45. Gabriel #2
“Of course,” Reid says. There’s a crease in the center of his forehead, just above his glasses.
I recognize it well. He gets that look on his face whenever he thinks one of us has been stupid, but he’s too reserved to actually say it out loud.
It’s an expression he usually reserves for Beckett or Dominic.
I’m not used to being on the receiving end, and it stings a bit.
“Beck’s just out in the hall, he’ll be in a second.
Tristan couldn’t get away, but he said to let you know he’s thinking about both of you, and he’ll drop by when he can. ”
“It’s okay.” I sigh, leaning back in the chair. “You can tell him not to worry about it. The doctor said she’s fine, just needs fluids and rest.”
Reid presses his lips into a thin line. “What happened?”
“Stress-induced syncope,” I say, repeating the doctor’s earlier comment. I’ve never heard it before, but Reid probably has. “She passed out after… well…” I hesitate, glancing down at Peyton.
Reid seems to catch my meaning and clears his throat. “Hey, kiddo, why don’t you go figure out what’s taking Uncle Beckett so long at the vending machine?”
Peyton turns to face him. She seems disoriented, frightened.
“Make sure he gets some Skittles, Bug,” I add, forcing a grin. “I think everyone here could use some Skittles.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. She slips out of my lap and wanders over to the door, casting a last look over her shoulder before disappearing into the hallway. I hear the low sound of Beckett’s voice as she joins him at the vending machine.
“What happened?” Dominic asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“There was a confrontation with her family,” I tell them. “And Travis.”
“Whitaker?” Reid says sharply. “I thought you told that fucker—”
“Yeah. He didn’t exactly get the message.” I breathe out through my nose, my jaw tightening. “This whole mess… it’s because of him.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s the reason I had to divorce her.”
I start to explain the situation to the two of them—Vérité’s tax evasion scheme, how the Beaumonts implicated Alexis, how Travis came to my office to blackmail me into the divorce, and how I’ve been working with lawyers to get Alexis in the clear.
As I speak, Reid’s face darkens even further, and Dominic clenches his fists at his sides.
When I’m finished, Dominic utters a short curse under his breath.
“What the fuck?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell us about it? We could’ve helped you!”
“I wanted to,” I admit. “But I couldn’t. I had to handle it myself before anyone found out—before Travis went public. He had his finger on the trigger. I couldn’t let him get wind of what I was doing until it was done, or he was going to ruin her.”
Alexis stirs in her sleep, murmuring something unintelligible. I run my thumb over her knuckles, and after a few seconds, her breathing evens out once more. At least I have the power to comfort her in some small way.
“And her parents?” Reid asks, his lip curling. “They were going to frame her?”
I nod. “Her name was all over the documents. If the truth came out, she would’ve taken the fall instead of them.”
“I can’t believe that.” Reid shakes his head. “I know our parents weren’t perfect, but the Beaumonts make them look like goddamn saints. I mean… everything Dad did, he did to protect us. And Beaumont was willing to send his daughter to prison.”
Silence falls over the room as all three of us digest that. Then Dominic breaks it with a pointed cough. “So… you and Alexis…”
“I don’t know,” I say, answering his unspoken question. “She’s not exactly happy with me.”
Reid’s expression twists into a grimace. “I wouldn’t be, either.” I shoot him a glare, and he shrugs, unrepentant. “What? You kind of fucked up.”
I can’t argue with that. I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I did.”
Dominic leans back against the wall, tucking his hands into his pockets. “So, what’s your plan? Just wait for her to forgive you?”
“I don’t expect her to just forgive me. I lied to her. I hurt her.” I glance down at Alexis, my chest tightening. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
Reid opens his mouth to respond, his expression now sympathetic, but before he can say anything, Beckett enters the room. Peyton is hanging off one of his arms, looking marginally more cheerful. In his other hand, he holds three king-size packs of Skittles.
“Per your request, your Highness.” He lifts his chin, tossing me one of the bags of candy. He slips another to Peyton. “And one for the princess.”
Peyton giggles and skips back over toward me. I give Beckett a grateful nod.
“I owe you one.”
“It’s Skittles.” He shrugs, tearing open his own bag with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not like I took a bullet for you.”
Reid snorts, and Dominic shakes his head. “I hope you can fix things, Gabe,” Dom says, his tone serious despite the note of levity Beckett brought to the room. “She’s good for you.”
“Yeah,” I say heavily.
“Seriously,” he presses. “We’ve all thought so for a while. She’s got a good heart. And she actually puts up with your brooding ass, which is a miracle in and of itself.”
Beckett grins. “Yeah, she makes you almost tolerable. It’d be a damn shame to lose that.”
I throw a Skittle at him. He catches it and pops it into his mouth.
“You two need to watch your language,” I mutter, pulling Peyton back into my lap. “There are young ears here.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Peyton says innocently. “I don’t say any of the bad words.”
“That’s because you’re more mature than your uncles.” I ruffle her curls, then look back up at my brothers. “Are you guys heading back into the office?”
They all nod. “We’ll be around, if we can,” Reid says. “If you or Alexis needs anything, just say the word, and we’re there.”
“He means it,” Dominic interjects. “We all care about you—both of you. So don’t keep us out of the loop anymore. I’ve seen what happens when people wait too long to say something. Don’t do that shit.”
He gives me a hard look, and I know exactly what he means. No more handling everything on my own. No more shutting them out.
I exhale slowly, nodding. “I won’t.”
“Good.” With that, Dominic turns to leave. Beckett follows him, then Reid, who has his phone out and is typing furiously, probably updating Tristan.
Peyton, on my knee, glances up at me. “Uncle Beckett said that Alexis wasn’t hurt bad.”
“She’s not,” I assure her. “She just needed to drink more water.”
Peyton nods slowly, seeming reassured for the moment. She pulls her legs up and curls against my chest. “When she wakes up, do you think she’ll want some Skittles?”
“You’ll have to ask her, Bug.”
“Okay. I’ll save some, just in case.”
The two of us sit in silence for a minute, listening to the beeping sound of the vitals monitor beside Alexis’s bed. The chime of my cell phone breaks the quiet, and I check the screen to see a text from Tristan, then another, then a third, back to back to back.
TRISTAN: Reid told me what happened.
TRISTAN: A bit of unsolicited advice from a married guy who fucked up before. Don’t give up.
TRISTAN: Show her what she means to you.
I stare at the messages for a moment. His words are direct, cutting through the noise in my mind, the cloud of despair that’s settled over me since the divorce. Before that, even. Since the moment I saw the heartbroken look on Alexis’s face.
I type a quick, one-handed response.
ME: Thanks. I needed to hear that.
I’m not sure exactly what the next step is, but I know I can’t just wait around, mourning what I’ve lost and what I could have had.
I need to take action. To show Alexis how much she matters to me. How crucial she is to the life I want to build.