Chapter 12
GAGE
Iwas halfway through reviewing the quarterly projections when Susan cracked my office door open.
“You have a visitor.”
I pushed back from my desk, wondering about the mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Who is—”
My question broke off when I saw Tessa behind her. Her expression was a strange mix of shock and confusion. As she walked into my office, I noticed a folded brochure in her hand. Spotting the logo from the local cancer center, I realized why she’d come here.
Susan shot me a meaningful look before shutting the door behind her.
Tessa didn’t move closer, but I circled my desk so it wasn’t between us. Stopping at the guest chairs, I settled my hand on the back of the nearest one to stop myself from crossing over to her. “It’s good to see you, Tessa.”
Ignoring my greeting, she held the brochure out in a grip tight enough to whiten her knuckles. “I went to the cancer center this morning to drop off some cupcakes for the staff.”
I wasn’t surprised she was still finding thoughtful ways to give back to the place that treated her mom. But her showing up here on the same day she’d been there probably didn’t bode well for me. The plan for her to never find out about the anonymous donation seemed to have failed.
“There’s a new plaque on the infusion room door.” She took a shaky breath. “It has my mom’s name on it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. When I opened them again, Tessa had moved close enough to hold the brochure out to me.
“They even updated the brochures with a photo.”
Taking the brochure from her, I glanced down at a picture of the plaque that I had not requested. “She deserves to be remembered like this.”
She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “When I asked the office manager, she said they wanted to do something to properly honor the large donation made in my mother’s name. Since it had been done anonymously and they couldn’t thank the person behind it.”
There was no point denying the obvious. “It was me.”
She took a step back, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Why anonymously?”
“Because you were never supposed to know.” I forced myself to stay still, my every instinct screaming to close the distance between us. “It wasn’t meant to be a gesture you’d owe me for. I just wanted to honor her. And help the place that meant so much to you.”
She looked down at the brochure and shook her head. “I was almost positive this was you, but I don’t even know how to feel after hearing you confirm it.”
“That makes sense, considering how complex our situation is.” Searching for the right thing to say, I thought about what my therapist had taught me about holding space for opposing feelings.
“Being pissed at me over what happened and also grateful about the donation aren’t mutually exclusive.
This is new information for you, and it makes sense that you’re still trying to process it. ”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you and what have you done with Gage?”
“You have Susan to thank for the new and improved me.” I jerked my chin toward the door with a laugh. “When I told her what Vanessa did, she told me to get my ass into therapy before I made everything worse.”
“Does your therapist know about all the things you’re doing behind the scenes in my life?” She raised her hand to tick each item on her list with a finger. “The elevator at my building, community center, and this?”
I shook my head with a grimace. “No, we hadn’t gotten that far yet, but I’ll be sure to bring it up at my appointment tomorrow.”
“I don’t know what to do with any of this.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted. “None of this was about being seen or thanked. I’m not trying to buy forgiveness. Or push you into anything you’re not ready for. I was just trying to do right by you. Finally.”
Cautious hope flickered in her hazel eyes before her lashes lowered. “But why?”
“Because I fucked up three years ago, and you paid the price for it more than me.” I raked my fingers through my hair.
“And even though I let myself get manipulated by Vanessa, I still spent every single day missing you. Now that I know the truth, I had to try to repair some of the damage I caused.”
Her eyes lifted to mine again, shiny with tears that didn’t fall. “You didn’t abandon me on purpose, but you did it all the same. How can I possibly know you never will again?”
The question hurt, but it was fair. “You can’t. I’m not sure I would forgive me either, if I were you.”
Her breath caught at my confession.
“But I will never make the same mistake again,” I added. “That’s not a promise I’m making lightly. It’s one I’m learning how to keep.”
She studied me for a moment before finally asking, “Is therapy helping?”
I nodded. “Yeah. More than I thought it would.”
“How often are you going?”
“Twice a week.” I shifted my weight, uncomfortable saying any of this out loud. But Tessa deserved answers to any questions she wanted to ask. “We’re moving toward weekly sessions now that I’m actually starting to make progress.”
“What kind of progress?”
I held her gaze as I replied, “I’m learning to be more open with the people who matter. How to set boundaries so I don’t let myself get pressured into decisions that aren’t good for me. And admitting that therapy has been good for me, despite why it started.”
Tessa’s eyes continued to search mine when a soft knock interrupted us. The door cracked open, and Susan’s head appeared, her expression far too innocent for my comfort. “Gage? Weren’t you running out to get me lunch from that place down the street?”
“The place down the street?” I echoed, my brows drawing together.
She batted her lashes and leaned farther into my office. “I cannot believe you forgot your promise to me.”
“Uh, sorry,” I muttered, even though we both knew I hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.
“You were going to bring me some of their famous lasagna since I’m taking a late lunch today.” Her gaze slid toward Tessa before flicking it back to me. “And an order of tiramisu because it’s my favorite.”
I dragged a hand across the back of my neck. “Right.”
Subtlety had never been Susan’s strong suit, but apparently, matchmaking schemes were. She ducked out just as quickly as she’d appeared, closing the door behind her.
I turned back to Tessa and cleared my throat. “Would you like to come with me? They have that carbonara you enjoyed so much.”
I fully expected her to say no, so I was stunned when she nodded. “Yeah, I could do that.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
I hoped she couldn’t tell how rattled I was, but her slight smile told me I failed. Which was fine because the idea of sharing a meal with Tessa had felt impossible only an hour ago.
The walk to the restaurant was short, but every step felt like unfamiliar territory. Having Tessa beside me again felt surreal. It was more than I had ever let myself hope for.
I pulled the door open for her, and she slipped inside with a quiet “thank you.”
The hostess led us to a small two-top near the window and set the menus down before walking away.
Tessa slid onto the chair across from me, smoothing her palms over her thighs. “I can’t believe you remembered the carbonara. It’s been a long time.”
“I didn’t forget anything.”
“Yeah.” Her eyes flickered to my face and back down again. “It’s hard to doubt that with everything you’ve done lately.”
I didn’t let myself smile, but I was filled with satisfaction. Not because Tessa was impressed. That wasn’t what any of this had been about. But it had done exactly what I’d intended—made her life better.
Tessa traced her finger over the name of the restaurant where it was imprinted on the front before picking up her menu and opening it. I was too aware of the weight of the moment to pretend I could focus on lunch specials.
“Before we order…” She looked up at my words, her expression guarded but curious. “I need to be completely honest with you.”