Chapter 12
Prove It
Gavin
I checked my phone for the fourth time in ten minutes.
Still nothing. I went back through our messages and realized the last seven messages were from me. Every message for the last day and a half had gone unanswered. All of them still sitting there. They'd been read—the little receipt showed she'd seen them. But no response.
I set the phone facedown on my desk and tried to focus on the elevation drawings in front of me. The downtown project was due tomorrow, and I was behind schedule. But the numbers kept blurring together, my brain stuck on the silence from Andi's end.
It wasn't like her. She always texted back. Even when she was busy, she'd send something—a quick "swamped, will call later" or an emoji. Radio silence was... new.
My phone buzzed. I grabbed it too fast.
A reminder about Charisse's piano recital on Saturday.
I looked at my phone again and tossed it back down.
Maybe she was just busy. Wednesday's inventory always ran late. She'd probably fallen asleep last night, exhausted, and would text this morning.Except it was already almost noon. And still nothing.
I picked up my phone again. Opened our text thread. Scrolled up. Tuesday night. The restaurant. I'd texted her when I got home.
Gavin: Home safe. Thanks for tonight. You looked beautiful. Sweet dreams.
She'd read it. But hadn't responded to that either.
I tried to remember how the night had ended. She'd seemed... quiet. Distracted. I'd asked if she was okay and she'd said yes, but something in her voice had been off.
The wine went down wrong, she'd said.
Had I done something? Said something?
I replayed the night in my head. Dinner had been good. We'd laughed, talked about work. Jake had stopped by the table—
My phone buzzed again, and I snapped it up, hoping it was Andi.
Jake: Hey man. Your friend from the restaurant… she available?
I stared at the screen. What friend? I'd only seen Jake while I was with Andi.
Gavin: Huh?
Jake: Your friend—Andi. Hot chick in the green dress.
My stomach dropped. Then something hot and angry flared in my chest.
Gavin: No fucker. That's my girlfriend.
The three dots appeared immediately.
Jake: Not what you said that night.
I stared at his message. Not what you said last night. "Jake, this is my friend Andi."
Oh. Oh shit.
I'd called her my friend. To Jake's face. Introduced my girlfriend of six months as my friend. And now Jake thought—
My hands were shaking. I typed fast.
Gavin: Fuck, fuck, fuck. Guy. I fucked up. She IS my girlfriend. I just—I don't know why I said that.
Jake: Yikes, man. Does SHE know you fucked up? And Bro! Why is this the first time I’m hearing you have a girlfriend. Does anyone else know?
I looked at Andi's unanswered messages on my screen.
Yeah. She knew.
Gavin: Working on it.
Jake: Good luck with that. Probably thinks you’re a fuckboy, man. Too old to be this dumb asshole.
I set my phone down. Picked it up. Set it down again.
Six months. We'd been dating for six months. And I was the asshole who'd introduced her as my friend. Then wondered why she went quiet for the rest of the night. Why she wasn't texting me back.
And now Jake—fucking Jake—thought she was single and available. Because I'd told him she was just a friend. Had I really never spoken about her to him?
My chest felt tight. I grabbed my phone again and typed.
Gavin: Hey. You okay? Haven't heard from you.
I hit send before I could overthink it. Watched the message turn to "delivered." Then "read."
The three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. Then nothing. She'd started typing and stopped. Twice. That was somehow worse than silence.
This was ridiculous. I was a grown ass man. I could handle this like an adult. I grabbed my jacket.
"Heading out," I told Gillian as I passed her desk.
She looked up, eyebrows raised. "Your afternoon is—"
"Cancel everything. Something came up with Andi."
"Who?" At her question, I looked at Gillian.
"Andi," I croaked out. "My girlfriend."
At Gillian’s round eyes and open mouth, I realized it was a lot worse than I’d thought. She didn’t even know I had a girlfriend. Before I knew it, I was blurting out, "Quite possibly not my girlfriend for long given that I appear to be a complete fucking moron."
"Probably not far off. I’ll cancel the rest of your day."
I was out the door faster than ever before, yelling my thanks to her.
The walk to Southie felt longer than usual. My brain wouldn't shut up, running through every possible scenario. Maybe she was sick. Maybe something happened at the shop. Maybe Marcus quit, and she was drowning in work and couldn't respond.
Maybe she was done with me and didn't know how to say it. That last thought made my chest tight.
The Grind came into view. Through the window, I could see her behind the counter. Hair pulled back, that focused expression she got when she was working. Marcus was there too, making drinks, looking like he was telling a story that had a customer laughing.
Everything looked normal. Except it wasn't.
I pushed through the door. The bell chimed. She looked up. Our eyes met. Something flickered across her face. Not quite a smile. Not quite... anything.
"Hey," I said when I reached the counter, sweat practically pouring down my face. The line was light—just one person ahead of me. Peeking around the person in front of me, I asked her, "Can we talk?"
She glanced at the customer she was helping. "I'm kind of busy."
"I know. I just—" I lowered my voice. I was breathing heavily from rushing here. "You didn't text back. I was worried."
"I'm fine."
"Are you?"
She handed the customer their receipt, called out the order to Marcus. Then looked at me. Really looked at me. And I saw it—the hurt she was trying to hide.
"Marcus," she called, resignation in her voice. "Can you cover the register?"
"Yeah, boss. No problem."
She came around the counter without a word. "Outside."
I followed her onto the sidewalk. The afternoon was warm; people walking past, traffic noise filling the silence between us.
She crossed her arms. Not quite looking at me. "What do you want, Gavin?"
"Andi."
"What?"
"Are we okay?"
She laughed. But it came out wrong. Hollow. "I don't know, Gavin. Are we?"
"What does that mean?"
"It means..." She looked away. Took a breath. "I don’t think you and I have the same understanding of what we are."
My stomach dropped. "What are you talking about?"
"The other night at dinner. You introduced me to your friend as just another friend."
Oh God.
"Andi—"
Her voice was quiet but steady; her eyes fixed on a point just past my shoulder.
"We've been dating for six months. I thought we were exclusive, and I definitely thought we were more than friends.
Seems I was wrong." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with trembling fingers.
"I've been reflecting and realized I've never met any of your friends.
Your colleagues. I'd never even heard Jake's name before then!
I've never been to your place when Charisse is there.
I don't know anyone from your life. I'm just..
." Her shoulders slumped slightly. "This separate thing in your life. "
"That's not true."
"Isn't it?" She finally looked at me. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I'm part of your real life and not just someone you see on weekends and when it's convenient."
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Because she wasn't wrong. But it hadn’t been on purpose.
"Jake texted me today," I said, the words tumbling out. "Asked if you were available. Because I introduced you as my friend, so he thought—" I stopped. "I'm so sorry. I fucked up. I know I did."
Her expression shifted. Something between anger and hurt. "He asked if I was available?"
"I told him you're my girlfriend. That I screwed up." I ran my hand through my hair. "I don't even know why I said friend. It just came out and I didn't think—"
"That's the problem, Gavin. You didn't think." Her voice was tight now. "You didn't think about how it would feel for me to sit there and smile while you introduced me like I was just someone you knew. While you carried on a conversation with him, excluding me. What does it say that about us? I’ll tell you what it says. It says we are just friends. And you know what? I’m too old for this crap. I’ve got enough friends. I don’t need you to be another one. "
"I'm trying to do this right," I murmured. "With Charisse. I don't want to introduce someone into her life unless I'm sure."
"Did I ask you to introduce me to Charisse as something more than a friend? I get that you want to be careful. But this isn't about her, Gavin. This is about you keeping me in a box. Keeping me separate from everything that matters to you."
"You matter to me."
"Secrets matter to people too. So, I’m just a secret that matters to you."
The words hit like a punch. "You're not a secret."
"Then what am I?" Her voice cracked. "Because from where I'm standing, I'm not your girlfriend. I'm not part of your life in any real way. I'm just... your friend who you see when you’ve got time."
"That's not fair."
"You're right. It's not fair. None of this is fair." She wrapped her arms tighter around herself. "I won’t do this. I’m in my thirties, Gavin. I’m too old to play these games. You should be too. I own my own business. I have friends who you’ve met. I have a family who I only just realized you’ve found excuses not to meet over these last few months.
You pick-up games with your friends on some weekends and I never even cared that you didn’t invite me to watch or to grab breakfast with you and the guys after.
" She scoffed. "God! I’m such a joke. I can’t believe what a joke I am right now. "
Panic rose in my chest. "What are you saying, Andi? You are not a joke. Not to me."
"I'm saying I need more than what you’ve decided you’re willing to give me."
"You have me."
"I don’t. Not in any real way."
"Charisse has a piano recital on Saturday," I blurted out. "Come with me. Please."
Her eyebrows shot up, and she took a small step back. "You're inviting me now?"
"Yes. Definitely. Her recital. Two o'clock. I want you there." The words were tumbling out now. "You're right. About everything. I've been keeping you separate, and that's not fair. So come. Be there. Let me—let me show you I want you in my life."
"Gavin—"
"Please, Andi. I know I fucked up. I know I called you my friend, and I know how that must have felt. And you’re right. I hadn’t even realized how separate I had kept us. But I'm asking you now. Come to the recital. Meet the people in my life. Be part of it."
She was quiet for a long moment. Then she shook her head.
"No."
The word hit like a slap. "What?"
"No, Gavin. I'm not coming to your daughter's recital.
" Her voice was firm. "You know why? Because you're only asking now because I'm considering walking away.
Not because you actually want me there. Not because you've spent six months thinking, 'I can't wait for Andi to meet everyone.
' You're asking because I'm forcing your hand. "
"That's not—"
"It is though." She whispered as she took a step back. "If I hadn't said anything, if I'd just smiled and pretended Tuesday night was fine, would you have invited me? Be honest."
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
"Yeah. That's what I thought." She wrapped her arms around herself.
"I don't want to be someone you invite because you're panicking.
I don't want to be your last-minute save.
I want to be someone you're proud to have by your side.
Someone you introduce as your girlfriend because you can't imagine doing it any other way. "
"You are—"
"I'm not, Gavin. Not to you. Not today. Maybe not ever." Her eyes were watering now. "And I can't keep waiting around, hoping you'll figure it out."
"Andi, please—"
"I need to get back to work." She turned toward the door.
"Wait." I grabbed her arm gently. She stopped, but didn't turn around. "What do I do? How do I fix this?"
She was quiet for so long I thought she wasn't going to answer. Then:
"I don't know if you can." She pulled her arm free and looked back at me. "I think you need to figure out what you actually want. Because right now, it feels like you want me to stay small. Stay separate. Stay convenient. And I won’t do that."
"That's not what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
The question hung between us. What did I want?
I wanted her. I wanted Saturday mornings and bad jokes, and the way she made everything feel lighter. I wanted to tell Jake about her, introduce her to everyone, bring her to family dinners and basketball games, and every boring Tuesday night.
But I also wanted—what? To keep things safe? To protect Charisse? To avoid Rebecca's questions and the complicated conversations that came with merging my life with someone new?
"I want you," I finally said. "I want us."
"Doesn’t feel like it. So, I couldn’t even begin to tell you how you’d have to prove it.
" She met my eyes. "Certainly isn’t with an invitation you're only making because I’m putting my foot down about being your little secret.
Definitely not just with words. Prove it, Gavin.
Show me I'm not just convenient. Show me I matter. "
"How?"
She smiled, but it was sad. Resigned. "If you have to ask, then maybe you're not ready for the answer."
She went back inside. The bell chimed behind her. Final.
I stood there on the sidewalk, people walking around me, the city moving on as if my world hadn't just collapsed.
I went back to the office to get my car, having rushed here without thinking. The walk gave me time to think. Time to figure out how to prove to Andi that she was more to me than I’d ever given her reason to believe.
I just had no idea how.