nearly screamed. “Why do you think you need to do that? I’m not a little girl being sent to detention every week. I’m not crying every night because Dad moved out. I’m fine .”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Oh, fuck you.” I spun around and marched toward the exit.
“I know about your night in jail, by the way.”
I froze. Turned.
Gabe scoffed. “Is that ‘fine’ to you? Bryce came into Sullivan’s after it happened and told me about it. I wanted to see if you’d come clean about it, and instead you’re doing this.” He spun his finger in the air, obviously meaning me and Rex. “You ‘owed Rex a favor,’ right? A favor for bailing you out of jail. So if this is your idea of having it all together and being a raging success, then I guess we just have different worldviews.”
Shame burned through me. All this time—everything with Rex, with the wedding—was a waste. I’d been hiding the night in jail from Gabe, and he already knew. Was already judging me for it.
And hell, maybe he was right. I had screwed up, again and again. I’d gotten myself into this mess with Rex and got my feelings hurt. For what? For him to walk away from me and make me feel two feet tall?
The threads of my control were fraying, and I needed to get out of here before I did something reckless. I needed time away from my brother. Away from Rex. Away from all these people . I needed time to be alone so I could think and figure this out.
“I’m leaving,” I announced, then headed off to the coat check room at the front of the building, where I’d left my jacket and purse.