Love, Laughter, and Happily Ever Afters Collection (Eight Fun, Romantic Novels by Eight Bestselling Authors)
Page 96
With a shaky voice, she exhales. âMy-my mom called me. Sheâ¦toldâ¦tol-told me that my dad committed suicide yesterday.â
Dear God. I pull her to me and hug her tightly. Holding on to her, I feel the overwhelming grief over the loss of a father she never even knew, who had no interest in knowing her, only hurting her. The problem is, your father is still your father.
After several minutes, I force her green eyes to meet mine. âIâm so sorry, Fran. But listen to me. This isnât your fault. You didnât push him to this. He had severe issues and…â
Fran stops me mid-sentence. âIâm not crying because I blame myself, Gabby. Iâm crying because Iâm relieved that he can never hurt me again. Iâm fucking relieved because heâs dead. My own father. Isnât that sick?â
The tears start, and they donât stop. Iâm crying, too: for her, for her mom, even for her dad, who made his own decision. We sit together for what feels like hours, until Franâs tears subside. I lift her chin and look into those beautiful green eyes. âFran, your father hurt you in horrible, unthinkable ways. He was never a real father to you. Weâre brought into this world helpless and innocent, with nothing but love and trust for our parents. Your father took that away from you, and took advantage of that love. He didnât deserve your love. So, no, youâre not sick.â
She lets out a long, cleansing sigh. âI love you, Gabby.â
âI love you, too, Fran.â
Fran and I didnât watch movies tonight or eat junk food. But we did have our girlsâ night. Two girls who care about each other more than life, shut out the world and cocooned themselves with the strength and love of one another.
When Franâs finally asleep in my bed, I slip out to get a drink. My heart feels so weighted. She didnât deserve to have such a shitty father.
I take a seat on the sofa, curl up under a blanket and grab my book, feeling the need to get lost, even for just a little while. Concentrating on the book isnât even an option. I canât stop thinking about Franâs dad, about Clark, and about the source of disappointment I am to my parents. Thatâs when the tears start to fall. Itâs then that I hear my phone buzz. Itâs Brad.
âHi, baby.â The sound of his voice soothes me.
My shoulders slump down. âIâm so glad you called.â
âWhatâs wrong? You sound like youâre crying?â Heâs immediately concerned. He really cares about me.
âItâs Fran.â
âWhat about Fran?â His sincerity warms my heart.
I pull the blanket high up to my chest, as if it can shield me from the nightmares of the world. âShe found out today that her dad committed suicide.â It feels so good to let it out and tell Brad.
âGod, Gabby. How is she?â
âSheâs sleeping now, but itâs been a rough night.â
âDo you want me to come home?â
I want to say yes, but I know heâll be home tomorrow. âNo, itâs okay.â
âWill you tell Fran that Iâm thinking about her?â
âOf course.â
âYou okay, baby?â
Iâll be much better when you come home. âYeah. I just feel so bad for Fran, you know? She didnât deserve any of this.â
âI know.â
âHow are your meetings going?â I ask, desperate for a change of subject.
âGood, except I miss you.â
âI miss you, too. Oh, I have some good news, though. I went to Parsons The New School for Design today to talk about their Masterâs program.â
âThatâs great! How did it go?â His enthusiasm gives me so much self-confidence.
âReally well. Itâs given me a lot to think about. They actually have an information night next Wednesday, and I might go.â
âWell, if you want some company, Iâd love to come along. Remember how much you love my apartment? I do have a knack for design, after all.â I hear the smile in his voice and it makes me smile, too.
âIâd like that.â
âSo Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay. Hey, Brad?â
âYeah?â
âIâve been feeling really bad about some of the things my mom said to you at dinner the other day.â
âDonât feel bad. Youâre not responsible for your mom. Youâre completely separate from her. In fact, I think sheâs actually from another planet.â
His dig makes me giggle, but does nothing to ease my guilt. âShe was just so freaking condescending.â
âBaby, Iâve heard a lot worse. Anyway, itâs just life, right?â
Clark bumped my shoulder and shrugged his. âItâs just life, right?â
All the blood drains from my body and I go silent.
âGabby?â
Nothing.
âGabby? You still there?â
âYeah?â
âDream of me, okay.â
âOkay. Goodnight.â
My face feels wet and my nose is dripping. Running to the bathroom, I splash cold water over my face. My heart is beating fiercely and I canât control my breathing. Bending over the sink, I lean down on my knees. It feels like Iâm choking. Thereâs a lump in my throat and Iâm struggling for air. Breathe, Gabby, breathe. I exhale a harsh breath. Jesus. Itâs been well over three years, but I still see his face, feel his presence, and yearn for him like it was yesterday. Bradâs words. Clarkâs words. This has to be a sign. I was supposed to be with Clark. He was my happily ever after. But dammit, heâs dead and Iâm very much alive. Iâm supposed to feel dead inside, but Iâm starting to feel life. I just canât.
Iâm getting too close. I canât do this. Iâll end up losing him, just like Iâve lost everyone else. I look down at my courage bracelet and watch a single teardrop fall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THE SUN WAKES me up the next morning, and for the first time in a while Iâm not smiling. My eyes are puffy and my body feels stiff. I can barely drag myself out of bed. Thereâs nothing to look forward to today. My insides are twisting at the thought of what I need to do. I just hope Iâm strong enough to do it.
Iâm on my way to Bradâs apartment, pushing through the millions of bodies in the subway. I see no faces. Everything is blank. Just how I feel.
When he opens the door and I see his face, I almost lose it. He pulls me close and for a second I tell myself everything will be okay. But I know thatâs a lie.
Brad kisses me tenderly. âI missed you, baby.â
I pull back and stare into those penetrating brown eyes, my brain running wild, my heart beating crazily against my chest. Sweat drips from my brow and Iâm afraid I canât do this. I have to do this. How did I even let this happen? Everything was perfect in my controlled little world, even though somewhere deep inside I was imploding, my organs stretching until I couldnât breathe. I didnât even realize how numb I was until Brad came along. He brought it all to the surface and I just want to stuff it back down. Itâs easier not to feel; feeling leaves you vulnerable to so much pain.
He strokes my hair gently. Lovingly. âYou look like youâve been crying. Whatâs wrong, baby? Talk to me. Is Fran okay?â
âSheâs okay,â I mumble. âKyleâs with her.â
âThatâs good,â he says, sighing into my hair.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I have to do this. I couldnât bear it if he ever left me. I have to walk away before he does. Taking Bradâs hand, I lead him over to the couch.
All the color drains from his face.
The tears are threatening now and my
breath is coming fast. âBrad, I think we need some space.â His eyes go wide, but I continue. âYouâreâ¦well, youâre amazing and wonderful and witty. Youâre kind and sweet. You make me smile.â
He interrupts me, holding his hand up. âStop. Donât do this.â
âLet me talk, Brad.â I rush the words out as fast as I can. âIâve never felt so much before. For a long time, I shut off my feelings because it hurt too much. Somehow, you found your way into my heart. Butâ¦â
âGabby. I donât want space. You donât know what youâre saying. I want you. Iâ¦I care about you so much.â
I look down at my hands, the pain filling his eyes too much to bear.
Brad lifts my chin to his, not letting me break eye contact. His hands cradle my face. âHow can you think this will be better for me, Gabby? Better for us? Youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to me. I know what youâre doing. Youâre not giving me space, youâre walking away! Dammit, Gabby, Iâm not going to let you walk out of my life. You donât freaking get it! I was dead inside before I met you. You awakened something in me, and if you think Iâm letting you walk out of my life, youâre more insane than I am. If you want space, Iâll give you that, but Iâm gonna fight like hell for you. With every breath that I have, Iâll fight for you.â
I push him away and stand up, trying to put some distance between us. âBrad. Just stop. You have to listen to me.â
âNo, I donât. You listen to me now,â he demands, moving towards me. He rakes his hands through his hair and begins pacing the blue shag with heavy feet. âI get it. I really do. I know youâve pushed away feeling for so long. You want to stay numb; itâs easier that way. Thatâs how I was, too. First after my mom, and then Clara, I shut down and wouldnât let anybody in. Then, one day, I woke up and realized that they wouldnât want me to die inside. Theyâd want me to be happy. Theyâd want me to live. So I honor their memories by living, by being happy.
âItâs not thatâ¦â But heâs right, it is.
He stops pacing and grabs my hands in his. âI know you miss Clark. But he wouldnât want you to shut down, Gabby. Heâd want you to live your life, to find happiness again.â
I choke back my anger and twist my body away from him. I donât want him to see me. âNo, Brad, I donât know what he wants, because heâs dead!â
A shocked look overtakes Bradâs face. I might as well have slapped him.
Teardrops continue to crash to the floor and break apart, just like my heart. I want to run. I want to hide. Mostly, I want to scream. I want to scream at all the people whoâve ever hurt me. I want to yell at my parents, who always expected me to be something Iâm not; for not loving me, unconditionally, no matter my choices. I want to yell at my sister for not being there for me, not loving me enough. But mostly, I want to scream at Clark for leaving me that night, for not taking me with him.
Brad grabs my arm and spins me around, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. âGabby, please donât do this. I canât bear the thought of being without you. Youâre too important to me. I need you so much.â
âLet me go, Brad. You have to let me go!â
Thereâs only one other person Iâve felt this way about in my entire life. Now, the thought of not being with Brad makes me want to curl up in a little ball in a corner and just stay there. With one touch, with one word, with one breath, he can unravel me. Iâve worked so hard up to this point not to let anyone get too close to me. Tears are falling down my shirt and soaking the carpet. I hold on to Brad so I can imprint him in my memory, then I pull away. The door is inches from me now. All I have to do is walk through it. I can do this. The carpet moves beneath my feet and the door creaks open.
âDammit, Gabby. Donât fucking do this! You canât do this!â
I take one enormous breath, and without so much as a look back, walk over the threshold. The door closes, and just like that my heart slams against my chest and I know Iâll never be the same. I hear a loud crashing sound and the echo of shattered glass; it mimics my heart.
I stumble with shaky legs down the hallway and out to the street, a burst of cool air smacking me in the face. I need Fran. Frantically, I dig through the clutter in my purse and pull out my phone. Itâs ringing, and Iâm silently praying sheâs there.
Thankfully, she picks up, her usual, perky self. âHey, sweetie!â
A sob betrays me. âFran, are you at home? I really need you.â
âGabby, what is it? Why are you crying? What happened, honey?â
The tears come, but the words donât.
With a fierce resolve, Fran says, âIâm here, honey. Kyle just left. Iâm not going anywhere.â
My trembling legs barely carry me to the subway. I feel eyes all over me as tears crawl down my mascara-smeared cheeks, and Iâm silently telling them all to fuck off. Squeezing my eyes shut, I suck into myself and pray that no one touches me. Tonight, I wonât be responsible for my actions.
When Fran opens the door to and sees my face, she says nothing, just pulls me forward and holds me while I sob in her arms. We stand there for several minutes until the tears subside. She takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom, then sits me down and removes my shoes. After fluffing up her pillow, she pulls the duvet over me. Kneeling on the bed next to me, she takes my hand in hers. âTalk to me, Gabby. Tell me what happened.â
âI broke Bradâs heart, thatâs what happened. I told him I needed space. But Iâm really letting him go.â
With concern in her voice, she sighs, âOh, Gabby.â She strokes my hair. âWhy would you do that, honey? I know how much you care about him, and youâd have to be blind to not see how much he cares about you. Youâve finally opened up, Gabby. I havenât seen you like this since Clark. Is that what this is about? Because heâs not Clark, Gabby. Heâs not going anywhere.â
âI know he cares about me. Right now, anyway. But ultimately, Iâll end up disappointing him like I do everyone else in my life. I donât deserve to be happy, Fran, not while Clarkâs laying in the ground.â
Fran takes a deep breath. âGabby, listen to me. I know youâve been hurt. I know the people you loved the most in your life let you down. I know, deep down, you feel that if they loved you enough, they wouldnât have walked away from you. I know your family has made you feel that youâre not worthy of love. But let me fucking tell you something, Gabrielle Willis. If thereâs anyone on this earth who deserves to be loved, and loved hard, itâs you. Youâre my best friend, and one of the most amazing people Iâve ever met. The way you live your life, the way you appreciate everything, is admirable. Youâre such a giving person and you appreciate it all, the good and the bad. You know it has value in your life. Lifeâs lessons, you always tell me. You take those lessons and turn them into something positive. I love that about you. Iâm not the only one, Gabby. Itâs impossible not to love you.â
I bury my face in the comforter, smearing my tears all over it. âI just canât do this, Fran. I donât have the strength.â
Franâs voice becomes stern. âNow you listen to me. Bradâs not your family, Gabby. Heâs not. I know youâre scared. I know you think heâll end up being just like them, or that youâll lose him. Clark loved you, Gabby, and he wouldâve wanted you to go on with your life, to be happy.â
âI was supposed to be happy with him, Fran. I thought we were meant to be.â
âI know, sweetie. But none of us know what life has in store for us, or how much time we have. Life is a risk, and you have to take risks if youâre ever going to have a chance at happiness. I want you to be happy. Iâve seen t
he way you are with Brad; he makes you happy. Take a chance. Whatâs the worst thing that can happen? I know youâre worried about getting hurt. But isnât there also a chance that youâll end up experiencing the happiness youâve been searching for, for so long? Regardless of what happens, Gabby, Iâll be here for you. Iâll always be here for you.â
Franâs words swirl around in my head. âI just donât know if I can, Fran. I just donât know if I can get past the fear.â
We sit in silence as Fran wipes the last of the tears from my face. In the comfort of her bed, I fall into a restless sleep, haunted by soft brown eyes, pain, and overwhelming disappointment.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE DAYS DRAG on but, before I know it, another week is over. Itâs been seven whole days and I havenât heard from Brad at all. Why would I? I told him I needed space. Heâs just doing what I asked. I force myself to go back to Starbucks so I donât have to see him. I canât even share with him that I went to the information meeting and actually applied to Parsons for next year. Concentrating is so much harder than I thought. Everything in my being craves him. I miss his smell. I miss his smile. I miss his dimple. I miss that adorable wink he always gave me when I walked into his shop. I miss his touch. The way he made my skin shiver and my heart skip a beat. I miss him. I recognize this longing. Itâs all too familiar. It hurts. It physically hurts.
When I get home, Fran is waiting for me with compassion in her eyes. âHey sweetie, how are you?â
I walk over to the sofa and fall backwards with a thump. âIâm okay, Fran.â
She comes over and takes a seat next to me, resting her hand on my thigh. âI saw Brad at the coffee shop today.â
The sound of his name makes me lose my breath. Is he okay? Does he miss me? The question looming in my head makes its way out. âHow is he?â I ask in a hoarse whisper.
âHe asked about you. And Gabby? He looks miserable.â