Chapter 37 Gabe
GABE
The last week has gone by in a blur of morning runs, shared breakfasts, and movie marathons. I can’t say everything is perfect, I still have the odd nightmare, and my anxiety gets the better of me at times, but things have been improving.
Now Noah’s been grinning for an hour. Not his usual teasing grin. There’s something secretive about it, excited energy emanating from him. It’s making me anxious.
He came home earlier than usual—changed into jeans and a nice top—and came back down to the store to stay with me until closing. It’s nice having company, but I get the feeling he’s gearing up to tell me something.
“You’re unnerving when you smile like that,” I say as I tidy up the last few shelves. I try to keep my tone casual, but apprehension is growing inside me.
“We’ve got plans.” His tone is matter-of-fact. But I can see now that beneath the excitement, there’s a thread of nerves, and it only feeds my own.
“Plans,” I echo, heart thudding so hard I feel a little faint.
“Well… you said yes to going on a date. And it’s happening now.” His smile widens, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “Get your coat.”
My stomach knots. Date. The word comes with too many mixed emotions. My brain starts listing possibilities faster than I can breathe—restaurant, café, movie theatre, somewhere loud, somewhere with too many people.
He tilts his head at me. “Please?”
I look into his eyes, the ones I’ve grown to love so much, and take a centering breath. I can do this. I’ve gone to brunch and lunch multiple times over the last few months, and nothing awful has happened.
And I want to go on a date with Noah, a lot of dates. I’m so sick of my past threatening what’s growing between us.
Noah must read everything on my face because he steps closer to me and brushes his nose against mine. “No crowds. No strangers. Just you and me. I promise.”
My heart’s in my throat, but I nod anyway. “Okay.”
We walk through Willowrun just as the sun starts its descent. The air smells like wet leaves. My coat feels too hot, the fabric irritating my arms. My heart won’t slow down. Every breath I take shakes, making me feel off-kilter and jittery.
I keep telling myself to relax, we’re just walking. We haven’t even gone anywhere yet, and my insides are already a mess. Noah said it would just be us, so there’s no need to panic. If only knowing that was enough to calm me down.
I shove my hands into my pockets, fists clenched tightly, until Noah’s knuckles brush mine through the fabric. Then he does it again, patiently looking for my hand.
I give in to the urge and take my hand out of my pocket, slipping my fingers between his. My hand is clammy in his cool one. I go to take it back, but he squeezes gently. His thumb strokes slow circles over the back, soothing me.
“Feeling okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah,” I say, because it’s feeling more true now that I have his hand in mine.
We keep walking. He talks about a guy at the gym almost dropping a dumbbell on his foot, and I nod when I’m supposed to. I want to listen, I want to know about his day and everything he says, but my mind is spinning. Where are we going?
When the bookstore comes into view, I hesitate before asking, “We’re… coming back?”
“Yep,” he says with a crooked grin.
“That’s the date?”
I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.
Noah winks and unlocks the door. His warm palm at the small of my back guides me inside.
The comforting smell of the store hits me, it’s the same, but different—paper, lavender, and something warm underneath. Food.
When we reach the nook, I stop in my tracks. My heart is thundering now for entirely different reasons.
Fairy lights spill a golden glow over the shelves leading to it.
A table sits where the seats normally are, draped in linen, set for two.
Plates, silverware, little dishes of focaccia, grilled vegetables, prosciutto, and olives.
A bottle of my favorite red wine is waiting, left open to breathe. Low music is playing in the background.
My throat closes up. I stand frozen, staring at the scene in front of me. The bridge of my nose stings, and my eyes well.
“How?” I whisper, my voice coming out with an unsteady tremble.
Noah rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh… asked Abbie and Ciarán to sneak in while we were out. Hope that’s okay?”
A wet laugh breaks out of me. I press a hand over my mouth, but it doesn’t stop the sob threatening to come, I’m consumed by the overwhelming emotions running through me. That this sweet, gorgeous man would do so much to make sure I’m comfortable.
“You hate it,” he says quickly, his voice sounding nervous now. “I should have—”
I shake my head quickly and cut him off. “No. I just—” The words get stuck in my throat. “I can’t believe you did this for me. It’s so… romantic.”
The smile he gives me is blinding and beautiful.
Dinner was perfect, Noah was charming and sweet as ever.
We end up on the floor, backs against the shelves where we first brushed pinkies. Noah wanted to reenact it, which made me laugh.
My body feels loose, almost weightless, but inside, the shadows start swelling. Because it’s too much, and I don’t understand why he’d do this for someone like me. Why he would go through so much effort.
A voice in the back of my mind says this is the kind of thing people in love do. This is the kind of thing my dad would have done for my mom. It’s not the kind of thing I get to have, no matter how much I want it.
The laughter I had a moment ago curdles in my stomach. Heat stings behind my eyes again. I wish I could stop crying so much around him. He makes me so happy, and I want to be happy, but my mind keeps trying to take, and take, and take from me.
Noah senses the shift in my mood, and his fingers still where they’re linked with mine.
“What’s going on in your head right now?” he asks softly, offering me the space to voice my thoughts if I want to. I know he won’t pry if I stay silent, but I want to be open with him.
I press the heel of my palm to my eye, hard enough to blur the lights. “I don’t feel like I deserve you.” The words scrape out raw.
“Gabe,” he starts, sounding like he’s in physical pain, but I stop him.
“This—” I gesture weakly at the glowing lights, the table behind us, him.
“This isn’t me. It shouldn’t be me.” Something raw and ugly wants to rip itself free of me; it’s an anger I haven’t felt until now.
The last year I’ve felt a deep aching sorrow to my core, but never really anger.
Now it’s bubbling up inside of me, anger for everything that happened to me, for all I’ve lost since then.
Anger toward myself for not being able to push through it all, get over it and move on.
“I should be able to take you out, do it properly, sit across from you in some restaurant like normal people and not—” My voice cracks. “Not ruin everything with my broken head.”
The words echo loudly, laced with my misery. I want to swallow them back down, but Noah’s hand tightens around mine.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he says fiercely. “You couldn’t ruin this if you tried. And you are not broken.”
I shake my head, eyes burning. “You don’t get it!” I practically sob.
He nods slowly as his chest expands. “I know, you’re right…
But I’m trying. And I’ll keep trying, I want to understand all of you.
But for now…” He shifts closer, pressing our joined hands against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my knuckles.
“I get that you’re scared. I get that everything has been hard.
I get that you think you should be somewhere else, someone else.
But Gabe—” His voice takes on a raw, painful quality.
“I don’t need somewhere else. I don’t want someone else. I want you. Here. With me.”
He sounds so earnest and sincere. The lump in my throat swells until I can’t speak. Tears spill down my face.
“This is a date,” he says firmly, “our date. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. If you want to go out to other places, we can work toward that together. But baby, I’m happy with this. I am happy with you. This is more than I ever dreamed I could have.”
Noah doesn’t look away from my face. He just reaches up with his free hand and wipes the wetness from my cheek with his thumb, so gently it makes fresh tears spring to my eyes.
I choke out a broken sound. “You make it sound so simple.”
His smile is full of tenderness. “It’s not simple. But it’s worth it.” He brings his lips to my forehead and presses the most heartbreakingly light kiss there. “We are worth it.”
The grip on my chest loosens. He’s such a force, so unwavering, like nothing could break his care for me.
I lean in, and his lips are waiting for me.
The kiss is slow as his hand cups the back of my neck gently.
When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his, feeling calmer than I did.
He’s right, we can work towards going to other places. Together.
“This really was perfect,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
“Good,” he murmurs. “Because I hoped to end it by walking you home and kissing you at your door.”
I laugh and look into his eyes—deep blue, so familiar but new in many ways.
“Walk me home, then.”