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“That’s about twelve hours from your last meal—you have to eat something and then go to bed,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto mine.
Just as I’m about to protest that I’m not sleepy, a yawn betrays me. To add to this unintentional admission of fatigue, my stomach growls audibly. Gabe raises an eyebrow, giving me that all-too-familiar look that silently calls my bluff.
With no other option left, I begrudgingly pick up the sandwich and take a bite. I know better than to skip meals.
“So, why did Izzy call? And more importantly, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Gabe’s question is casual, but his eyes are searching, trying to gauge my reaction.
I sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion. I’ve been awake for twenty-four hours. The lack of sleep might bring a headache, which will trigger the memories and will induce a panic attack. So it’s best if I give up. I don’t have the energy to continue this standoff. He’s bound to win, not because he’s always right, but because of his unyielding stubbornness.
He’s always claimed I was the stubborn one, but I’m certain it’s him who can never let things go—ever.
“I’m not sure. Around eight, I’ll call Izzy to see where we’re going to meet, talk, and then . . .” My voice trails off, and I shrug. “We’ll see.”
“Have you two spoken since . . . the fallout?” he continues with the questions.
It bothers me that he calls it a fallout though. What happened was more like my sister giving me the cold shoulder because her father said so. Though I’ve in a way moved on from that nightmare, I still grieve the relationship I had with my siblings and Richard Lewis while growing up. I adored Cedric and Izzy and Dad . . . Well, he was a great dad up until he married Helen but it all ended when I went against his wishes with my mother’s reappearance.
“You already know the answer. Can we stop all the questions?” I take another bite of my sandwich.
His finger taps my phone which rests on the counter. “Who was that on the phone?” he asks curiously.
I shoot him a glare, feeling a surge of irritation. “It’s none of your fucking business,” I snap back.
“Ame,” he says softly, reaching out to place a hand on my arm, probably to close the emotional distance I’ve created. But I resist that connection. I don’t need his consolation. I don’t need him.
“Seriously. I came to check on my sister, not to see you,” I declare, my voice might be a bit too harsh but I want to make it clear that my presence in Seattle has nothing to do with him. “As I mentioned earlier, I accepted the ride because of Lyric, not you.”
“Obviously, it’s not about me,” he retorts, his eyes darkened with anger and frustration.
We’re just seconds from starting a big fight. I know what’s going to happen. He’ll try not to yell, but I’ll lose my shit and begin to raise my voice. We’ll say things we don’t mean, hurt each other, and then . . . I stop my mind and take a deep breath.
I’m not that person. I’ve worked pretty hard to control my impulses, to stop myself from exploding. Clearly, he’s upset with me. He probably thinks I personally wronged him for coming to Seattle to see Isadora and not him.
Why would he want me here?
“I’m just going to leave so you can go to sleep,” I announce, pushing myself to stand up, eager to escape this moment. Him.
There has to be a coffee shop around here about to open. I’m a patient woman, I can wait until then.
“Stop, Ameline,” he orders. “You’re staying here. Knowing you, you don’t even have a hotel reservation.” His hand abruptly combs through his hair, fingers tangling briefly in the long strands.
It makes me wonder when the last time he cut his hair was. It also makes me want to know what he’s done since I left. But I shouldn’t care. I have to leave before I forget why he’s bad for me.
Our gazes clash, mine sparking with frustration. “You do understand I’m not your responsibility, right? I wasn’t then, I’m not now,” I snap, my words come out too sharp.
Calm down before you begin another fight. It’s not worth it to insult each other. We already hurt each other too much, and the end was too devastating to want to repeat it.
Gabe’s anger is unmistakable. His jaw is tightly set, and his eyes burn with a turbulent mix of frustration and concern.
“It doesn’t matter if I tell you how much I fucking care about you—that I love you. Knowing that you’re out there unsafe kills me. None of what I say will be important because in the end you won’t believe me.” His voice booms throughout the house.
“What happened between us was just out of fear and pity. You didn’t feel shit, and . . .” I take a breath. This shouldn’t be a fight, but my chance to set a few things right. I spoke to my therapist about it a while back. I even wrote a letter that I never sent. “Listen, Gabe, I’m grateful for all you did, but I had to move on with my life. We both did.” The words leave my mouth colder than I intended, but what else can I say?
The truth? It’s impossible to articulate. Leaving was a necessity. Staying felt like it was eroding me, piece by piece.
The truth was that I loved him with all my heart, and he never cared enough about me.
Thankfully, being close to the Decker family taught me many things, most importantly that everyone deserves their slice of happiness. And staying in a place that asphyxiated me was nothing short of foolish.
