Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
AVERY
He sees it.
These things I want to say.
How easy it would be to loosen my hold on my thoughts. On everything. Can I grant clemency to the barrel of misdeeds that sits between us, and move on?
You’re not finished with me?
The double-meaning rang like a bell, echoing through my chest. I panicked, and he let me off the hook.
A long sigh sticks in my throat as I stretch out in bed. My hand glides over the sheets in search of Gabriel. When I don’t find the warm, hard body I’m looking for, I pull myself to sitting and look around the room. His shirt dangles from the footboard, his shoes lined up neatly next to the open door.
Last night, after hot tea and a long walk around town, he drove me back here and I invited him in. We ended up in bed, like I knew we would. Sometimes, communication between bodies is as effective as the spoken word. And boy, do we communicate well.
It was different, though. The question of ‘What are we doing?’ has permeated both of us, creating an urgency and tenderness that wasn’t there before. The exultation of our reunion is fading, revealing what’s been lurking all along. The hard stuff.
I find Gabriel in the kitchen cooking eggs. His posture is stiff, his back muscles coiled. He’s frowning at the yellow mixture in the pan.
My heart constricts at the sight of him. How good it feels, to wake up and see Gabriel’s belongings, and find him in the middle of a mundane task. As if our lives are as cozy and lived-in as they used to be.
“Hey, you.” I walk up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pressing my face against his tense muscles. “What’s wrong?”
He moves the pan off the burner, and I step back so he can turn and face me. The side of his mouth tugs, and he looks so sad. “You’re leaving in four days.”
I nod, a tiny up and down bobbing of my chin.
“There’s nothing for me in Phoenix.” His head shakes slowly as he speaks. “Not right now.”
I nod again. I’ve already drawn the same conclusion. Sugar Creek suits Gabriel. He has come here to rebuild, and he’s not finished building.
My heartbeats ricochet through my chest. This is the part I didn’t plan for when I asked Gabriel to stay when it was snowing. Or when we finally had our overdue reckoning. Or when we let our bodies speak volumes, over and over. “What do we do?”
His expression is unfathomable. He settles both hands on my waist, fingers flexing. “I don’t want to lose you again.” His voice is rough. “And if you asked me to go back to Phoenix with you, I might.”
My breath hangs in my throat, waiting for the rest of what he has to say.
“It wouldn’t be the right choice for me. I’m getting my feet underneath me here.” His voice is rough, resigned. “I would throw all that away for you, Avery, but please don’t ask that of me.”
“I would never.” The words are out of my mouth quickly, and they’re almost completely truthful. A sliver of me sees the possibility of coaxing him into leaving his oasis in the mountains, returning him to the city where he’s from and the life we created.
A lump forms in my throat. I cannot ask anything of him. He might say yes, and saying yes for the wrong reasons is a recipe for disaster.
I push back the stinging feeling behind my eyes, shifting my focus from my loss to his gain. “I’m proud of you, Gabriel.” When his head begins to shake in argument, I palm his jaw and say, “No, really, I am. And you should be, too. It’s not wrong to put yourself first sometimes.”
“Maybe it’s not wrong, but it doesn’t feel right, either.” Gabriel kisses my forehead. “Let’s eat, before it’s cold.”
We don’t bother to sit, choosing to stand at the counter and stare outside as we devour fluffy eggs. When I’m finished, I feed Ruby. She must sense the climate in the room, because she is abnormally calm.
Gabriel takes my plate to the sink with his. He begins the cleanup process, his back muscles flexing with his motion. I want to bury my face there again, against his warm skin that smells like my old life. He’s facing the sink when he says, “You could stay here.” His voice is tentative, his sentence lifting at the end with a hopeful note.
I’ve already thought of that. Could I slip seamlessly into small-town life? I think so. But what about my dad and Lara? Cam and Dani? What if my book is met with a round of emphatic declinations from every publisher Jill presents it to? I’ll need to get a job, and how big can the pool of openings be in Sugar Creek? All those questions pale in comparison to the biggest question of all.
What are we doing?
Gabriel pushes off the sink, spinning around and propping his hands behind him. Tiny soap bubbles slide off his fingers onto the lip of the counter. “I know…” His chin tips up and lowers slowly, just once. “Cam. You won’t leave her.”
I shake my head. “She’s grown. Cam doesn’t need me.”
Gabriel’s eyes lock on mine. “It’s me, isn’t it?”
My heart fractures at the resolute disappointment in his tone. How can I explain something I hardly understand myself? “It’s…everything. I don’t know what to make of this”—I gesture between us—“and I’m confused. But I’m only confused if I pause to think about what’s happening up here, tucked away in this charming mountain town.”
“And if you don’t pause? How do you feel?”
My gaze drags up his body, from his legs crossed at the ankles to the stubble on his neck. It puts a warm, ambient glow in my belly. “Happy.”
Gabriel nods like he knows. “Anything else?”
“Content. Like I’ve been treading water for a long time, and I’ve finally reached land.”
Relief floods Gabriel’s eyes. “I feel the same.”
I lean my elbows on the counter, rubbing my hands over my face. I wish this were easier. I wish I could move up here and forgive and forget. I wish he’d never done what he did. I wish he didn’t have an addiction. I wish I hadn’t enabled and encouraged and ignored.
I wish.
I wish.
I wish.
Gabriel holds out a hand for me. I take it, stepping over his crossed legs and capturing them between my own. “We can make it work,” he begins earnestly. “I’ll drive down to Phoenix on the weekends. You can come here. We’ll talk on the phone. You’ll send me ridiculous things Cam says, and I’ll reply with a string of emojis you’ll have to make sense of. We’ll miss each other like crazy. And then—” Gabriel stops, as if all the air has disappeared from his lungs. He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t survive on that, not after we’ve had it so much better.”
“Me either.” Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t want to waste time crying.
“Where do we go from here?” A pained look crosses his face, as if he can hardly bring himself to say what I know is inevitable. “What are we doing?”
Four words, ripe with emotion. It’s not just a question. It’s a challenge, a call to examine, and decide. We can no longer avoid it.
“I…” My fingertips trail over the planes of his bare chest. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing here, or with you. I don’t know where to go from this point. I wasn’t expecting you…” I palm his heart. “This. All I know is that I can’t do anything halfway with you. No long distance.” My voice catches, and I’m motioning between us, attempting to put words to emotions I can barely identify.
Gabriel gently touches my chin, guiding my gaze to meet his. My lower lip wobbles. Here it is. The beginning of yet another ending to me and Gabriel.
“Four days,” he says, an echo of the first words that began this conversation. His cheekbones lift, his eyes squint. “We’re going to make the most of these next four days.”
His head dips and he finds my mouth. He kisses me urgently, like there is nothing more important in this world than his lips on mine.
Right now, there isn’t. Not really.