36. Gabe
GABE
No, I’m not where I thought I’d be.
Once upon a time, in my mid-twenties, I found myself looking at my best friend and wondering if he could be more.
We got on better than I could have fathomed. There was never any of that weird masculine posturing between us. We talked or didn’t. Kept an eye on each other. Helped each other.
A few years later, I was convinced he was my person.
The single human that was put here to keep me sane. To be my confidant. To have my back, just like I had his.
And I was convinced that, given enough time, he’d come to feel the same way about me. That he’d start to look at me as not just his friend but his everything.
By thirty, I realized he was not only happily straight but decidedly single. Which makes his lengthy but covert interest in Katherine intriguing, even as it slowly needled me.
Respecting him meant I pushed my feelings down, threw myself into more projects, and promised myself that was enough. Because honestly, the only thing we’re missing is sex. Right?
In many ways, we’re ‘together.’ And that seems like enough for him.
It has to be enough for me.
So no, I’m not where I thought I’d be. Not by a long shot.
“How do we fix that?” Alex asks.
Is it just me, or is his voice sort of gentle? Like he’s trying not to spook me.
Too late. I’m already spooked. It’s hard to sit still right now.
To be this close in a silent, beautifully decorated and serene space feels intimate. Almost like it’s willing us to expose the secrets between us.
Except, those secrets aren’t really between us like an inside joke so much as between us like a canyon.
“We don’t,” I answer with a shrug. He’s Mr. Fix-it, but Doctor Morales reminded me of some hard truths. “Sometimes we don’t get everything we want, and that’s okay.”
His eyes widen in surprise.
That’s the thing about dreams and goals and desires. They change. They’re almost designed to change. And while I’ve been laser-focused on a few things, I’ve pivoted along the way.
“I like my life too. Our life,” I parrot his earlier words.
How could I not love this life? It’s a dream come true.
Whenever I feel restless about not getting what I want, I remind myself to take a breather and remember all I have to be grateful for. Such obvious advice, but I forgot it somewhere along the way.
“Never thought I’d hear the day where Gabriel Rothburn doesn’t get everything he wants.”
I grunt at that. “Me either.”
And I’m arrogant enough to admit it’s a bitter pill to swallow. But you can’t make someone love you. Or desire you. And maybe it’s time I accept that.
No.
It’s past time I accept that. Like a decade later.
So I crack a joke.
“Look at me maturing.”
He takes his first sip from his beer bottle, then lets it dangle from his fingertips. Staring at me for a full second, he says, “I’m looking.”
Those two words hit me right in the stomach, knocking the air from my lungs and sending a spiral of lust through me.
But that’s not how he meant them.
So I take a deep breath and stifle my physical reaction. “I have a few grays now. I found them the other day.”
“You know I’m not talking about gray hair.” He cocks his head at me in that ‘you’re full of it’ expression he’s mastered.
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, Alex. You’re looking? At or for what? Signs of a heart attack?”
Which is a lie. I do have an idea. And now I’m not vibrating because of nerves, I’m shaking from abject fear. I’m terrified that he’s seeing the thing I don’t want him to see.
I make a show of looking at the time, then push to my feet. “I should get back to the office. Board meeting tomorrow.”
Alex makes a soft grunting sound and plops his bottle on the coffee table. “That’s it?”
I turn back. “What?”
He doesn’t look at me, just stares at the bottle, those wide shoulders tense.
I feel like a bunny in a trap.
“A moment of honesty between us, and you’re going to run off?”
He shoves to his feet, spine straight. I look up at him, search his face. But as usual, he’s unreadable.
I take a long, slow breath and count to five. Just like earlier in Doctor Morales’s office, I have to fight the urge to deflect.
“Okay. Something’s obviously on your mind.”
“You say this isn’t where you wanted to be, but you’re happy with the way things are. Make that make sense.”
Nope. Now I’m in the trap. Sharp, invisible teeth bite into me, holding me still as my heartbeat accelerates.
I drop my chin to my chest and close my eyes. At this rate, I’m going to break a rib with how hard my heart is beating.
“I decided to let go of a dream,” I say. “Some things… they don’t work out like we think they will or want them to, and that’s okay.”
Lifting my head, I stare back at him. “It’s okay because I am happy with this life we’ve carved out for ourselves.
Building our companies bigger than anything we ever dreamed back in Cambridge.
I have a full life, things I like to do, and people I like to hang out with.
And now there’s Katherine. And Kingston.
And it’s… They complete us, don’t you think? ”
“I thought so.”
The tentativeness in those three words rocks me back on my heels. I hold my breath, waiting for more.
But more doesn’t come. “Sounds like there’s a but in there.”
He holds my gaze and lifts a shoulder. Annoyance curls through my middle.
“You wanted honesty from me, but you’re not ready to be honest back?” Fabulous. I just love battling my demons alone.
I shove my hands in my front pockets and hunch my shoulders. I can’t remember the last time he left me on my own for that. Which sounds sort of pathetic in my head.
“That was you being honest?” he asks softly. Skeptically. “You can’t even say what it is you want.”
“What I want could ruin everything, and I’m no longer willing to risk it,” I fire back.
“It?”
“Our friendship, Alex. I missed you these last few days. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”
“I feel the same way.”
I scoff and shake my head. “No, you don’t.”
“You don’t think I’ve missed you? That our fight didn’t shred me?
Fuck, Gabe. I’ve been sitting here wondering if you’re buying this place”—he throws up his hands, swirling a fingertip at the ceiling—“to move Katherine and Kingston in and start a happy little family. Will there still be a place for me?”
Alarm explodes through my gut. “Of course there’s a place for you here. What the hell, man?”
His chin dips toward that massive chest, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know.”
The alarm turns to frustration. My mind races in three hundred and sixty different directions, yet all the thoughts circle back to one thing: I should walk away before I say something I’ll regret.
The words just don’t seem to make sense today.
Emotions fire between us like cannons, the iron balls bouncing all around.
“Let’s take a breather, okay?” I say, wanting some time to think this through. I’m not sure he knows what he wants, and I’m not about to ask for something he’s not ready for.
The soft vulnerability drips right off him and puddles on the floor. After a nod, his chin lifts, shoulders tug down and back, and my tall, strong, frustratingly stoic best friend is back. Those moments where he showed me a different side of himself disappear like they never were.
And now I’m split in two.
He’s not mad about it. Not disappointed. Nothing. Just resigned.
Back in his space as my best friend. Always there. Always.
My insides feel like they’re caving in on themselves. I want to run and hide, and, at the same time, I want to grab him and shake him.
Or kiss him.