His appreciative smile warmed her right through and tightened her chest.
“I’m glad you stayed. It’s worth it, right, to see how these life skills groups are helping the residents?”
She nodded.
God had brought them together for a reason.
They’d started dating because of the university gossip, but it had become far more. They hadn’t kissed again. They’d both been careful to keep things on a friendship level, until they could be sure what they felt was more than just the procedure. She still believed this was a transitional thing for Gabe, part of healing his grief, that wouldn’t last.
But as she helped him with his loss and his loneliness, he helped cure her cynicism and hardness of heart.
This was all part of God’s plan for their lives, though whatever they shared would end when they went their separate ways at the end of their contracts here.
What happened in London, stayed in London.
It was better and safer that way. No one was left hurting.
Okay, she seemed to remember saying something similar about Paris, too, but this time she really was right.
Knowing that didn’t bring her the same smug glee being right normally did.
They stepped into the entry. Instead of being gloomy and depressing to match the Victorian workhouse exterior, it was as light and welcoming as the brightly painted front door.
Simon, the shelter manager, hurried over to greet them, a wide smile on his homely freckled face.
“Zoe, Gabe, so good to see you again.” He shook both their hands enthusiastically. “Word seems to be getting out about the group. It’s developing into a valuable outreach.”
She smiled back, satisfaction glowing in her. “Wonderful!”
The life skills project felt like their own personal baby. No wonder Tiff had been so defensive when she’d quoted those pessimistic research figures about success rates of back-to-work schemes, thinking she was being helpful.
In the end, the numbers weren’t nearly as important as making a difference, even to only one person.
While Gabe stayed chatting with Simon, she walked through into the big open plan lounge-dining room. A young woman with jet black spiky hair, sitting at one of the small tables, glanced up from her book, then looked away again dismissively.
But Brian, a fifty something balding resident with Down syndrome who’d been sweeping the floor propped his broom against the wall and rushed over holding out a hand. “Hello, Zoe. You and Gabe came back.”
She gave his hand an especially wholehearted shake. “We’ll visit every Saturday, Brian. It’s wonderful to see you again. Looks like you’ve been hard at work.”
“I want to help. People have been good to me, so I need to be good too.”
“You are. Very good.”
He beamed.
Maybe Tiff could find a place for Brian in her scheme, too?
Simon had explained how Brian came to the shelter from the hospital. He and his elderly mother fell ill with pneumonia, only discovered when the agent came chasing the unpaid rent. His mother died. Brian recovered, but the landlord had evicted them, leaving him with no family, and no home.
She could cry at the thought of this lovely man having no place to go. Her whole life, she’d been oblivious to the need, to the stories behind the people on the streets she’d walked past every day in L.A.
And every one of the guests and volunteers waiting for the session to begin had a story.
People weren’t just statistics, the way she’d tried to believe.
A sprightly older gentleman marched over, leaving the group of residents he’d been chatting with. A twinkling smile offset his erect military bearing.
“Hello,” she said, biting her lip as she tried to remember his name.
They’d met at a Pettett and Mayfield’s meeting. He’d been living on the streets and ended up in the shelter, even though he part-owned the department store. Nick and Cara had helped him get back on his feet again, and then he’d helped Tiff gain permission for her scheme. Now, he volunteered at the shelter.
She remembered his story. But his name eluded her.
His smile held a twinkle of mischief. “Admit it, dear girl. You can’t remember my name, can you?”
Her cheeks heated, knowing she’d been caught out. “All I can think of is Mr Pettett,” she admitted. “But I know you wanted us to call you by your first name, and no, stupidly I can’t recall it.”
“It’s William!” crowed Brian, puffing out his chest with pride. “I remember names!”
“You have a very good memory.” Zoe grinned at him and William, then glanced around, looking for Gabe. “It’s almost time to start.”
Her heart stuttered as he hurried in, his smiling hazel eyes focused on her. Somehow, he made her feel special and valued.
She liked that.
Maybe, she liked it a little too much.
The session on communication skills went smoothly. She and Gabe worked well together. Even Vanessa, the spiky haired girl joined in, though that probably had more to do with Gabe’s appeal than Zoe’s attempts to include her.
After they wrapped up, Zoe stood chatting with Gabe and William.
“Jolly good ideas for talking to people so they listen,” the older man said. “I might be able to use them with my dear sister-in-law.” He shook his white haired head with a regretful smile. “She’s changed so much from the girl I fell in love with sixty years ago. But one thing I’ve learned in my long life, one doesn’t ever stop loving one’s first love, no matter how long ago it was or how much they’ve changed.”
Zoe nodded, but she wasn’t sure.
Was Brad still the love of her life, the one and only, leaving her unable to love again when she’d lost him? She’d been in the habit of thinking of him that way, but maybe it was time to reconsider. When she’d heard about his impending divorce, she’d felt only sadness for him.
Well, that wasn’t quite true. They’d been a little hint of ‘serves you right’ mixed in too. Plus it gave more proof for her theory that relationships based on limerence didn’t last.
If Brad tried to win her back? She just didn’t know if she could trust him again. And she hadn’t felt much of a flutter when he’d sent that email.
Zoe glanced at Gabe, and a sigh escaped her.
He threw her a concerned and questioning look, then squeezed her hand. His gaze said he’d guessed she was thinking of Brad and wanted to comfort her.
Realisation shook her. It wasn’t Brad she was thinking of.
It was Gabe.
Instead of wishing Brad had truly loved her, she wished she and Gabe had met later, when he was further along in the grieving process, not so raw and vulnerable. Relationships started in a crisis or when a person grieved a recent loss rarely lasted, and more than relationships based on limerence did.
She wished she hadn’t recklessly challenged him to the experiment the day they’d met, leaving her unsure if the closeness they felt would have developed naturally. Neither of them could totally trust their feelings for each other, even six weeks later.
Once she was alone, she needed to pray about things with Gabe.
Really pray, not just go through the motions.
Pinning on a chirpy smile, she got through the small talk and the arrangements with Simon for next week’s session.
As they left the shelter, Gabe grabbed her hand, and smiled. Sweet regretful warmth trembled through her. Once Patrick returned to work the following week, Gabe would move offices. They’d see a lot less of each other. Their friendship would change. It seemed as if their separation was already beginning.
Again, she sighed.
Couldn’t she forget this need for proof things would last, and accept that Gabe did care for her? So what if it was just the experiment. Why not trust in God and keep accepting this gift of Gabe’s presence, for as long as it lasted?
She’d done fine with that for the past weeks, but William talking about first lov
e stirred up feelings and questions she didn’t want to examine too closely.
Subduing the urge to run away, she forced her stiff hand to relax into Gabe’s warm gentle clasp. He ambled happily beside her, smiling and swinging her hand in his. It seemed like just being together was enough for him.
Maybe she was thinking too hard, overcomplicating things.
Taking advantage of the late March sunshine, they dawdled their way back to her apartment, via the small parks and garden squares along the way. He’d worked out a roundabout route that took them through twelve gardens on one short walk.
“Down here,” he said, leading her through a gateway, into another small jewel of a public garden, hidden away behind high walls.
Red brick paving surrounded a tiny lawn. Yellow daffodils danced in the spring sunlight. A robin sat on a branch, just inches away from them, bold and unafraid. A squirrel ventured across the grass, looked at them, then turned tail and ran up the tree. The branches wore a green haze of swelling buds and tiny new leaves.
She reached out to brush her fingers over a fat bud, and could almost feel the life inside, ready to burst out of it. Despite her doubts and questions, she felt the same. Something alive and vital and God-given had planted itself in her heart and soul.
Thanks to Gabe.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” She smiled, and clasped his hand tighter. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have walked right past the entrance, not even knowing it was here.”
He grinned. “Next week, I’ll find us another route. Different gardens.”
“So today’s twelve wasn’t enough?” she teased.
“I know you like fountains. There’s supposed to be one tucked away somewhere in this area, but I haven’t found it yet.”
He seemed to go out of his way to find things to delight her. It truly was a blessing to have him in her life, even if only for a little while.
Yes, she liked the limerence feelings too. The buzz of adrenaline, the racing pulse, the tingling nerve endings, the delightful anticipation, the jump of her heart when she saw him. But it was far more than that. There was something else, something deeper.
She respected his integrity and his rock solid faith. His quiet stability gave her the security and balance she needed. The thought of losing what they had clenched her heart painfully.
It all seemed too good to be true, as it the slightest touch could break the fairy tale spell, and the door to the secret garden she’d stumbled into would slam in her face, keeping her out forever.
She didn’t want that door to shut.
As if he sensed her gaze, he turned to her and their eyes met. His fingers tightened on hers, and his eyes darkened. The intensity of his gaze and the wild emotion fountaining up in her made her tremble.
In that moment, she felt more cherished than she’d ever felt before. Her heart, the heart she’d assumed was smashed into fragments by Brad, felt whole again.
And the feeling terrified her.
She couldn’t bear to get used to having this, and then lose it. She couldn’t risk her heart on a love that wouldn’t last. Whole hearts could be broken again.
Gabe was twice the man Brad had been. Dependable, honest, and true.
But he was in transition, not ready to fall in love. Not in the lifetime way she wanted.
Her own feelings weren’t trustworthy either.
Pulling her gaze away from his with an effort, she turned toward the gate. “We’d better get going. We can’t stand here all day.”
Her brisk, no-nonsense tone sounded ridiculously loud and out of place.
Like a slamming door.
She’d been the one to shut herself out of the secret garden.
As they walked back to the street, she felt his disappointment. Felt the way his clasp on her hand loosened, his easy loping stride stiffened to a marching step.
Sharp regret ricocheted through her. If only she could be braver, free of her fear and her doubts.
They didn’t speak on the short walk back to the apartment.
At the entry door, Gabe turned to her. “Zoe, we need to talk, can I come in?”
Something in his tone, in the seriousness in his eyes, panicked her. “Can’t we talk out here? We won’t have any privacy upstairs, Tiff is home.”
She babbled with nerves. That was a ridiculous thing to say. As if busy Baker Street was any more private.
He reached his hands out to her, but instinctively she stepped back from him.
Shaking his head a little, he scrubbed his hands through his hair and his mouth twisted. “Zoe, you’re like a little wild creature. Like that squirrel in the garden.” His voice held a hint of exasperation. “The last thing I want is to scare you away. Now’s clearly not the right time for what I wanted to ask you.” He examined her, his eyes asking a question she couldn’t quite decipher. “Maybe it won’t ever be the right time.”
“What did you want to ask me?” Her hands clasped in front of her, and she tensed, waiting for him to reply. Whatever he planned to say, she knew she wouldn’t like it. He seemed tense, and his edginess infected her, made her jittery and apprehensive. “If it’s important, best to say it now.”
His eyes held doubt, and for a long moment he hesitated. “You know the community college in Orchard Bridge, the town nearest my home back in Oregon, has asked me to teach for them next academic year?”
She nodded.
“You told me that, yes.” Her stomach stayed tight, and her voice rang higher than she intended, sounding forced and false. Why was he making such a big deal of something she already knew?
“The college is pushing for an answer. They want to know by Monday.” He stopped, seeming not to have words for whatever he wanted to say. Then speech rushed from him. “I don’t want to pressure you. I know it’s too soon. But I guess I need to know if you see us ever being more than just work colleagues and friends?” The look he cast her was questioning and diffident, as if he doubted she’d want to be with him.
She felt boiling hot and icy cold, both at once. Her mind seemed frozen, and her heart stilled in her chest.
All she could do was stare at him.
“I… I don’t know.” She struggled to force the words from her suddenly dry mouth. “We’ve only known each other six weeks. Because we did the procedure, neither of us can be sure what we feel is real. You’re in transition, getting over losing your parents. It is too soon.”
Every word felt like a hammer blow, putting a nail in the coffin of their relationship.
He shook his head, and his voice held more sureness. “It seems to me you’re in transition too, not just me. I saw how you looked when William mentioned first loves. I don’t think you’d even begun getting over Brad when we met. I still don’t think you’re over Brad.”
She had her mouth open to protest that she was over Brad, when with the worst possible timing, a voice she remembered far too well called her name.
The door of the black cab that pulled up beside them opened, and a tall figure stepped out. The man who’d haunted her dreams for almost all of the past six years, no matter how she’d tried to stop it.
Brad, his handsome face beaming, his arms full of red roses.
Her heart lurched.
What was he doing here, now?
“Zoe,” he said, rushing toward her, sweeping her into a kiss that crushed the roses between them.
Shocked, she didn’t resist, but she didn’t kiss him back either.
He lifted his head to stare down at her, keeping his arms wrapped around her.
“I made a huge mistake, princess. I’ve always regretted the way I hurt you.” He smiled, like he was giving her a million dollars. “When I got your message agreeing to see me again, I knew I had to give it another try. My divorce came through. So here I am.”
Feeling powerless as the situation spiralled hopelessly out of control, she looked to Gabe.
His face was closed and shuttered, giving away nothing of what he felt. His smile tightened his l
ips but didn’t meet his eyes.
“I guess I have my answer,” he said, shrugging as if it didn’t really matter to him. “We’re work colleagues. I’m fine with that. I want you to be happy, Zoe.”
Then he turned and walked away.
A huge painful knot of confusion rose in her chest, choking her, stopping her speaking.
All she could do was watch him go.
Chapter 20
Zoe broke free of Brad's embrace and took a step after Gabe. Her mouth opened, ready to call out his name.
Then she stopped. What could she say? ‘It's not Brad I want, it’s you, it's always been you’?
That wasn’t true.
It had always been Brad.
Up until six weeks ago, she’d spent all those years since her teens closed to romance because of Brad, apart from that one brief blip with Adrian. And now here Brad was, back in her life.
Just when she didn't need the complication.
Lord, what’s happening here? What do You want me to do?
She didn't get an obvious reply. No thunder from heaven telling her what she should do. No sudden sense of sureness. Not even a little whisper in her heart.
Nothing.
Lost and bewildered, she glanced from Brad, standing there, arms open, a huge happy-to-see-you grin on his face, to Gabe's retreating back as he walked away.
If only Gabe had stayed, shown her what he felt, what he wanted, she might have had a chance to decide. If only he'd turn around and let her see his face.
But he didn't. He kept walking, without looking back.
Whatever they’d shared felt over.
She'd proved her point. Anyone could be made to fall in love with anyone, but it wasn’t real and it wouldn't last when tested. She was right.
Instead of triumph, she only felt loss, numb and empty inside. Her legs felt too heavy to move. She didn’t know what to do.
But Brad was there, more than willing to decide for her, with his usual energy and enthusiasm. He snaked an arm around her and drew her toward him again.
“Who was that?” he asked.
With one last longing look after Gabe, she turned to Brad. “A friend. One of the lecturers from the university. We’re running some sessions together at the local homeless shelter.”
Forget Paris: Sweet and clean Christian romance in Paris and London (Love In Store Book 4) Page 14
