Chapter 11
NOAH
“Oh, my goodness!”
My foot catches on a stick, and I nearly face-plant into the dirt, but Gabriel swoops in like he’s been waiting for this disaster.
He catches my arm—and my hat—before I can fully embarrass myself.
Chuckling, he dusts off my shoulders, adjusts my balance, and slips his hand back into mine as if it never left.
Fall has always been my favorite. It’s like the whole world gets repainted—fiery oranges, deep reds, bursts of gold—as if someone handed Mother Nature a paintbrush and said go wild.
Having grown up surrounded by water, I never really got to experience this kind of beauty. Walking through Central Park in the fall feels like stepping into a Monet painting. I wonder if my sister ever had the chance to paint trees like these. I hope she did.
We wander beneath the canopy of color, my fingers twined with Gabriel’s, and every time a breeze ruffles through his waves, I swear he looks even more beautiful. He really is handsome in a way that’s hard not to get pulled into.
“You look so adorable,” he says, giving my hand a gentle squeeze.
I glance down at my ripped skinny jeans and purple-and-white NYU hoodie, cheeks warming despite the chilly air. He reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair beneath my lavender knit beanie, then winks—effortlessly charming, like he doesn’t even notice the effect he has on me.
“I still feel terrible about what happened at dinner the other night,” he says, for what has to be the eleventh apology. Not that I’m counting. I just wish he’d let it go already.
I flash him a cheeky grin. “It wasn’t that bad. I actually had a nice time. I like Elijah. Alex too. They’re very friendly.”
And very familiar.
But something in me says to keep that part quiet. Better to leave whatever Alex and I have… unnamed.
Friendship.
If that’s even the word. With Elijah, maybe. But Alex? I don’t know what to call that.
“That they are. Lovely, indeed,” Gabriel says, giving my hand a warm squeeze.
“I just hope Elijah and Alex didn’t scare you off with their…
theatrics the other night. As you already know, Elijah and I are very close—having been married and all.
And we have a daughter. But Alex? Well, he’s totally crushing on me. Elijah has—”
“What?!” I stumble over my own feet, and Gabriel’s hands are there instantly, steadying me.
“Whoa.” He chuckles, catching my forearms. “Okay, maybe I exaggerated. Let’s just say… Alex hasn’t quite adjusted to my filthy mouth.”
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Warmth spreads through me, steady and grounding.
“You, on the other hand…” he murmurs, brushing his lips against mine, “should get much more acquainted with my mouth.”
I smile into his kiss as his tongue teases mine, slipping over the metal stud. A shiver runs through my body.
“Then again,” he mumbles, tugging gently on the piercing, “I might end up enjoying what your tongue has to offer even more.”
He keeps talking, but his voice thins and drifts, blurring as my attention slips away—back to Alex’s breath against my lips, back to the chaos I’ve been trying to outrun.
Back to the voice in my head, relentless and insistent, well-meaning despite itself, urging me to come clean.
To tell him about me. About my sister. About his—
A sudden stir of leaves snaps me back. Gabriel pulls me against his chest, shielding me from the little whirlwind of dirt and gold. The scent of pine and coconut rushes up around me, and I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in—familiar, steady, safe.
“Want to pick up some dinner on the way home?” he asks, chin brushing my head. “We can take it back to my hotel room. Stay the night with me, sweetheart.”
I hesitate for a moment, letting a soft, steady peace wrap around me, almost like angel’s wings. Cozy. Calming. It feels good to just be here—happy. My mind drifts less now; it’s quieter than it used to be, especially when I’m with him.
Still, sometimes I can catch her voice humming at the edges of my thoughts… but it’s distant now, a soft whisper at best.
Thank God for small miracles.
I couldn’t keep dragging her along forever. That wouldn’t have been fair—to her or to me.
And… I’m okay now.
Really okay.
I’m breathing without a shiver racing down my spine. Without that familiar clench of fear settling behind my ribs. It feels good.
Safe.
I’ve always wanted to feel safe. And now… I finally do.
Surrendering to this little oasis of quiet, I press my lips to Gabriel’s warm neck and taste his olive skin with a gentle lick.
“Can we swing by my apartment first so I can pick up some clothes?” I murmur against him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, resting his chin on my head as his hands slip beneath my sweatshirt, warm against my skin. “We could… but clothing isn’t necessary.”
His fingers knead the muscles at the base of my spine, slow and sure, and the sigh that leaves my body feels like it’s been waiting all day.
“However,” he adds, his voice sliding right into my sigh. “I’m thinking that black lacey thong would look spectacular on you tonight.”
His wooing sends a smile tugging at my mouth before I can stop it. Gabriel chuckles and kisses my grin. My lips are glossless today, but judging by how many times he’s kissed me already, I’m guessing he prefers them like this—bare and crisp.
He pulls back and brushes a leaf from my shoulder as I reach into my pocket and pull out my lip balm. He watches closely as I smooth the strawberry-flavored balm over my lips, his eyes soft, curious, and just a little mischievous.
I pause mid-swipe, drop the cap, and roll my eyes as a giggle slips out. He always manages to make me giggle. Tossing out smiles like candy seems to come so naturally for him. It’s one of the things I love most about him.
I wish I had that effect on people.
Maybe I do?
At least, I’m trying.
I glance up at him, cap pinched back between my fingers.
Then, I look away. But he gently cups my burning cheeks, turning my face back toward his.
“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on? Why are you holding back?”
A laugh almost escapes me—almost—but I trap it behind a small wordless smile. That’s all I can manage. Because the answer isn’t funny.
Laughter and sex.
Both of them are landmines.
It sounds ridiculous, I know. But sadly… it’s the truth.
Growing up, I only knew how to do three things—cry, dance, and dream. Laughter wasn’t part of my vocabulary. It wasn’t even allowed close to my world.
But dreaming?
Dreaming was mine.
Dreams were my sanctuary. My playground.
My entire universe. In them, I played in the park with my brother.
I skipped through the woods with my dog.
I smiled constantly—so much that my cheeks would ache.
I think I might have even laughed. Especially when Mom tucked me in, tickled me, kissed me goodnight.
I’d lie in bed beside my brother with the biggest smile stretched across my face until it hurt.
And then I’d wake up.
Alone.
No mother.
No brother.
Not even a dog.
And definitely no smile.
Just me.
Tears drying on my cheeks, washing whatever happiness I had away.
Laughter was a far cry from my reality. Probably because I was too busy fighting—fighting to stay inside the dream where I was living and not dying. Where I was loved and not lost.
It was a vicious cycle—dream, reality, dream, reality. Over and over until the line between them blurred.
The only saving grace was my sister—my dream weaver. She lived inside my dreams and outside them, too, stitched into every corner of my mind. I carried her with me everywhere I went. I had to. Letting her go wasn’t an option.
She was the magic in my chaos. Tossing my tears into the rain like camouflaged confetti. Half the time, I couldn’t even tell the difference between the two.
“So, you find this funny?” Gabriel huffs, yanking me out of my thoughts.
I startle, not sure why I’m smiling. It’s all so confusing. But I know for sure I didn’t laugh. Not really. Not the way he thinks.
He brushes his fingers across my forehead, smoothing out what I’m sure are creases of confusion in my skin.
“It doesn’t matter, sweetheart. I love you regardless.”
The words hit me softly, like warm water dripping onto cold hands. I rest my head on his chest, breathing him in as he folds me into his arms.
“It’s just that I’ve been through a lot,” I say, offering him the tiniest puzzle piece. “And… I’m shy, I suppose.” Sounds better than stuck in the rain. That would require too much truth. Too much unraveling. And I’m not ready to be unraveled.
“Ah… but you weren’t so shy at my home in Spain,” he reminds me, kissing the tip of my nose.
He’s right—I wasn’t.
Not that I’d abandoned my boundaries with him.
I hadn’t.
But I’d definitely let them soften. Bend.
He was getting close… dangerously close.
I start walking again, pulling him with me, swinging our joined hands as if that simple motion is enough to keep me in the present.
“You know, you’re gorgeous, right?” I ask, teasing… but also, not. “And incredibly funny. And kind. And—”
Ugh. I blow out a breath because the truth is clawing its way up my throat, and I can’t stop it. I want to tell him. Everything. Just open my heart and let the bleeding begin. But the moment I try to speak, something small and scared inside me shakes its head no. This truth belongs to Alex first.
“It’s just that when I’m with you… I feel something that I’ve been craving for such a long time—forever, actually. But I’m afraid. Afraid of that feeling. God, I don’t know how to explain it.”
I glance up as leaves spiral down from the trees, floating like feathers on a breeze. I breathe in the crisp scent of the season—and him—and allow myself to relax.
“Like… what if I let myself love you and then you leave? Or I get lost? And then I can’t find my way back into the—”
Rain is what I almost say.
But his lips land on mine, stealing my breath and my words.
“Okay,” he says simply, brushing his thumbs across my damp cheeks. “One thing at a time, chulo. Start with today. Today, you are safe. You’re choosing to be here… with me.”
I swallow, pulse fluttering like wings beneath my skin.
He’s right—I am choosing this. Choosing him. Even if the storm inside me still hums, still rains, still trembles.
Gabriel brushes his nose against mine, soft and warm.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dipping into something gentler.
“I know you’re scared. And in time, you’ll tell me why.
I’ll listen… and I’ll still be here. Because I love you.
But right now, you’re safe with me.” His palms settle at the small of my back.
“You don’t have to give me everything all at once. You just have to be here.”
Something loosens in my chest at that—like a knot I’ve been carrying for years finally giving way.
“I am here,” I whisper. And it feels true. It feels like a beginning.
He kisses me again, slower this time, deeper, more like a promise than a tease—and my fingers curl into the front of his jacket, holding him close.
For the first time in a long time, the storm doesn’t swallow me.
It softens.
Almost clears.
I shift direction, walking backward so I can keep watching his face. God, he’s beautiful. And his eyes are really something—thick bands of light gray swirling through deeper shades of the same color. Like clouds twisting through a storm.
But I’m not afraid of this one.
This storm doesn’t thunder. It doesn’t chase me. It doesn’t swallow me whole.
This one I can see myself living in.