Dane Page 8

  I didn’t know what to say. I never would have guessed she literally moved here with nothing after that kind of turmoil. She seemed so strong, so sure of herself, I never would have imagined she’d been literally stripped down to nothing.

  “Wow. Did he have a reason?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “What if he wasn’t happy? Not saying you made him miserable, because I’m sure you didn’t. But what if, for some reason, he wasn’t?”

  “Then he should’ve left me before he started seeing her. She knew about me. And you know what? I feel sorry for her. I pity her, because she was with a cheater, while knowing he was a cheater. And from now on, whenever he goes out without her, or comes home late from work, or uses his credit card at a department store, it will cross her mind that he’s doing the same to her. If he could cheat on me, then he can cheat on her.”

  My mind swam with drowning thoughts. She was right—if he wasn’t happy, he should’ve left. I got that. But I also understood being bound by constraints that prevent someone from leaving simply because they’re dissatisfied. Sometimes, they stay to protect the other person—to make sure they’re safe. Giving up is easy, but it’s the hardest thing in the world when you’re fearful for the other person’s wellbeing, their mental health, their sanity. However, one thing did become painfully clear to me in that moment. I now questioned my reason for staying with Gabi if I was so miserable and had been for quite some time.

  I stayed because I couldn’t risk her hurting herself.

  I sacrificed my happiness for her life.

  It wasn’t fair to me, but it was the path I chose.

  “Are you trying to tell me something, Eden? Is this your subtle way of suggesting I leave Gabi if I’m so miserable?”

  “No…not at all. I don’t presume to know anything about your relationship, other than what you’ve shared with me. And even knowing what little you’ve offered, I have no right to judge or form opinions. You were the one who asked me to tell you something about myself…so I did.”

  When she cast her gaze toward the ground again, I moved to stand in front of her, putting my finger beneath her chin and forcing her to meet my gaze.

  “Stop. Please stop hiding. It’s just me.”

  A small smile appeared on her lips. She reached out and touched my cheek, letting her fingertips linger on my skin until it burned with the heat of an inferno.

  I looked right into her eyes, which were hard to see with the sun gone, but that didn’t stop them from shining back at me. I wished I knew what she was thinking. What went through her head. I wanted to know all her thoughts, no matter the importance of them.

  My forehead dropped to hers—it was unintentional and happened naturally. But she didn’t push me away. Instead, she ran her fingers lightly over my beard and closed her eyes.

  Our breathing turned erratic and blended together in the small gap separating our mouths. Her panting breaths licked my lips, and it drove me crazy. I found myself in a war between right and wrong. But before I could do or say anything, she whispered the same words that burned the tip of my tongue, “You should go.”

  It was a douse of cold water on our hot moment, but it was desperately needed. Neither of us willing to make a move, but it was too hard to push away. I knew she felt it, too. I could tell by the way her chest heaved, and the way her hand lingered on my face. She made the right call.

  I stepped away, letting my hand fall from her chin as hers fell from my cheek, but I didn’t avert my eyes from hers. She didn’t turn away, either. It wasn’t all in my head—the chemistry between us wasn’t a figment of my imagination. It was there. It was almost tangible. The real question was whether it was right. If it was only physical or something else. The fact it was likely something else scared me the most. I wasn’t ready for that. Didn’t know if I ever would be ready to put something ahead of Gabi and her wellbeing.

  “Goodnight, Eden. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I didn’t wait for her reply. I turned around and started the lonely walk home. I should have spent that time getting my head straight, clearing my thoughts, and focusing on what was most important. But I didn’t. I strolled along, thinking about Eden and how different my life would be with her. No matter how promising that thought was, it could never happen. Someone else depended on me, and I couldn’t shirk that responsibility, that commitment.

  Gabi was curled up in bed with her e-reader and didn’t even acknowledge me as I walked into the room. The light from the screen illuminated her face with an almost ethereal glow. She was beautiful, but very different from Eden. Where Eden’s eyes were shaped like almonds and the color of a forest tree, Gabi’s were large and dark. Eden had creamy colored skin, not quite pale but certainly not tan. It looked like she could probably tan if she really tried. But Gabi was light brown all over, as if she spent hours in the sun instead of inside reading. Their hair was completely different, too. Both were long, but Gabi’s hung limply against her body. She used to put forth effort to make it look good, style it every day. She didn’t do that much anymore. If she did anything to it, she only put it up in a ponytail. It made me think about how I used to play with it across my chest as she laid on me.

  We didn’t do that anymore, either.

  I finally stopped staring at her. It was pointless. She didn’t notice me there, too engrossed in her book to pay any attention to me. Comparing the old version of Gabi to that of Eden wasn’t beneficial to anyone, but most importantly, it simply wasn’t fair.

  After my shower, I climbed under the covers, moving closer to her. I tried kissing her shoulder, hoping to gain her attention. It didn’t. “How’s your book?” I asked as I ran my fingertips down her small arm to her hand. That didn’t make her look my way, either. I finally gave up, knowing she was lost in the book, and the story was more important than me. They all were. Once she’d finish one, she’d be on to another. I hated those damn books. She used them as a way to escape reality.

  And in the process, me.

  I rolled over and gave her the space she clearly wanted. “Good talk,” I mumbled to myself.

  As I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathe, I thought for the first time about leaving her. I knew I couldn’t simply walk away after everything we’d been through—after everything she’d been through—but there was a part of me that desperately wanted to. However, that would make me an asshole. I had to think about Gabi and what would happen to her. What she’d do to herself if I left.

  After my very brief contemplation of putting myself first, I made up my mind. I couldn’t leave. She was making an attempt to heal. For her. For me. For us. I couldn’t be selfish and give up merely because things weren’t perfect. We’d been through hard times before, and we made it out on the other side. I had to have faith we’d get there again. I had to believe in her. If I didn’t, no one else would.

  She’d always been my priority.

  I just wished someone would make me one, too.

  7

  “I know it’s last minute, but I have a meeting in Texas on Monday morning. Would you be able to attend with me?” I asked Eden when she entered my office to drop off a few files.

  To say things at work were a little strained would be an understatement. For the past week, Eden barely made eye contact with me, even when discussing business, and she’d started closing the shared office door. To make matters worse, she even stopped coming to my office for lunch. Rather than eat with me, she’d been sharing lunches with Heidi, a woman in the legal team.

  I assumed her cold shoulder was because of our moment at the pier. However, I didn’t know for sure because we never discussed it again. In fact, we hadn’t shared a real conversation since. The silence and avoidance were probably for the best, but it fucking ate me alive. I craved to be near her, and it took me almost two days before I figured out why her avoidance was so monumental. I missed talking to her. I missed her interest in my life, and I missed hearing about hers. I hadn’t reali
zed how lonely I was until she started paying attention to me and then abruptly stopped. Now I was truly miserable.

  “Monday? As in three days from now?” she asked with wide, surprised eyes.

  “Yeah. I’ve been trying to meet with them for weeks, but they’ve been hesitant. I just received an email from them requesting an immediate meeting, and the only time they can schedule it is Monday. This is a really big opportunity and I can’t pass it up. It would be a good idea for you to come along and see how these meetings work.”

  “In Texas?”

  “Yeah, but you won’t have to worry about airfare or hotel—obviously, that would be taken care of. And food, too.” I couldn’t explain it, but my heart refused to beat while I waited for her answer.

  “Hotel? Like we’d be staying the night?”

  “Well, usually. I don’t care too much for spending an entire day in an airport.”

  “Um, yeah. I guess that’s fine. What exactly do you need me there for?”

  “You’re my assistant and I trust your judgment. You should be there by my side during the meeting and in case we sign a contract. I also thought you’d like to see how an acquisition takes place. If you aren’t interested in attending, that’s fine. I’ve always done it alone, anyway.” Uncertainty began to gnaw at me. Tentative of where she was mentally, if we’d ever get back to the way things were before, and how she felt about me. I felt like a fucking girl.

  Before she could give a negative response, I decided to give her an out. I shook my head and said, “You know what? Never mind.”

  “No, I want to go,” she protested.

  I tried to bite my tongue, but it didn’t work. “Do you? You’ve been evasive all week. You’ve ignored me and barely spoken, giving one-word answers at best. The only reason I can come up with as to why you’re acting this way is because of what happened at the pier on Monday. But that wasn’t just me, and you know it. You played a part in that, too. So I don’t know why I’m the one being punished.”

  She vigorously shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. I had no clue she would react that way. My biggest weak spot was a crying woman, and she pummeled the fuck out of it.

  “I’ve had a rough week. God, not everything is about you,” she spat out and then spun around, heading for the door.

  Hell, no. I wasn’t about to let her say that and then leave in tears. I ran around my desk and caught up to her before she reached her office. I grabbed her shoulders to stop her. She clung to the doorframe as I pressed my chest to her back. Her head fell against the wood, her soft cries filling the silence.

  “No. You can’t just say you had a rough week and then leave. You can’t start crying and then walk out. What happened? Talk to me. Tell me about it. I’ll do whatever I can to make it right. Just don’t leave like this, please.” I pressed my mouth to her hair right behind her ear, and all I could smell was gardenia. The scent my grandmother used to wear.

  She shook her head.

  “Just talk to me,” I begged.

  “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  “That’s bull. You’ve made me talk about all kinds of shit I wasn’t ready to talk about yet. You pushed me to open up to you, so now it’s your turn. It’s your turn to finally tell me something personal about you.”

  She spun around. The redness of her eyes made the green stand out even more. They were bright, like the sunlight breaking through treetops. It didn’t matter if this girl was happy, sad, angry, or indifferent—she was gorgeous no matter what emotion played on her features.

  “Really?” She was mad. Really, really mad—furious. Evident by the slight flair in her nostrils. “Every single time I ask you anything personal, you freeze up. You shut down and then that’s the end of the conversation. That was you, countless times. So don’t stand here and lecture me to open up.” She raised her voice and kept pointing her finger—at me, at her, at anything and everything.

  “You asked me personal questions about Gabi. I haven’t given you the answers because they aren’t my secrets to share. They aren’t my memories or tragedies to repeat or discuss with anyone. They’re hers. Ask me something personal about me, and I’ll tell you all your heart desires to know. But don’t ask about her and then hold it against me for not spilling intimate details of her life.”

  She crossed her arms, challenging me, and I began to worry I’d made a mistake by offering to answer personal questions. I clearly hadn’t thought that through.

  “Why are you still with her?” she asked in a steady, quiet voice.

  “I don’t even know how to answer that.” And that was the truth. My reasons for staying were tethered to Gabi’s secrets, and that led me back to being unable to offer an honest response.

  “Do you love her?”

  “Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?”

  “Are you happy?”

  I couldn’t answer that, either. All I could do was stare at her while she stared at me, daring me with pleading eyes. “I…um…I mean…I used to be. I know I will be again.”

  “So you’re not? Is that why you got quiet the other night when we were talking about my boyfriend cheating on me?”

  “I’ll admit it—I’m not at the moment. But I used to be. Sometimes really shitty things happen to people you really love, making them dispirited—hopeless. In turn, you take on their sorrow and become just as discouraged. How fair would it be if I left her because of that? It’s not her fault I feel this way. It’s not her fault she feels this way.”

  “So you’re going to stay with someone even though you’re miserable because she’s had a rough go at life? You’d rather be miserable than walk away? You’d be willing to pass up a chance at a fulfilled future because of her tragic past?”

  My heart grew tight and my head spun. It was like my thoughts over the last few weeks used her mouth as a portal. They were all the same questions I’d asked myself and came up with the same meager response—my commitment to her was more important than my own happiness. But I’d been too scared to even think about the truth, because the truth scared the living shit out of me.

  “Do you want me to leave?” I didn’t know why I even asked her that, but I did, and now I found myself holding my breath. It began to feel as if I hoped she’d make that decision for me so I wouldn’t have to. So I wouldn’t be the bad guy. I never realized how scared I was of making up my own mind until then.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you saying?” I asked, mirroring her raised voice.

  “You deserve happiness. If it’s with Gabi, then great. If not, then you need to fucking grow a pair and do something about it. Because you’re a great guy, probably the best I’ve ever met, and it’s not okay for you to be living like this. I don’t know who or what will satisfy you, but you deserve it. Probably more than anyone else. I only wish you could see it. I wish you thought you deserved it enough to make it happen.”

  I was speechless. I stood there and listened to every word she spoke, and I had no response. She was right…about most of it. If only it were that cut and dry. If only the decision wouldn’t affect anyone else. But it would. It was about another person, too. Not just another person. Gabi. And the thought of what could happen if I left struck fear into the very center of my being.

  “Email me the details of the trip and I’ll be ready,” she calmly stated and then left.

  I watched her go without moving an inch. I didn’t fight for her to stay; I didn’t tell her goodbye or respond in any way. I just stood there, motionless, and watched her pack her bag and leave. Once her office door was closed, I picked up the stapler from my desk and flung it across the room.

  I was full of so much emotion I couldn’t sort out. I didn’t know where to begin with the unfamiliar feelings. I’d never viewed myself as a coward before. But that’s what I was. I always thought I was selfless, benevolent, someone who considered others’ needs before his own desires. But it seemed as though I was nothing but a cowar
d. Someone who was too scared to follow his heart, and instead, called himself selfless.

  On my way home, I did nothing but replay every one of Eden’s words. I put them on repeat, listening to them over and over again in my head. I thought about what she’d said at the pier, as well. She would never tell me to leave, and I couldn’t expect her to. That had to be my choice. Only, I wasn’t ready to make that decision yet—if ever.

  When I got home, I found Gabi waiting for me in the foyer. She had on a sexy French maid outfit, duster, garter, fishnets and all. She walked to me, sensually swaying her hips from side to side, and suddenly, every thought in my head vanished.

  She sashayed toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me against her body. I was too stunned to respond. I hadn’t seen her act this way in so long, I wasn’t prepared for it. I hadn’t expected to come home and find her ready to play. She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed me…the way I’d longed for her to. And that’s when I tasted it.

  “You’ve been drinking, Gabs?”

  “Tsk, tsk…it’s Gabriella tonight,” she said with a fake, broken accent. “I’m the hired help you got from Peru. I am not a citizen, so you’ll have to pay me under the table…or on top of the table if you prefer. Or against the wall or behind the couch.”

  I’d wished for this, hoped and prayed to have this side of her again…but it felt wrong. If I gave in, I’d be an ass for taking advantage of her inebriation. And after my conversation with Eden prior to leaving work, I knew I needed to do something.

  “Talk to me, Gabi. What happened today?” She had another appointment with the therapist this morning, and I assumed her drinking had something to do with it.