Chapter 21
It felt like a dream, him standing in front of her house in jeans and a dark T-shirt, his beard grown in as long as she’d ever seen it, dark circles under his eyes.
He looked up as she shot out of the house and ran toward him, and maybe he needed a second before they touched but she didn’t care, she needed to hold him so badly, to know he was really here, to know he wasn’t gone.
“Are you okay?” She was already in tears as she threw herself into his arms, and he was hugging her so tightly she didn’t know if she could really breathe, but it didn’t matter, she didn’t need to breathe, she only needed him. “I was so worried about you. Oh my god, I was so worried.”
“Why were you worried?” His voice was shaking. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”
“No it isn’t.” Anya moved back enough so she could see his face, his wonderful, perfect face that she had been so unbelievably stupid to leave.
“Did you have to talk to the police? Did you have to let your staff go? Were you so afraid? Who was taking care of you? It must have been the worst week of your life. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. ”
“Anya, it wasn’t the worst week of my life,” he said. “It wasn’t even the worst week of my year.”
“I don’t know how you could tell the difference.” Anya stifled a sob. “Every week since April has been just as bad as the last.”
“God, that’s the truth.” He exhaled heavily, and she leaned into him, pressing her cheek against his chest, listening to the rapid pulse of his heart.
“I’m so sorry, Gabe,” she said. “I’ve never been so sorry for anything in my life.”
“I know, An. I’m sorry too.”
“For what?” She looked up at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He gave her a look. “Besides crush your dreams and work for a criminal?”
“Incredibly, still not worse than what I did,” Anya grumbled, and he hugged her again.
“Is it okay if we sit for a second?” he asked. “I’ve been driving all day. I’m so tired.”
“Oh my god, of course.” She sat down on the lawn and pulled him down next to her.
She wanted to crawl into his lap, but she also wanted to see his face, so she settled for pressing her legs against his and threading their fingers together.
She glanced up at his SUV; the back was full of boxes.
“Did you come straight here from Maryland?”
He nodded. “I packed up yesterday. I had my hotel room booked for the convention, and I knew you guys were here, so I didn’t really think about it. I just drove here.”
“I’m so glad you did.” Anya squeezed his hands. “You should be with us right now.”
“Yeah.” Gabe let himself smile a tiny bit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”
“So what happened?” Anya asked. “Or, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’ve just been thinking about you nonstop this week. Not that I wasn’t before.”
“You were, huh?” He smiled a little wider.
“Something new and different for me.” Anya smiled back. She felt so nervous, like they were flirting for the very first time.
“The stuff with Wheeler…” Gabe let out a long sigh.
“The consultants kept looking for budget cuts, and they kept sending more and more money to the PAC. It didn’t make sense to me.
We were raising so much money, and I couldn’t figure out where it was going.
Until I went through the PAC records myself and saw how much money was being funneled toward a multimillion-dollar horse farm—which is also when I realized the entire situation was way above my pay grade.
My dad got me a lawyer, and she helped me report what I’d found to the FBI.
It turned out they’d already been investigating Wheeler for a year. ”
“Gabe,” Anya breathed. “You talked to the FBI?”
“Had to.” Gabe shrugged.
“Because it would sink the campaign if the news broke?” Anya asked.
“No.” Gabe shook his head. “Because a man like that should never be president.”
Anya felt overwhelmed—that he’d done this heroic thing, that he was sitting on her father’s front lawn telling her about it. That however much she thought she loved him, he kept finding new ways to make her love him even more.
“That was incredibly brave of you,” she said.
“I hope people see it that way, if it comes out.”
“What do you mean?” Anya frowned. “How else could they see it?”
“That I sold my boss out to the feds and can never be trusted or employed in politics ever again?”
“That’s not going to happen,” Anya said emphatically. “And if it does, we’ll change our names and move to that farm you promised me.”
“Did you ever get us those new passports?” He raised his eyebrows.
“No, I’m a terrible co-conspirator.”
“But a very cute one.”
He caught her eye. She thought maybe he wanted to kiss her. But she couldn’t let him, not yet.
“Gabe, I need to say something to you.”
His face turned more serious. “What is it?”
“In April, you were right. You were completely right about what I was doing and why. I just couldn’t see it.
I was so angry with you, and I was in so much pain, and I thought, I have to get away from this.
I couldn’t figure out anything else to do.
But I want you to know that’s never going to happen again. ”
“No?” He blinked a couple of times. “How do you know?”
“Because you’re my family.” Her voice broke.
“And you don’t— I mean, you never stop being someone’s family, no matter what happens.
And I think about, like, what I would give for one more day with my mom.
Or what you would give for one more day with Danny.
That’s how I feel about you. I’d give anything. ”
“Anya.” Gabe pulled her toward him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He held her close, and she let herself be completely immersed in the feel of his body, the sounds of their breathing.
He closed the last inches between them, or maybe she did—she couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter.
All that mattered was his lips against hers, the grip of his hands, the warmth of his skin.
She never wanted to think again about all the ways they’d hurt each other, all the time they’d wasted.
There was nothing left but gratitude—for his goodness, for his forgiveness, for this moment and every one after.
She was grateful that they were alive.
Gabe could have spent forever sitting on that lawn kissing Anya, him in his sweaty road trip clothes, Anya in her pajamas.
It was such an overwhelmingly emotional night (on top of an overwhelmingly emotional week, and month, and year) that Gabe couldn’t begin to process all of it.
All he could feel was gratitude that Anya was back in his arms—and that the pajamas meant she wasn’t wearing a bra.
God, he’d missed her body, her smell, her touch.
He’d missed her so much these past three months that he didn’t care who was right or wrong anymore; it didn’t make a difference. The only thing he cared about was Anya.
He didn’t know how long they sat on that damp grass, tangled in each other’s arms, but eventually Gabe looked up.
“Um, An?”
“What is it?”
“I think someone’s up.”
“I noticed,” she cooed as she reached her hand between his legs. And fuck that felt good, but—
“No, I mean— Anya! The house.”
“What?” She looked confused, then turned around and saw—almost all of the lights inside the house were on.
“Shit,” she muttered. “They were supposed to go to sleep.”
“This crowd? The night before the convention?” Gabe’s tone was jokey, but his heart ached. He remembered how good it felt to pull an all-nighter with this exact group of people, laughing and eating cold takeout and feeling this unbelievable sense of purpose.
“Fair point,” Anya said. “Should we go to your hotel?”
He wanted that. He wanted the woman he loved in a luxurious suite at the Drake Hotel—in the bathtub, on the floor, in the bed.
Except…
“Kira’s in there, right?”
He swallowed hard. He missed his best friend almost as much as he missed Anya.
“She is,” Anya confirmed. “And Simone. And Preethi and Dale.”
“And the senator?” Gabe asked.
“Mm-hmm. And her husband.”
“Really? Chase is here?” Gabe felt a little lift; he and the senator’s husband had always gotten along exceptionally well. But that was before this campaign cycle. Gabe had no idea how Chase felt about him now—or how any of them did.
“And my dad, obviously,” Anya went on. “He just totally blew up your spot, by the way.”
“My spot?” Gabe frowned in confusion.
“About Orcas,” Anya explained. “He told me it was your idea for Sierra to run, and for me to go and help her.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s true.” Gabe smiled at Anya, and she squeezed him tightly.
“You’re a good person,” Anya told him. “Everyone in that house knows it just as much as I do. I promise, okay?”
“So you don’t think…You don’t think it’d be weird? For me to be here?”
Anya tilted her head and peered at him.
“Do you want to be here?” she asked. “I mean, do you want to work for Jo again?”
It felt like too much to hope for, let alone voice out loud, that Gabe could somehow reverse all his mistakes of the past year in one fell swoop. That he could be back with Anya, back with Kira and Simone and the team, back working for Jo.
“Anya, how could that even be a possibility?” he asked. “I worked for Wheeler—”
“And you’re the reason he’s out of this race. You’re the only reason Jo has another shot at this. If you hadn’t come forward, who knows what the FBI would have done? They probably would have waited to arrest Wheeler until the week before the election and we’d have lost for sure.”
“Jesus, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Gabe said. “You’re right.”
“As usual,” Anya joked, and Gabe laughed. The sound came out awkward and wrong, but it felt good, like it was breaking up some of the tension inside him.
“So listen,” Anya said, her tone encouraging. “We’ll go inside. We’ll explain the situation, and we’ll see. Whatever happens, we’ll figure out what we do next together. I go where you go, yeah?”
Gabe looked up sharply. “You don’t mean that. You can’t quit working for Jo.”