Gabriel finally looks back at me, his eyes a mix of anger and hurt. “We’re supposed to be in this together, Cecilia. You said you wanted a real relationship, but this—” He shakes his head. “You can’t shut me out of the big decisions like this.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them back, standing my ground. “I can when they’re my decisions to make.” My voice thickens, but I push through. “I know you don’t want to hear that, and I’m sorry. I really was going to tell you. But I need you to understand that I’m doing what I need to do to move on. I want us to be a team. To be on the same page. But I also need you to support me, even when I’m making decisions you don’t necessarily agree with.”
Gabriel’s shoulders sag, some of the fight leaving him. “Right,” he mutters. “Looks like you’ve already made up your mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I think I have.”
He steps forward, pulling me into his arms, and I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in.
“I just need this to be over,” I murmur, my voice barely holding steady.
Gabriel presses his lips to the top of my head. His touch is gentler now, but there’s still tension coiled in his body. “I know, baby. I’m trying to understand that. But I also need you to understand that if we’re going to make this work, you have to start letting me in.”
I close my eyes, trying to block out the mess of emotions swirling inside me. “I’ll try.”
gabriel
. . .
I’m holdingon by a thread, frustration simmering just beneath the surface, as the reality of the situation slips further out of my control.
Mr. Ayala leaves, promising to schedule an appointment with Cecilia and her father soon so they can discuss the particulars of the plea agreement should she decide to move forward, and fuck, it seems like she does.
I bite my tongue and brace myself for her words as Cecilia shows him the door. She waves him goodbye, closes the door, and slumps against it.
“Not really the way I saw today going,” she mutters.
Taking a deep breath, I set my frustration aside and remind myself why I’m here. We were going out. I had everything planned. No way in hell am I going to let this new revelation throw a wrench in my plans.
We’re going to have ups and downs. Disagreements. But part of being in a relationship is working through disagreements like this. I take another deep breath. I just gotta be calm and collected so we can talk through this.
“Why did you decide to meet with Holt’s mom?” I ask, keeping my tone even.
Cecilia chews on her bottom lip. “I didn’t exactly decide to meet with her … it err … it wasn’t really planned,” she says.
“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice tightens despite my best efforts.
She rubs the back of her neck and glances at me. “Can we just ... go out? If we start talking about this now, you're going to get mad, and I really want us to have a good day.”
I pause, exhaling through my nose. “I’m not going to get mad.” The way she looks at me says otherwise, and it stings, but I push it down. “I swear. I just ... need to understand. Keeping me in the dark like this, it's messing with my head. Help a guy out because I’m low-key spiraling here, babe.”
Her shoulders relax a little, her expression softening. “You promise?”
“I promise.” I sigh. “Just talk to me.”
“And you’ll let me finish my story. No interruptions and no freaking out.”
I nod.
“Okay.” She takes my hand and pulls me upstairs, like she needs the comfort of familiar spaces to say everything she needs to. She sits on the bed, her back against the headboard, tapping the space beside her. I join her, wrapping my arm around her as she leans into me, and I steel myself for whatever’s coming.
“After Felix dropped me off, I went for a walk and?—”
She spends the next ten minutes telling me what happened, and true to my word, I don’t interrupt her. Not once. Where I fuck up, however, is that I am absolutely freaking the fuck out and it is taking every ounce of my control to keep that to shit inside my own head because What. The. Fuck?
When she finishes, I can barely breathe.
“So, that’s sorta everything,” she says quietly, almost like she’s waiting for me to blow up.
