His presence, so close, ignites a flurry of conflicting emotions inside of me—longing, uncertainty, and a flicker of desire.
But I push them aside, steeling myself against the pull he exerts on me.Play it cool.I remind myself.
“What are you doing here?” I manage to ask, my voice coming out more breathless than I intend it to. It’s only been a few weeks, but god, I’ve missed him.
"I wanted to talk," he says, his voice soft. "Can we go in your room?”
My mind races, searching for an excuse to avoid being alone with him, but I know that I can't keep avoiding him like this. Reluctantly, I nod, leading him to my room where we can speak without Mom and Dad listening in.
As we settle into the quiet space, the tension between us is palpable. I can feel his gaze on me, probing and searching, but I refuse to meet it, focusing instead on a spot on the floor.
"Why didn’t you just call or send me a text?" I finally ask, unable to contain the question any longer. “It’s late. Don’t you have practice early tomorrow?”
Gabriel shifts uncomfortably, his expression pained. “I wanted to talk to you in person,” he admits. “I know things are … complicated."
I offer him a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his words.You can say that again.
"I just ... I miss you, Cecilia. More than I thought possible." The vulnerability in his voice cracks through my defenses, stirring something deep within me. But I can't let myself be swayed by his words, not when I've worked so hard to rebuild the walls around my heart.
"I miss you too," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "But that doesn't change what happened."
Gabriel nods, his expression pained. “I know. Which is why I know I have no right asking this of you, it's just …” He hesitates.
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I peer up at him through the veil of my lashes. “What is it?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, my heart pounding in my chest.
“I was hoping I could ask a favor,” he begins, his voice hesitant. “If it’s too much, just say the word. I don’t have any expectations here. It’s just …” He trails off again, his eyes searching mine.
“What’s the favor?” I prompt, my curiosity piqued despite my reservations.
“Tomorrow is my Mom’s wedding.” Oh. I’d completely forgotten about that. “And I know you’re busy. You have a lot going on so the timing is absolute shit but, I was hoping you'd maybe hang out with me for the day.”
His words catch me off guard, but as I meet his gaze, I see the raw vulnerability in his eyes, the unspoken plea for me to do this. My answer is almost immediate. Despite the uncertainty between us, I could never deny him this. Gabriel may have hurt me, but he's hurting too. I won't abandon him when he needs me most. I still care about him.
“Of course,” I nod, offering him a small, tentative smile. “But aren’t you going to the wedding?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. It’s a bad idea no matter how I look at it. But just knowing what’s happening tomorrow,” he shrugs. “It’s hard. I don’t need to be there to know she’s movingon with her life and I really don’t want to spend my day stuck in my head about it.”
I get it, but I still think he should go. His mom getting married is no small thing.
“Any chance I can get you to reconsider?” I ask.
Pursing his lips, he considers me. “She doesn’t want me there.” I can hear the little boy in his voice, the one who’s been hurt by his mom, but who desperately craves her love and acceptance.
“She sent you an invitation,” I remind him. “I’d say that’s a pretty big indication that she does.”
Gabriel shakes his head, unconvinced. “Trust me, she doesn’t. Me going wouldn’t end well.”
“I’ll still be your date,” I tell him. “If you go.” Clearing my throat, I add, “I’ll spend the afternoon with you regardless, but I think we should go to the wedding. I’d like to meet the woman who helped make you.”
Gabriel’s expression goes slack. “You want to meet my mom?” he asks, his voice filled with disbelief.
“Why not?” I tell him. “You’ve met mine.”
His mouth twists into a grimace. “That’s different,” he mutters. “Yours loves you.”
My heart breaks at his words.
“She loves you,” I assure him. “Besides, I promised I’d go with you before and I’d like to keep that promise. We should go to the wedding. Trust me. This will be good for you. For your mom, too.”
