Regretting Gabriel

by Brooks, Anna

  But when he invited me alone over to his house to go over some riffs and jam a little bit, it was something I never even dreamed of. I saw that picture, the one I found in the drawer, I saw that on his desk in the music room. You were young then; in the photo, you were even younger, but you were so pretty. He clasped my shoulder, and said, “That’s my Cadence. Most beautiful girl in the world. She can play any instrument you put in front of her. She’ll eventually be better than me, better than you, even. Every kid gets something from their parents, there’s no way around it, and I’m just glad she got that part of me.”

  And it hit me then, something I’d never thought about—that I was just like my dad. I had a short temper, and I got in fights at school. I even looked like him. But I didn’t want to be like him. I never wanted to be like him, and I was so afraid that I’d end up following his footsteps.

  I promised myself right then and there, in your house, looking at that picture, that I’d never let a woman love me so much that she’d let me beat her. That she’d accept me even if I hurt her. That she’d love a monster. I never even let myself think of the possibility of a future with any woman because I was scared shitless that I’d end up like him and I’d hurt her.

  But then you came along… God, you shattered whatever ideals I had shielding myself from love. It was almost instant, but I knew for sure that you were different when you cuddled up to me in your sleep, and I saw your face pinch in pain.

  It killed me that you were hurting, and I wanted to do everything I could to take it away. I hated seeing you hurt. I fucking hated it. I wanted to take that pain away. The sheer thought of me doing anything to make you cry, to cause you any pain, makes me fucking sick. So I waged war with myself, knowing that I wanted so much to take your pain away, that I’d rather die than do something to add to it; I convinced myself that I could do it.

  And I tried.

  I tried so damn hard.

  But then I pushed you.

  You crashed into that table, and I saw my mom lying on the kitchen floor. I saw my entire fucking childhood flash before my eyes, and I knew I had to let you go. I have to let you go, Cady.

  I love you too much to risk hurting you again. Not like that. Never like that. I know I hurt you with that chick on New Year’s, and I meant to. I wanted you to hate me. I was trying to make it easier for you to let me go, but I hate myself for that, too. I knew the second it happened, and baby, that was all it was, a fucking second, I swear. But I knew in that second that I couldn’t do it. And when you ran away, I went after you because I… I don’t know. I needed to make sure you were safe. I had to see that you were okay. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to say to you when I got to your apartment, but I had to see you. I needed to apologize. And I never got to do that, so I’m doing it now.

  I’m sorry, Cadence. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, and it fucking kills me that I did. I’ll live with that forever, and no matter what, I’ll always love you.

  X—Gabriel

  P.S. You did not kill your father. Let that shit go, Cadence. The two of you were involved in a car accident that took his life. It wasn’t your fault. And he’d be pissed to know you’ve carried that burden around all these years. You know I’m right. Let it go, baby.

  I scream at the top of my lungs and flail my arms in agitation because I can’t believe him. I mean… seriously? That’s what this is all about? That’s why he broke up with me. Because I wouldn’t let him go when he was trying to leave? Because after he repeatedly told me to let him go, and I didn’t, he pulled his arm away and I accidentally fell. He didn’t push me, and he definitely didn’t hurt me. I tripped over my own two feet and fell into my kitchen table. My fault. So because I wouldn’t let him go, he’s letting me go.

  Fuck that.

  Rosie was right.

  I waited forever for him. I’m not letting him just walk away.

  I grab my coat and put it on as I’m walking out of my apartment. I stomp down the hallway, then down the stairs, then down the street to Kelly’s. When I push the door open, I do it with more strength than I planned because it crashes into the wall, and everyone looks over at me. “Sorry.” I wince and then walk up to the bar, and thankfully, Meara is there. I slap my fist on the bar, Gabriel’s note crumpled inside my fingers. “What do I do?”

  “What?”

  “What do I do?” I lean over and hold my hand up, indicating the letter. “How do I make him realize he’s being a stubborn asshole?”

  Her lips tilt up on either side, she rubs her hands together, and I see the plotting she’s already doing. “I have an idea.”

  Gabriel

  Three months later

  “Hey, Gabe.”

  I ignore the woman’s voice and continue staring at my shoes as they bounce on the carpeted floor. We’re about to go on stage for the first show on this tour, the first one since I got out of jail, the first one with all of us together, with Lee, in years.

  I’m antsy. I can’t settle. Being free of bars should make it so I can breathe again, but it still feels as if I’m suffocating and can’t get a full breath in. I haven’t been able to since I got out last month, and I know the only thing that would be able to calm my ass is Cady, seeing her, holding her, but specifically, being inside her.

  I went all these months without pussy, and even though I need to fuck, I don’t want anyone but her. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stick my dick in something that isn’t attached to Cady, and frankly, I don’t want to. Like all things luxury, once you’ve had the best, you don’t go back to knock-offs, and Cady is the definition of luxury. Anyone else is cheap and absolutely nothing close to who I want.

  I definitely don’t want the woman who just ran her finger down my arm, and I honestly don’t know how I did this before. “Gabe.” She purrs my name again.

  “What?” I don’t even look at her.

  “Thought you might need a little—”

  “I don’t need anything from you but for you to get outta my space.”

  She scoffs and then stomps away, and I squeeze my eyes tight, trying to force myself to fucking focus. We’ve kicked ass in rehearsals, which isn’t surprising. And with Lee’s help working on chords so all I had to do was play them to add to the track, we released a single just in time for us to hit the road.

  I want to be excited, and I am. I love performing. But I can't get into it no matter how much I try because I can't stop fucking thinking.

  Just like when I was in jail, when I wasn’t getting anger management therapy, all I did was think. I thought mostly about Cady and the band, but also a lot about my dad. His visit didn't change much. Just because I understand him more doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive him. I’m going to try to work towards not hating him, but that’s the best I can do.

  I spent the three and a half months of my life in a cell, and I never felt as claustrophobic as I do right now.

  “Everyone out,” Mike demands, and I’m thankful for the reprieve.

  All the guys have been awesome and putting in the extra work for me and never once made me feel like shit about it. The four of us sat down the day after I was released and hashed everything out. I told them about Cady and who her dad is to which they weren’t as shocked as I thought they’d be.

  Turns out, while I was in, her secret got out. She and Meara got close, and with her help, she told them all and took the blame for lying to me being the reason we broke up. She didn’t say anything about what happened in her kitchen, and I couldn’t let her do that, so I told them.

  And they, like my sister and Cady, told me it was an accident and tried to assure me that I’d never hurt her intentionally. I wouldn’t. But I did unintentionally, so it doesn’t really matter.

  It was hard not going to her being so close, but I knew if I saw her, I wouldn’t be able to keep my distance. She hasn’t tried to contact me since the letter she wrote me, and she never responded to the one I sent. And Meara says she’s not getting in the midd
le of us, so she refuses to talk about her at all, even when I asked a simple question like how is she doing.

  I understand why, but I hate not knowing that she’s okay.

  “Time to hit it.” Jamie’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and I take a big breath before I stand. The four of us walk out of the dressing room and huddle in a circle. We look around at each other, and a million different things are said without a word.

  The energy increases, and my ears bleed at the roars echoing around me. “Unleash the fury, boys.” Mike initiates the pre-show ritual, and we all look at Liam and wait for him to finish. He smiles, and yells, “Give ’em hell, give ’em fire.” Fuck, it’s good to have him back.

  The rest of the crew reaches between us so we’re all meeting in the middle of our huddle. Everyone raises their hands at the same time. “Let’s goooooooo!” After we split up, I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet, getting pumped and forcing myself to focus. I roll my neck and shake out my hands, letting the energy from around me penetrate and soak into my veins.

  And it’s working.

  Fucking finally.

  “Ready?” Liam asks, excitement that he’s back on the road with us evident in his voice.

  “Let’s do this.” I clasp his shoulder, and we walk toward the stage. Jimmy stands at the curtain, and as we walk out, he hits each of us on the back with an open palm three times before we rush onto the stage.

  Normally, our fans are awesome. They’re loud and loyal and let us know with their cheers. But tonight is different. There’s an intensity to them that radiates throughout the arena. I feed off that; I use it while I put my strap over my neck and stand in place as I shake my arms out, feeling more and more like myself.

  This is what I need. This drive. The energy.

  “Are you ready to be ruined?” The lights suddenly flash on, and the crowd gets louder. Mike screams over them, and they go wild. “I can’t hear you. I said… are you ready to be ruined?”

  I laugh at how crazy Mike’s ass is on stage and look over my shoulder when the fans start chanting. “Liam. Liam. Liam.” Our social media blew up when it was announced that Lee was back, and as soon as we announced the tour dates, we sold out of almost all of the shows hours later.

  He stands and salutes the crowd, then taps his sticks together, and for the first time in almost five years, we rock out. I feel like a teenager again. The newness of it all comes back to me, and I remember why I love it so much. It reminds me that this isn’t guaranteed. I always appreciated it, but I do even more so now.

  Fuck, I missed performing.

  I get lost in the music, the vibes, the energy. Damn, I needed this. Sweat drips down my back, and my hair becomes damp. The shirt I’m wearing sticks to me, but I don’t feel it. I do, however, feel the vibrations all the way down to my empty soul.

  Time absolutely flies, and I can’t believe how on point we are for it being our first time back after months and in Lee’s case, years. But then again, it’s why we’ve won awards and have platinum albums; we’re the shit.

  We finish our last song, and I bend down to grab a bottle of water and chug half of it. I’m preparing to walk off stage just so we can stand there and come back out for an encore. Worst part of the show for me because I don’t like being taken out of the zone. I hate encores. I think they’re the dumbest thing since we come back out every time. It’s not like it’s a surprise, so what’s the point?

  But whatever, it is what it is.

  “Okay, guys. I need everyone to quiet down for a second.”

  “Have my babies, Mike!” a female fan from the front row screams, and Mike chuckles. “It’s not about me right now, but come see me after the show.” He winks down at her. “For real, I have something important to say, and I need you all to be chill.”

  I have no clue what he’s doing. This wasn’t on the agenda for the night. I look across the stage at Jamie, and he shrugs, but he’s smiling.

  “The past year has been… rough. As a band, we’ve been through a lot both professionally and personally. And tonight, fuck, you guys… tonight with Lee back and you all welcoming us like you did was better than we ever could have imagined.” They all scream again, and Mike nods as they quiet down. “But I have someone else I need you all to welcome tonight. Someone who means the world to our brother, Gabe.”

  My head snaps up, and my hands fall to my sides. “What the fuck?”

  “Now I’m sure you’re all aware that our friend up here did some time in the slammer, recently, right?” He chuckles, and I roll my eyes.

  They roar with laughter and cheer simultaneously, but I’m not finding any of this the least bit funny. I yank my earpiece out and cover the mic. “What are you doing?” I yell, but Mike ignores me.

  “Well, he did that because he was protecting his girlfriend.” A collective sigh from the women makes me run a hand through my hair nervously. “But what you all don’t know is Gabe’s girlfriend is someone you actually might know. Do you all remember a little band called Masking Maverick?” He pulls the mic away from his mouth as he laughs. Jesus Christ. What the fuck is going on? “I thought you might. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Gabe’s girl, and the daughter of the rock-n-roll legend and front man for Masking Maverick, Cadence Holiday!”

  My eyes can’t focus on anything other than her. It’s been months, but it fucking feels like forever. I didn’t forget how gorgeous she was, but seeing her again makes me think I did because she’s even more beautiful than my memory allowed me to visualize. She’s walking onstage from the right wing with a guitar strapped around her neck. She waves shyly to the crowd, and as she passes Jamie, he hugs her and says something in her ear. Her lips press together, and she nods, then continues toward center stage. She reaches Mike, who has somehow produced a stool for her and is currently lowering the mic stand. He says something to her that has her smiling. God, she’s perfect.

  “Hey, everyone.” Her voice doesn’t sound nervous. If anything, she’s confident. Sure. Her shy smile lights up the whole fucking arena, and I unhook the strap from my guitar and drop the fucker on the stage. It clatters, but thankfully, our sound guys have muted me already. Jesus. What the hell is she doing here? I take a step toward her, and she must see because she whips her head over, and when her eyes connect with mine, they freeze me on the spot.

  “What are you doing?” I mouth.

  She gives her shoulders a little shrug, then turns back to the crowd. “Thank you guys for the warm welcome. So, as I’m sure you know, growing up like I did around musicians, knowing nothing other than the rock-n-roll lifestyle…” She bites her lip when they cheer again and waits for them to calm down. “I know that music is more than entertainment. My father used to say to me, Music isn’t meant to be listened to, Cady. It’s meant to be consumed. Every moment of every day in every way. In life and death and with every breath.” Her hand rests on the top of the mic, and her head drops when the crowd starts chanting her father’s name. “Thank you. He’d be so happy right now.”

  She turns her head to me again. “It’s the only way I can get you to listen to me.” And as soon as her fingers glide over the strings, I literally fall to my knees, ass to my heels, overwhelmed and completely taken by surprise. She’s going to sing.

  Our song.

  Her lids close, and when they do, a single tear falls down her cheek as she belts out the first line of the song I sang for her all those months ago. Both of my hands scrub down my face, and a lump forms in my throat. I can’t take my eyes off her, and the fact that she’s nailing every single note is amazing, just like her. She’s a natural, and I’m oddly proud of her right now. I’m humbled. She gets to the chorus, and I can’t just sit here. I know there are tens of thousands of people watching us right now, but it’s like Cady and I are the only ones in the room.

  She brings me back to that day, the night I sang to her. The first night we made love. And then to the first time I saw her. The moment I fell in love with her
. The split second that ruined us… ruined me. The hurt, the pain, the sadness that’s been so heavy on my heart. The bliss of being in the same room as her. The ecstasy of simply touching her skin. The straight up happy that I never knew I was missing of calling her mine.

  Her lips quiver, and I push up to my feet, and vaguely, in the back of my mind, I can hear cheering. She blinks and tears fall down both cheeks now. I get to her in three strides and take her face in my hands and slant my mouth against hers.

  It’s like fireworks have exploded inside me. I reach down and grab the neck of her guitar and then pull the thing off over her head, reluctantly separating our mouths. Someone comes over and takes it from me, and as soon as both hands are free, I lift her off the stool where she wraps her legs around my waist, and I carry her off the stage. She has her face buried in my neck, and despite the echo of the amphitheater, I hear her quietly sobbing.

  As soon as we get backstage, I look up and find our new security guy. He doesn’t need me to even say anything because he simply nods. “Follow me.”

  Cady’s body shudders when she pulls in a ragged breath.

  “Shh.” I kiss the top of her head and suck in the smell of her. “I got you, sugar.”

  That makes her cry harder.

  We reach a door, and he pushes it open, then glances around before he allows me to pass. I follow until we reach the bus and nod when he opens the door. “Nobody gets in here.”

  He lifts his chin in acknowledgment, and I carry her up the couple of steps until we’re inside. I fall on to the couch, and before my ass hits the cushion, I have my hands on her face, tilting it back so I can look at her. I run the pads of my thumbs across the wetness beneath her eyes, and she looks back at me with so much fear that it makes my guts clench. “You’re here.” It’s all I can think to say at the moment. “You’re here.”

  She nods, and a fresh wave of tears fall.

  “You love me?”

  Another affirmation by jerking her head up and down, and when she sucks in a breath, it hitches. “Yes.”