Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Gabbi
The rain had softened to a quiet drizzle, the once-violent storm now nothing more than a distant whisper outside the cabin walls. The wind no longer howled through the cracks, no longer rattled the rotting wood, no longer screamed its presence. It was fading, dying. And with it, so was this moment.
I sat near the fireplace, knees tucked against my chest, my fingers tangled absently with Bobby’s.
His grip was firm, warm, steady in a way that both comforted and destroyed me all at once.
I watched the fire flicker, its glow barely reaching the shadows that stretched across the room, and I tried to ignore the ache that was slowly tightening in my chest. We had been living in this pocket of time, a place untouched by the outside world, a place where nothing else had mattered.
But the storm was breaking. And so was the illusion.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers instinctively curling tighter around his. “The storm’s almost gone.”
Bobby didn’t say anything.
I turned my head, looking at him through the dim firelight. His jaw was tight, his green eyes dark and unreadable as he stared at the flames. He wasn’t ready to let this end either. But we both knew it had to.
I squeezed his hand, my voice quieter now. “What happens when we leave here?”
His fingers stilled against mine. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to answer, but no words came.
And that silence said everything.
I swallowed against the lump rising in my throat. I had always known the answer, but hearing it in the form of silence still hurt.
I looked down at our hands, tracing the rough lines of his knuckles, the callouses that had formed over years of fighting battles I had never been a part of. I knew what this was. I knew what this wasn’t. But that didn’t make it easier.
“This isn’t real, is it?” My voice barely rose above a whisper.
Bobby’s grip on my hand tightened, but still, he said nothing.
I forced a smile, even though I knew it was useless. “I mean, this. Us. It’s not…” I trailed off, exhaling sharply.
His jaw flexed, his breathing deep and measured. Finally, after what felt like forever, he spoke. “Feels real to me.”
I turned toward him fully, searching his face, searching for something I knew I wouldn’t find.
And then I did something reckless, something desperate.
I reached up and touched him, brushing my fingers against his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath my touch.
He didn’t pull away. He leaned into it, just slightly, just enough to tell me that he felt it too.
I let out a shaky breath, my voice barely holding steady. “Then let’s stop pretending.”
His eyes darkened, something flickering behind them, something raw and dangerous. His hand came up, catching mine, holding it there against his face. His fingers slid along my wrist, tracing the pulse that was pounding beneath his touch.
And then he kissed me.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t hesitant. It was desperate, consuming, full of all the things we had been trying so damn hard to bury.
I gasped against his lips as his hands slid into my hair, his grip tightening like he was afraid to let go.
His mouth was rough, demanding, and I matched it with my own, needing this as much as he did.
My fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, pulling him until there was no space left between us.
Bobby moved fast, shifting us until I was on my back, his body pressed over mine, his weight solid, grounding. My head tilted back as his lips left a trail down my throat, his breath hot against my skin, his fingers burning everywhere they touched.
“Gabbi,” he murmured against my collarbone, my name more of a prayer than a word.
I arched into him, my body aching, needing more, needing everything.
There were no questions this time, no hesitation, no space for doubts or regrets. Just heat, just hands, just us.
And I let myself drown in it.
Later, when the fire had burned lower, when my body was tangled with his beneath the thin blanket, I let my eyes drift open to the dark ceiling above us.
Bobby was still beside me, his arm heavy over my waist, his breath even and steady against the back of my neck.
His hand rested against my stomach, fingers curled slightly, like he had fallen asleep still holding onto me.
I stared at the ceiling, waiting.
Waiting for the warmth to fade. Waiting for the inevitable ache to settle in my chest.
Waiting for morning.
Because when the sun came up, everything would change.
Bobby shifted slightly behind me, his grip tightening for a second before relaxing again.
I felt his heartbeat against my back, steady, strong, the same heartbeat I had fallen asleep to so many nights before.
For a moment, I closed my eyes, pretending, just for a little longer, that this wasn’t temporary.
That I wouldn’t wake up and find us right back where we started.
But pretending didn’t change reality.
And the reality was, this wouldn’t last.
The storm had passed. And so had our moment.