8. Don’t Fall in Love on a Bus
don't fall in love on a bus
Gabriel
Gabriel was falling in love on a bus.
Which was inconvenient, impractical, and happening anyway.
They were one day out from Tadoussac, the final stop, the livestream event, the end of the tour, and he couldn't stop thinking about what came after.
After the bus. After the campaign. After they went back to their separate lives in separate provinces, and pretended the last week hadn't changed everything.
He was lying in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, when his phone rang.
Tante élise. Of course.
"All??"
"Mon chou. How are things?"
"Fine. Good. We're almost done."
"You sound miserable."
Gabriel closed his eyes. "I'm not miserable."
"You're lying. What happened?"
"Nothing happened. The tour's been successful. The Collective is happy. Everything's going according to plan."
"Gabriel Bouchard, I changed your diapers. I know when you're being evasive." There was a pause. "It's the wine girl, isn't it?"
"Her name is Marnie."
"So it is her. What's wrong?"
Gabriel sat up, rubbing his face. "I think I'm in love with her."
"And this is a problem because...?"
"Because she's terrified. Because she's been hurt before and she's not sure she wants to try again. Because we live three hours apart and have completely different lives and..." He stopped. "Because I promised to give her time, and now we’re out of time, and I’m terrified I blew my only chance."
Tante élise was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was softer.
"Do you remember when your papa died? When you took over the fromagerie?"
"Of course."
"You were so scared. You wanted to honor him, but you didn't know if you could. You thought you needed to have everything figured out before you started."
"I remember."
"And what did I tell you?"
Gabriel smiled slightly. "You told me to stop thinking and start doing. That I'd figure it out as I went."
"Exactly. Love is the same way, mon chou. You can't plan it. You can't control it. You just have to trust that it'll work out."
"What if it doesn't?"
"Then at least you tried. At least you were brave enough to want something." She paused. "Don't let fear make your decisions for you, Gabriel. You're better than that."
After they hung up, Gabriel lay back down and listened to the bus sounds around him. Clara's phone notifications. Darnell's quiet music. The road humming beneath them.
And across the corridor, Marnie shifting in her bunk, probably reviewing her notes for tomorrow. Probably planning. Probably terrified.
He understood terrified.
But he also understood that sometimes you had to jump anyway.
* * *
The next morning, Kayla called an emergency meeting in the dining nook.
"Okay, team. Final day. We need this livestream to be perfect.
" She pulled up her tablet. "The venue in Tadoussac is gorgeous, right on the water, sunset views, very romantic.
We'll have a live audience of about fifty people, plus however many tune in online.
Marnie, you'll do the wine intros. Gabriel, you'll handle the cheese.
And we'll do live pairings with audience participation. "
"Sounds good," Marnie said. She was wearing her professional face again, the one she used when she wanted to hide.
"There's one more thing." Kayla looked between them. "The PR firm wants to do a couples segment at the end. Nothing major, just a Q&A about your experience on the tour. Thoughts?"
"No," Marnie said immediately.
"It would be great for engagement," Kayla pressed. "People are invested in your story. They want to see the payoff."
"There is no payoff. We're not a couple."
"But you could be," Clara chimed in. "I mean, the chemistry is there. Everyone can see it."
"Everyone seeing it doesn't make it real," Marnie said, her voice tight.
Gabriel had been quiet, but now he spoke. "Marnie's right. We shouldn't do anything she's not comfortable with."
Marnie glanced at him, surprise flickering across her face.
"But," Gabriel continued, "I think we should talk about it. Privately. Before we decide."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Marnie..."
"I said no, Gabriel. I'm not doing a couples segment where we pretend to be something we're not."
"What if we're not pretending?"
The bus went silent.
Marnie stared at him. "What?"
"What if we stopped pretending we don't feel this? What if we were honest? Just for once?"
"Gabriel, this isn't the time..."
"When is the time, Marnie? After the tour? When we go back to our separate lives and pretend this week didn't happen?" He leaned forward. "I'm tired of pretending. I like you. Really like you. And I think you like me too, but you're too scared to admit it."
Marnie's cheeks flushed. "That's not fair."
"It's true."
"You can't just, you can't ambush me with this in front of everyone!"
"You're right. I'm sorry." Gabriel stood. "Can we talk? Alone?"
Marnie looked at Kayla, at Clara, at Darnell, who was suddenly very interested in his camera settings.
"Fine," she said. "But this conversation isn't going to change anything."
"Noted."
They moved to the back of the bus, as far from the others as they could get. Gabriel could feel his heart pounding against his ribs.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have pushed. Not like that."
"No, you shouldn't have."
"But I meant what I said. I'm tired of pretending I don't feel this way about you."
Marnie crossed her arms. "And how do you feel about me, exactly?"
"Like I want to know what your favorite book is.
Like I want to teach you how to make proper poutine.
Like I want to wake up across from you every morning and argue about whether schedules are necessary.
" He took a breath. "Like I'm falling in love with you, Marnie.
And it scares me too, but I'd rather be scared with you than safe without you. "
She was staring at him, eyes wide, something vulnerable and terrified in her expression.
"I can't," she whispered.
"Can't or won't?"
"Both. Neither. I don't know." She pressed her hands to her face. "Gabriel, you're asking me to risk everything for something that might not work out."
"I'm asking you to take a chance on us."
"And what happens when you realize I'm exactly what Derek said? Too boring, too predictable, too..."
"Stop." Gabriel stepped closer. "Derek was wrong. About all of it. You're not boring, you're careful. You're not predictable, you're thoughtful. And anyone who can't see the difference doesn't deserve you."
"You say that now..."
"I'll say it tomorrow. And next week. And next month, if you let me."
Marnie looked at him with something like longing. "What if I'm too broken to do this?"
"You're not broken. You're scared. And that's okay. I'm scared too."
"You don't look scared."
"I'm terrified. But I'd rather try and fail than never try at all."
She was silent for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was small.
"I want to say yes right now. But that's my fear talking—wanting to plan it out, control the outcome." She looked up at him. "I need to sit with this. Really think about what I want, not what I'm afraid of."
Gabriel felt something crack in his chest, but he nodded. "Okay."
"You're not mad?"
"Mad? Marnie, you're doing exactly what you should—making a real choice instead of a scared one." He managed a smile. "Take whatever time you need."
Just don't take forever, he thought but didn't say.
* * *
That afternoon, Gabriel overheard something he wished he hadn't.
He was in the tiny kitchenette, making tea, when Marnie's voice drifted from the bunk area. She was on the phone, her tone professional and clipped.
"Yes, I understand the concern. No, there's nothing unprofessional happening. It's just good marketing." A pause. "Of course. I'll make sure the focus stays on the wine. Yes. Thank you."
She hung up.
Gabriel stood very still, tea forgotten.
That had been her boss. Making sure the focus stayed on the wine. Making sure Marnie kept things professional.
Making sure she didn't do anything risky.
Like fall for a cheesemaker from Quebec.
Gabriel set down the kettle and walked back to his bunk, feeling something cold settle in his stomach.
He'd asked her to take a chance on him. But he hadn't considered what that chance might cost her. Her job. Her reputation. Her carefully built career.
Maybe he'd been selfish. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut and let the tour end the way it was supposed to, professionally, cleanly, with no complications.
But he'd gone and fallen in love with her instead.
Tabarouette.
* * *
That evening, they boondocked at a rest stop overlooking the Saint Lawrence. The sun was setting, painting the water gold and amber, and the team scattered to their various corners.
Gabriel sat outside on the picnic table, Maurice curled in his lap, and tried not to think about tomorrow.
The final event. The end of the tour. Goodbye.
He didn't want goodbye.
But he also didn't want to be the reason Marnie lost something she'd worked so hard for.
"Hey."
He looked up. Marnie stood a few feet away, wrapped in a cardigan, looking uncertain.
"Can I sit?" she asked.
"Yeah. Of course."
She climbed onto the table beside him, leaving a careful distance between them.
"I heard you making tea earlier," she said. "I was on the phone."
"I know. I heard."
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Enough."
She was quiet for a moment. "My boss called. Someone forwarded him the Gazette article. He wanted to make sure I was staying focused. That I wasn't letting personal feelings interfere with work."
"And what did you tell him?"
"I lied. I told him there was nothing happening between us, but there is. Or there could be. I don't know. But it's not nothing." She took a shaky breath. "And I've been thinking about what you said. About taking chances. About trying even when you're scared."
"Marnie..."
"I'm not good at this. At being spontaneous or trusting that things will work out. But I..." She stopped, gathering courage. "I want to try. With you. If you still want to."
Gabriel felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. "Are you serious?"
"I'm terrified. But yes."
"What about your boss? Your job?"
"I'll figure it out. Maybe I can't control everything. Maybe that's okay." She turned to face him fully. "You make me want to try, Gabriel. You make me want to be brave."
He set Maurice gently on the table and took her hands.
"You're already brave," he said. "You just needed to see it."
"I'm still going to panic sometimes. And plan things to death. And probably drive you crazy."
"I'm counting on it."
"And I can't promise this will be easy..."
"Marnie." He squeezed her hands. "I don't want easy. I want you."
She smiled then, genuine, unguarded, a little watery.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. Let's try."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Gabriel felt something huge and terrifying and wonderful open up in his chest.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Not yet."
His eyebrows rose. "No?"
"I want to. I really, really want to. But..." She glanced toward the bus, where Clara was probably filming something. "Not with an audience. Not for content. Just... us. When it's right."
Gabriel understood. She needed this to be real, not performed.
"Tomorrow?" he suggested. "After the livestream?"
"After the livestream," she agreed.
They sat in comfortable silence, hands still linked, the sunset painting everything gold.
Maurice chirped from his spot on the table.
"I think he approves," Marnie said.
"He has excellent judgment."
Maurice sneezed. Or maybe that was his version of approval. Either way, Marnie laughed, and for the first time all week, Gabriel didn’t feel nervous. He just felt lucky.
She leaned her head against Gabriel's shoulder, and he felt something settle in his chest, something like peace, like rightness, like home.