James nodded, his hands settling into his pockets as he regarded the flowers before them.
“Yes, and restorative,” he said.
Genevieve finally glanced at him, the faintest trace of wariness in her eyes, though it was not directed at him specifically. It was a reflection of the emotional turmoil still gripping her.
James did not rush her. Instead, he allowed the stillness to stretch, respecting the moment before he spoke again.
“Gabriel has spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm’s length,” he said softly. “It is not malice, and it is not indifference. It is self-preservation.”
Genevieve looked at him fully now, the sharpness in her gaze returning just slightly, though not in combat, but in expectation.
James continued, making efforts to be as cautious as he could.
“I have known him since war hardened us both,” he said. “I have watched him push away those who might anchor him, not because he does not want them, but because he believes closeness is a risk too great to bear.”
Genevieve did not interrupt. She appeared to be more interested in her journal, even though James saw the tremble in her fingers and in the corners of her mouth.
“He carries guilt that does not fade,” he said. “He feels responsible for the men lost under his command. He feels unworthy because of a horrible woman who once saw only his scars and nothing else. He also has the belief that anything fragile in his care will suffer for it.”
Genevieve’s throat moved as she swallowed.
“I appreciate what you are doing, James,” she said quietly. “But it is not necessary.”
James shook his head, taking a small step toward her.
“He believes distance is protection,” he said. “He believes that isolation is a shield against harm.”
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides.
“ I do believe that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
James reached for a nearby bloom, brushing a single petal between his fingers before releasing it.
“The more Gabriel cares, the more fiercely he retreats,” he said. “He has done it to Sophia, and to me, as well. It is the only defense he trusts.”
Genevieve did not speak immediately. James saw the moment she internalized the truth in his words, understanding them not as excuse but as insight. She had always seemed intelligent enough to recognize Gabriel’s flaws. She was perceptive enough to acknowledge where they stemmed from. And she had never judged Gabriel on his outward appearance. She had simply assessed him based on the way he treated her. It was now only a matter of whether she would allow herself to move through the walls Gabriel had built, or if she would allow them to stand.
***
Genevieve listened carefully, absorbing each of James’s words with silent intensity. His insight provided a painful but plausible framework for understanding Gabriel’s behavior. She had sensed his retreat before, recognized his instinct to withdraw when faced with emotional proximity. However, seeing it laid out so clearly and hearing it explained by someone who had spent years witnessing the patterns firsthand solidified what she had only suspected.
James’s explanation was not an excuse, nor did she take it as one. He had not attempted to soften the truth or shield her from the weight of it. Gabriel’s distance was not rejection. It was protection, twisted by his past losses, honed intoinstinct by fear rather than reason. Every action had been a defense, every sharp-edged silence a barrier meant not to harm her but to shield her. Yet knowing this did not lessen the ache.
She appreciated James’s honesty, and the gratitude she felt toward him settled quietly beneath the sting of Gabriel’s deliberate avoidance. Her mind processed the information carefully, dissecting the moments leading to Gabriel’s latest retreat, tracing the pattern from the near-miss of danger to his amplified withdrawal now.
He had convinced himself that closeness carried risk, that allowing her in would expose her to the same pain that had shaped his isolation. She had never feared Gabriel’s scars, neither the ones upon his skin nor the ones embedded deep within him. Yet she realized with a sharp pang that he feared far more than rejection. He feared consequence.
Her gaze drifted to James, who had fallen silent for a moment, his expression steady but contemplative. She recognized that he was offering her space to process everything, allowing her the time to absorb the weight of his revelations without pressing for immediate response.
Then, as if sensing the need for a shift, James spoke again.
“Sophia has voiced her concerns to me,” he said. “She and I have spoken at length when we feel just as you do right now.”
Genevieve glanced at him fully, catching the slight change in his demeanor. His expression, usually controlled, softened noticeably at the mention of her sister-in-law’s name.
Something in the way he spoke piqued her interest and provided her the distraction she needed. She observed him for a moment, then allowed a faint, knowing smile to touch her lips.
“You care for her,” she said.
