Gabe kept wiping my tears away, and I should have stopped him but didn’t have the strength. Plus, it felt good.
“I don’t remember a lot except Lucia getting me home and staying with me for days. We were supposed to go to Bermuda for a week, so I didn’t have work, but Lucia did, and she called and canceled every job she had. And when I couldn’t get out of bed the next week, she called all of my jobs and told them I’d contracted some weird tapeworm in the islands.” I laughed at the memory. “It was the first day I actually felt like a human being, listening to Lucia try to explain in vivid detail the size, shape, and specifics of my tropical tapeworm.”
Gabe grinned, smoothing my hair from my face. “She was also the one who moved all of my stuff out of Clarke’s apartment. Went one day when he was at work and grabbed everything for me. She let me stay with her for as long as I needed.”
“She’s a hell of a friend,” he said.
“The best. It’s funny, we talked about this just the other day, and she feels guilty about Clarke. That if she just could have convinced me he was a psychopath, none of this would have ever happened.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Not at all. In some ways now… I’m grateful. I was so deep in it, so deep in his mind games, I sometimes wonder if I would have ever gotten out if he had showed up that day and we had gotten married.” I shuddered. “And it’s taken two years of healing and working on myself to be able to say that.”
Gabe had moved closer, and I hadn’t realized he’d wrapped his huge, Viking arms around me, holding me against his chest. Not smothering, or forcing, but folding against me just the way I needed.
“Did you ever see him again? Hear from him? Get an explanation?” He asked.
I shook my head. “No. I have never seen or heard from him. He’s never returned my calls or texts; I’ve never even bumped into him on the street. And the only explanation is that he’s a total psychopath.”
“But you never got closure,” Gabe pressed, arms tightening with tension.
I pulled back, staring into his kind eyes. “This experience has taught me that you don’t always get that in real life. You’re just left wondering, questioning yourself, hearing his…” I coughed, tripping on the words. “Hearing his voice in your thoughts.”
Pain darkened his face. With the exception of Lucia, this wasn’t something I ever mentioned out loud.
“You still hear him?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Not all of the time, less than before. But… he’s there.”
Gabe let out a long exhale, teeth set, jaw ticking. “I’m so sorry, Josie.”
I shook my head, pressed on. “So I’m not trying to say you’re naive or you shouldn’t want this… this soulful, once-in-a-lifetime love, but it’s why that thought doesn’t appeal to me any longer. Do you understand now?”
The tension that rippled through his muscles was subtle but there. Gabe pulled back, brushed the hair from my cheek. “You don’t think it’s real? What my parents have? Or my siblings?”
“I think what they have is very real. And I think they’re lucky to have found a great love that isn’t also toxic. And I’m not saying you won’t find that. I just… Gabe, you told me that you wanted to love someone so badly it hurt.”
“But not like Clarke,” he said, shaking his head. “Not like… sweetheart, that’s not what I meant.”
“I had that,” I said, forging on. “And it destroyed me. The person you see in front of you is… I’m not the same person I was before Clarke. There were days where I even questioned the very core of my being. Days where he had me convinced I didn’t like art. Or dancing. Or my family. Or even being a makeup artist. He thought my job was trashy,” I said, bitterness choking my throat. “And at the time of our wedding, I was starting to look into other careers.”
Gabe’s palm was stroking across my back. “I like this Josie though. I still see you. I don’t see the things that Clarke did.” His palm moved to my chest, spreading across my heart. “The moment I met you, I felt like I knew you. Not just because I feel this connection to you but because you put it out there. Everything about you screams authentic.”
I smiled grimly. “It hasn’t been easy. Finding her again. She was lost for a long time,” I said.
And that’s when the tears really broke, transforming into shuddering sobs that wracked my body. Gabe curled me into his chest, holding me tight, nothing but soothing words. Big hands stroking my hair. No judgment. No qualifying. Just there.
After a long time, I finally pulled back. The reality of our conversation, of what we were deciding, was like a punch to the gut. It must have hit Gabe at the same time because his features twisted with pain.
“Tell me what you want to do,” he said.
I steadied my voice. “Long distance. Phone calls. Coming to visit, that kind of thing. And I don’t have any idea after that. We’d just be… living in the present, probably without a future together. But after Clarke, it’s… well, it’s what I can offer.”
Gabe dropped his head in his hands.
“You don’t want that,” I said, stating a fact.
“We’re back at the same crossroads, gorgeous,” he said, voice muffled. When he looked up, his gaze was so vulnerable it fucking hurt. “Because I want you here. With me. Now. I don’t want to explore this over the phone. I don’t want to…” A long pause as he looked into the fire. “Josie, I don’t want to fall in love with you and then have no future together. If we date, even casually, it’s going to happen. It’s already happening for me.”
His ears were pink, cheeks flushed. I wanted to crumple against him again, kiss away the pain of this shitty situation.
“What is?” I asked softly because I was a goddamn masochist.
“I’m falling for you.”
The tears were back now, half-joy, half-heartache, because I’d known it too. The only way I’d ever consider even a casual relationship with someone right now, after Clarke, was if I was stupid in love.
“Then move to L.A.”
Gabe shook his head. No.
“This was what Clarke wanted,” I reminded him. “Wanted me isolated and depending on him. No friends. No family. He only offered his love to me by making me sacrifice everything. It was conditional. I was lucky. I got out. I saved myself and have spent the past two years healing.” My voice broke.
“I know,” he said, trying to reach for my hand again.
“You don’t,” I said, pushing back to the very edge of the blanket. “And I just asked you to do the very same thing—to give up your job, your family, your hometown. And you wouldn’t do it.”
I stood, grabbing my things. I needed to leave now before I never left.
“Gabe,” I prodded. “You wouldn’t do that. Would you?”
Chapter 38
Gabe
I wanted to find Clarke and beat him to within an inch of his life.
Actually, no.
I wanted to build a time machine and travel back two years, to right before Josie met him. Then beat him to within an inch of his life.
And then take Josie on that first date instead of Clarke.
“Gabe?” Josie said again. Pushing me to answer a question that should be easy.
Yes. Let’s try and date long distance. And maybe, if things go well, I’ll consider moving down to Los Angeles.
That was the answer.
But I couldn’t make myself say the words. And didn’t that make me the world’s biggest hypocrite?
“You won’t, will you? Move to Los Angeles?” Resignation was written all over her face.
I swallowed roughly, hating myself. “I don’t think so. No. I’d hate it there.”
“And I’d hate it here,” she said softly.
“But every day could be like this,” I said, leaning forward, indicating the candles and light around me. “I wasn’t lying, Josie, when I said my entire goal in life was to be someone’s husband. To make them happy. Josie, I’d worship you every
fucking second of the day. Any way you wanted. Flowers and candles and foot massages and—Fuck… you want me on my knees every night, sweetheart?”
Her pupils darkened, and I felt my cock harden at the thought. At the memory of kneeling before Josie like she was a goddamn queen.
“I’d live on my knees for you.” I cupped her face in my hands, swiping away a tear that was sliding down her cheek. “Please, Josie, I want to give you a beautiful life here in Big Sur.”
“It’s too much,” she said, half-sobbing. “It’s… you’re asking too much of me. Right now. All I can offer you is a long-distance relationship that has nowhere to go. But there’s value in that too, Gabe. We wouldn’t be together forever, but we’d be together for a little bit.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t have you for just a little bit. I need you.”
Josie bit her lip, nodding her head like I’d just affirmed something for her. “Okay, then.” She stood, and I thought my heart would fall right out of my chest.
I stood with her, but she was already shrugging back on her jacket.
“Please, don’t go,” I said. I was openly begging now. “Please. Josefine.”
She walked up to me, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a small, sweet kiss against my lips. I tried to hold on, but she backed away just as quickly.
“Thank you for being honest with me. Thank you for listening to my story and… and really seeing me. I know this isn’t what you wanted, but I feel forever changed. By you. By this place.” Her smile was so sad I felt the world tremble. “I’ll never forget you, Gabriel Shaw.”
“Josie,” I pleaded, and later I’d wish I’d said something, anything, other than just say her name over and over again like some lovesick fool. That I would have said yes to what she was offering me instead of forcing what I wanted on her.
But I didn’t. Instead, I watched as Josie walked out of The Bar, out of Big Sur, out of my life.
Leaving me with flickering candles and wilting flowers and a fire that burned too hot and too bright.
Chapter 39
Josie
“I’m either incredibly stupid. Or I just protected myself from yet another horrific heartbreak,” I told Lucia as we drove at ninety miles an hour back to Los Angeles.
We’d traded driving duties several times during the six-hour trip because one of us kept spontaneously bursting into tears, and that was not a good frame of mind for driving.
“I’m with you,” Lucia said feebly, curled up against the passenger side door. I’d never seen her so low, her usually frustratingly flawless complexion looking pallid. We were flying through the Central Valley, everything around us flat and impassive.
I kept repeating to myself, over and over again, that I’d done the right thing.
“You think I did the right thing, right?” I asked Lucia for the fiftieth time.
She’d left Calvin the same way I’d left Gabe, and both of us couldn’t have been more miserable.
“I mean… ultimately, yes,” she said. “I do. I just wish… I just wish Gabe had been more open to what you were proposing. Why double-down and force you to make a choice? It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch,” I said grimly. A sweet, kind, funny Viking that would have done anything to make you happy. But I’d dated Clarke. And even as my sweet Viking swore up and down that what he was asking wasn’t the same kind of manipulation, I couldn’t be sure. “And because Clarke has to ruin things for me even two years later.”
“Don’t say that,” Lu said softly. “This was your decision. You listened to your instincts, and your instincts said it was too rushed and too soon.”
“Which they should have said when Clarke asked me to move in with him. Marry him.”
“And that wasn’t your fault. He was a fucking psychopath. But you’re listening to yourself again, Josie. I know this is a terrible time to say this, but as your best friend, that makes me happy.” She reached forward, grasping my arm. “You’re trusting you again.”
I sighed. “That’s true. That was my goal after all of this. To find… to find me,” I said, voice cracking at the end. I swallowed down the tears.
“What did it feel like to tell Gabe about Clarke?” Lucia asked.
I searched my feelings, and with the exception of nausea—which always happened when I thought of my wedding day—I felt oddly… liberated.
“It felt good, actually,” I finally said. “It felt good to have someone really listen. Like a great unburdening.” The volume of Clarke’s voice ebbed and flowed, but the story of what happened to me felt heavy as shackles, weighting me down.
“I feel lighter.” I looked at Lucia. “That’s progress, right?”
Lucia nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “That’s real progress, chica.”
“I’m fascinated with Gabe,” I continued. “Attracted to him. Loved spending time with him and, if things were different, would have considered a very slow relationship with him.”
“But they’re not,” Lu said.
“They’re not,” I repeated. “And I can’t help but feel my only other option is to be horribly heartbroken a month from now.”
“So you did the right thing,” Lu said. “Right?”
“Right,” I said firmly, driving on through the night.
A few hours later, the skyline of Los Angeles reared up in greeting, the two of us giving little whoops as we entered the Valley. We rolled down the windows and breathed in the smell of the city: smog and people and smoke and yearning. I took us right to our favorite taco truck.
“Big Sur doesn’t have carnitas tacos on every street corner,” I pointed out.
“True,” Lu said. “Or all-night dance clubs.”
“Or Saturday street fairs.”
“Or red carpet events.”
“Or everyone that means the most to me,” I said firmly.
She nodded. Across the parking lot, a cute guy flashed me a grin. Cute cute. Tattoos and scruff and a sinful smile.
And suddenly my slightly joyful mood came crashing horribly down around me, everything up in fucking flames.
Because I was going to have to go back to picking up strangers. Dating guys like that.
Guys who weren’t Gabe.
“Oh my God,” I said, suddenly, sinking against the car, head in my hands.
Lu knew, stroking my hair as large, wracking sobs worked through me.
“I know, chica. I know,” she said and let me cry in the middle of the street on a hot Los Angeles night.
Chapter 40
Gabe
One month later
Dimly, I heard the sound of the front door open and footsteps approach. I was lying in front of my new home—the fireplace—and engaging in my new favorite activity: replaying all the stupid things I’d said to Josie the night she left.
The footsteps got closer, but I wasn’t worried. It was probably Calvin, who’d been coming by most nights to drown his sorrows about Lucia. He and I would switch off on lying down based on whose turn it was to pour the drinks.
“Cal?” I said, opening one eye and wincing at the light.
I’d had a lot to drink last night. There was a sniffling sound then another. I sat up, body protesting with the movement, and came face-to-face with Isabelle.
“Iz?” Tears streaked down her face as she sank to the floor next to me, Lola pressed against her chest. “What happened?”
Isabelle hiccuped, flashing me a watery smile. “I just need my big brother for a minute. Is that okay?”
And then she collapsed against my chest, baby and all, and cried for a long time. I held her and Lola, told her everything would be fine—a sure lie, since I wasn’t sure what had happened or if it could even be fixed.
“I’m going to go to the bathroom for a minute,” she finally said, wiping away tears with the sleeve of her sweater. “And then we can talk, okay? Can you watch the baby?”
I nodded as Isabelle walked away. She loo
ked pale and deeply unhappy. If I’d taken the time to look in a mirror recently, I’d probably see my own pallid expression reflected back to me.
Lola seemed unperturbed, crawling on the floor and trying to eat something that looked suspiciously like a cigarette. I snatched her up quickly before I needed to pump her stomach.
The Bar was not baby-proof.
“What’s going on with your mom, huh?” I asked Lola, her wide, dark eyes peering at me curiously. I stroked her cheek, and she grinned at me, drool running down her lip.
The unconditional love I felt for my niece put a small dent in the month of heartbreak. We bounced around the room a bit, me pointing out random objects and Lola either laughing or crying at them. We skipped the penis paintings, of course, but she was inordinately drawn to the glasses and the sharpest of my knives.
“Gonna be a little killer, huh?” I asked, grabbing the butcher knife she kept trying to touch and putting it out of reach. I lifted her high in the air, and she squealed with delight.
“You’re great with her,” Isabelle said, sneaking up behind us. She blew her daughter a kiss before standing behind the bar and grabbing a towel.
“Easy when you’re in love,” I said, sitting on a bar stool with Lola in my lap. A look passed over Isabelle’s face.
“You want to talk about it?”
A long exhale. “I do. And, actually, I want to go on a fucking hike.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Well, then, let’s do it. I’ll grab the carrier.”
I dug through the closet until I found it, strapping it to my chest as Isabelle placed a squirming Lola inside.
“When was the last time you went hiking?” she asked softly as her fingers tightened the straps.
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