I snorted. “I will if you will.”
I stared her down for about thirty seconds before she said, “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Pinky swear,” I said, wondering what on Earth I was going to fucking tell him. Or how. Or even logistically what was possible. But I felt swept up in the moment, and the one side of my brain had beaten the other into silence.
“Let’s go be brave,” Lucia said just as Cal knocked on the door.
Chapter 36
Gabe
“What if you lived in Big Sur?” I said under my breath for the fifteenth time. “What if you lived in Big Sur?” I kept practicing as I laid out the blanket, arranged the bouquets of peonies, lit the fireplace, placed dozens of tiny tea-light candles all along the bar, popped open a bottle of red I’d been saving for a special occasion (this one), laid out two wine glasses, and stepped back to review my handiwork.
The Bar looked slightly less dingy and a little more romantic.
Not bad.
“What if you lived in Big Sur?” I said again. I buttoned up my shirt. Re-buttoned it. Smoothed back my hair and re-tied the bun.
Calvin and Lucia had just left, and I felt oddly buoyed by their obvious spark and connection. In so many ways, they faced a similar situation. They came from two different worlds, lived in different places, but I felt like they were just going to make it work. Like you do when you think you might have stumbled upon your soulmate when you were least expecting it.
“What if you lived in—”
A sharp knock at the door interrupted my nervous rambling. My stomach twisted. My heart flip-flopped. I pulled open the door, and there she stood. Leather jacket. Ripped jeans. Combat boots.
Dammit.
“You made it,” I said on a long exhale.
Her smile was like a burst of sunshine. “Did our two lovebirds just leave?” she asked, walking in and shedding her jacket. Underneath, she wore an old Dark Side of the Moon shirt. Her hair was up in a messy bun.
I wanted to kiss her so badly.
“Just left. And they were adorable together,” I said, laughing and heading towards my iPod. I slid through a few playlists before pulling one up.
“I know,” Josie said, eyes bright. “Lucia’s never been this excited about any guy she’s ever dated. It’s pretty amazing.”
“And didn’t I call it the first night we met?” I said, tossing her a wink.
She blushed prettily. “I don’t have a memory of that,” she said, sifting her fingers through her hair. “Not a memory at all.”
I grinned, pressing play, and the sounds of Pink Floyd drifted through the speakers.
“Well done,” she said, slowly turning. “And what is… this?” she asked, voice catching at the end. “Wait… did Gladys and Gloria tell you to do this?”
I rushed to pour her a glass of wine, leading her over to the blanket.
“No,” I said. “Actually… maybe. Okay, yes.”
What if you lived in Big Sur?
I couldn’t read her expression—it was simultaneously open and guarded.
What if you lived in Big Sur?
Might as well get it over with.
“Yes, they did tell me to do this,” I said, sinking down onto the blanket. Josie lowered herself gingerly, the firelight reflected in her eyes. “Because I wanted to talk to you about something.”
She took a long sip of wine. “Okay. I kind of… well, maybe wanted to talk to you about something.”
Hope was an effervescent thing, floating up and around me like dandelion seeds in the wind.
“Good,” I grinned, attempting to keep my voice steady. “Because this is where I make a complete and utter fool of myself by asking you to stay here in Big Sur with me.”
Josie’s eyebrow arched but not necessarily in surprise. Then she took three large gulps of wine.
But she didn’t say anything. So I soldiered on.
“Josie, I want to respect what you’ve been through. With… your engagement and whatever happened there. Which you don’t need to tell me about. Now or ever. But I just want to tell you the truth. No games.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
I took a deep breath. “I really like you. For the past decade, when it comes to love and relationships, I’ve just been… floating along. Assuming it would eventually happen for me. Taking home strangers or tourists when I got lonely. Yearning for a connection I thought might never happen.” I held out my hand, laying it gently on her knee. “And then you showed up. And I know we’ve only known each other for a week, but I feel a real connection to you. From the moment we met. And I can’t explain it—I truly can’t. Except that I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop wanting to talk with you and make you laugh and walk through the woods and drink coffee in my bed together.” I paused. “You want to keep dominating me? Making me submit to you?” My voice had grown raspy. “Good. I crave it now. Crave giving up total control to you. Because you deserve to have it, Josie.”
I let out a long exhale. “How am I doing?” I asked sheepishly.
“Not too bad,” she said softly, then chugged the rest of her wine in one gulp. “You may continue.”
I laughed nervously. “Listen. You’re supposed to leave tomorrow morning, but the thought of never seeing you again makes me feel like… like… well, like the world is coming to an end. And I know how that sounds… but please tell me you feel even a little bit the same way. You do, don’t you?”
God, I was a nervous wreck. Hands shaking, sweat beading on my forehead. Josie’s eyes fluttered closed for thirty seconds. A full minute. When she opened them, they were shining.
“I don’t want to leave you, Gabriel,” she finally said.
My heart grew wings and took flight.
“Okay. That’s something to work with,” I said, gently because she still had that same skittish look in her eyes—like she had on the night of the rockslide when she’d fled to my bathroom.
“So, can I share my idea with you?”
She nodded.
“Move to Big Sur. We’ll figure something out. You could… shit, you could work here at The Bar. We could find you some place to live. And we could just try. To be together. My parents would love you. My siblings would adore you. You already know Calvin. I think we could build a community here. You could be a part of Big Sur. Like I am. But we’d do it together.”
And I’m not sure what happened. Because her face had gone from openly cautious to terrified in a manner of seconds.
“What?” I asked. “What did I say?”
Her eyes briefly lit on the ceiling, then back onto me. She was so beautiful, features flickering in the firelight. “On the way over, I was practicing what I was going to say to you.”
“Me too,” I said and was rewarded with a smile.
“I was going to say… this is hard for me, but I wanted to see if you wanted to keep dating me. Even though I live in Los Angeles. Long distance. I’m not sure I can promise much more than that.”
“Long distance? You wouldn’t move here?” I asked immediately, then tried to take the words back. But it was the truth. I wanted Josie here. With me.
“No,” she said. “No, Gabe… my entire life is in Los Angeles. A career I’ve spent nearly a decade building. A career I love. My family. Lucia. I fucking love that city. I told you before, I’m never going to leave it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t… sweetheart, I don’t think I can do long distance. I mean, if neither one of us is willing to move to be with the other person, what’s the end goal?”
“So you’re not willing to move to L.A. one day if our relationship continued? Because you could easily get a job as a bartender anywhere. I mean, it’d take you a day. Tops.” Her head was tilted in challenge.
“Of course I’m not willing to move. The Bar is my life. I am Big Sur. My family, we have a legacy here that I want to maintain. I know everyone… I want to live here forever…” I trailed off, wondering how this conversation had gotten
out of hand. There were candles! And a fucking fire in the fireplace!
“Wait,” I continued, threading my fingers through Josie’s. “I feel like this isn’t going how I expected.”
“And how was that?” she asked, removing her fingers.
“I thought… I thought you would say yes. I hoped. I mean, I know it’s complicated, but—”
“—what?” She interjected.
“I thought—” Be honest. “For a connection like we have, I thought it’d be easy. The sacrifice. For love, for true love, wouldn’t a person give up anything? Even if it was hard? Especially if it was hard?”
Wasn’t that what love was all about?
“We’ve only known each other a week, Gabe,” Josie said. “I don’t think we can be in love.” My heart lurched as a look of deep disappointment flashed across her face. But what was she disappointed about?
“It’s something, Josie. There is something between us I cannot categorize. It doesn’t fit neatly into any box. And it feels like if you leave tomorrow morning, we’re jeopardizing something that could be real, earth-shattering, mind-blowing love.”
She stilled. “You really think that?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I know how much I’m asking you to give up. I do.”
“Do you, though? In order for us to have a relationship, according to you, I’d need to give up my job. My apartment. My friends and my family.”
The words coming from her mouth made me sound like a selfish asshole. I started to argue but stopped.
Because it was what I was asking her.
“Gabriel,” she said, drawing me back. Tears were silently streaming down her face. Immediately, I tried to reach for her, but she pulled away, shaking her head. “Can I tell you about Clarke?”
Chapter 37
Josie
Being brave fucking sucked.
On the long, winding drive down Highway 1 to The Bar, the singular beauty of Big Sur mocked me. The full moon, casting a pale glow on the roaring ocean. The night sounds of the forest. The peaceful simplicity. My headlights glancing along the dramatic cliffs.
So I’d practiced the whole way there, fortifying my heart for the inevitable.
What if we dated long distance?
Even as I wondered if I was being completely stupid. Who wouldn’t want to give up their life to move to this idyllic paradise and let a big, sexy Viking take care of them?
But I’d done that before. And the worst had happened.
So here I was, surrounded by candlelight and bouquets of peonies, staring into Gabe’s magnificently handsome face and telling him no.
More than that. I was telling him my truth.
“Can I tell you about Clarke?” I asked. His body went absolutely still like he was worried sudden movements would send me running.
“Yes. Absolutely,” he said quietly.
“I don’t… except for Lucia, who was there, I never talk about this. So it’s not… I mean, it might not be the best telling.” I swallowed around a lump in my throat as hard and sharp as a diamond.
“Okay,” he said quietly. “You can just tell me what you want. No pressure.”
I nodded and let the floodgate of memories open.
“Do you know what gaslighting is?”
Gabe shook his head.
“It’s a type of emotional manipulation. A type of… abuse. Your partner or friend or loved one makes you feel like you don’t have a grasp on your own reality.”
Are you sure you should wear that? Don’t you think that opportunity is wrong for you? I’m not sure Lucia is as good a friend as you think.
“It’s subtle, so people don’t realize it’s happening to them, but it just wears you down until you believe everything they’ve implied about you. By the time… by the time Clarke asked me to marry him, I no longer needed him to subtly poke at my self-esteem. Or suggest my dreams were worthless. Because I was already doing that to myself.”
A flurry of emotions were parading across Gabe’s face, but he was still as a deer in a meadow. “And if you confront them, they use these… tricks. Verbal tricks. Persuasion… I can’t, it’s hard for me to really remember because Clarke was so fucking good at it, but if I ever pushed back on something he said or suggested that he was the problem, not me, we’d have a conversation, and by the end of it, I’d be the one apologizing and taking the blame.”
I’m only this way, Josie, because you make me.
“Everything with Clarke moved too fast. Before Clarke, I wasn’t really looking for a traditional relationship. I was young and hard-working and just wanted to fuck hot guys and build my career. Because I was the youngest daughter in a family of four sons, I was babied and doted on.” I smiled a little. “Which pissed me off because my brothers kicked ass, and I wanted to as well. So I was like doing it, you know? On top of my shit.”
“You lived alone?” he asked.
“I did after a long time of living five girls to a one-bedroom,” I said dryly. “I was so fucking proud of myself. But the first time I ever brought Clarke home to my apartment, an apartment I paid for at the time by working two jobs, he took a look around and said ‘is this it?’”
My stomach clenched at the memory. “I know that’s not a good example of it,” I said hurriedly. “Because now, saying it, it feels so… small. But the weeks leading up to me showing him my apartment, he’d already been subtly undermining me. Trying to get me to see, eventually, that even though we’d barely been dating for three months, we should move in together. Out of my place and into his.” I grimaced. “Does that make sense?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “And you don’t have to give me examples or prove it. I believe you.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling the tears streak down my face. “I hate thinking about it, so it’s hard for me to say it all out loud…” I trailed off. “Also, and you can ask Lucia about this, but I was like a Stepford Wife-zombie by the time he proposed. I know that my friends and family had their doubts, or at least their concerns, but every time someone mentioned it to me, it was… it was like being ten feet underwater. I couldn’t hear it. Plus, by then, every problem that my friends mentioned, he already had me blaming myself for. When he proposed to me, I thought it was too soon. Too quick. Not right. There was a part of me screaming about it.”
“What did he say?” Gabe asked. He’d laid his palm on my knee, a reassuring weight.
“Questioned my love for him, of course,” I said bitterly. “Told me my feelings were wrong, a tried and true gaslighting tactic. Because it makes you question your sanity. Your partner becomes the only person who really knows how you should feel and react. I told him I was afraid, and he’d said, ‘people who are truly in love aren’t afraid. So if my love makes you afraid, something is wrong with you.’”
Gabe’s jaw clenched. “It’s hard to have a relationship when you don’t feel like you can share your honest feelings.”
I nodded. “And it made me doubt every single… thought. Hunch. Feeling. Sixth sense. Down was up, and up was down. And the worst part was the way that I loved him. It was like a… a sickness. Everything with Clarke had to be rollercoaster-style intense. All the time. But it was just lies and manipulation. It’s why I told you I don’t want… could never do a relationship like that again.”
There was a long silence. “What happened to your engagement?” Gabe asked. “And you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I took a deep, steadying breath. “We got engaged, rapid-fire. I planned a wedding in two months. Everyone was stunned, but like I said, I didn’t believe them. And then, on the day of the wedding…”
He said he’s not coming.
“Lucia and my mom and I had been getting ready for hours. Hair, makeup, the whole deal. Now, you couldn’t catch me in a fucking white dress, but that’s what Clarke wanted. A princess. So I was shoved into this white wedding dress about thirty minutes before the procession was supposed to begin. We wanted—he wanted—our first time seeing ea
ch other to be down the aisle, so the fact that he was missing went unnoticed the entire morning. He wasn’t close with my family, didn’t really have real friends, so I think he’d told the minister he’d be showing up right on the dot?”
“So no one had reason to worry,” Gabe filled in. “They spent the entire morning thinking his behavior was normal.”
Nausea invaded my belly. “And we… I was, well, with my mom. And now I remember how concerned she was. How worried, but she didn’t let it come up on my wedding day. She just sat with me, held my hand, told me memories from when I was a little girl. We laughed and drank champagne, and the sun was shining everywhere…”
My throat hitched. And the tears continued to fall. “Lucia knocked on the door, and until the day I die, I will never forget the look on her face. She was stricken. Pale as a ghost and trembling everywhere. Clarke had left her a fucking voicemail on her phone and just said he wasn’t coming. No explanation. No… no sense that what he was doing was a total and complete violation. He just didn’t show. And I…”
Gabe reached forward, holding my hand, eyes locked on mine.
“I collapsed. I couldn’t believe it for the longest time, even as Lucia held me in my dress. I sobbed for hours, probably. People kept coming in and whispering around me. At some point, my mother must have told everyone, which had to have been terrible for her. But I have no recollection of that. No memories at all except crying in Lucia’s arms. And thinking.” I laughed bitterly, and Gabe reached forward to catch a tear with his thumb.
“I kept thinking there was some huge mistake. A tear in the universe. A massively inappropriate practical joke. That he’d mixed up the date or… or went to the wrong address. I mean, we had a fucking rehearsal dinner two nights before where he’d given a speech about our life together. And it was smarmy and manipulative, but at the time, I didn’t notice. Or didn’t care. By then, I was addicted to the intensity and felt so goddamn lucky he had chosen me. Probably because he liked to remind me of that ten times a day. Every time I fucked up, by asking too many questions or doing anything that smacked of independence, he’d remind me that he could have had anyone in the world. But he’d chosen me.”
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