Page 83 of Miss Manage

My parents exchanged a look with quiet understanding. My dad finally spoke, his tone sincere. “Then you apologize. And you earn it back.”

“How?” My voice cracked more than I wanted. “How do I prove to her she can trust me when this is exactly what she’d been afraid of?”

Mom boldly asked her next question. “Do you love her?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “So much it hurts to think I’ve lost her.”

“Then don’t give up,” Mom whispered, taking a seat beside me on the sofa.

“Giving up is my specialty,” I muttered, my voice flat. “Ask Tanya.”

My dad’s response was immediate. “That’s bullshit. You didn’t give up. You escaped an unhappy and unhealthy relationship.”

My mom shot him a warning look, but he continued. “No, I’m saying this now because I should’ve said it years ago. We watched you twist yourself in knots trying to make your marriage work. And not once did we think you needed to try harder, Gabriel. When you ended it, we weren’t disappointed, we were relieved you finally realized you deserved better. And so did Samantha.”

The words landed deep, shaking loose something I hadn’t realized I was still holding on to. For so long, success had been my compass. I’d carried around the weight of an assumption that my parents had been ashamed I couldn’t salvage my marriage.

I glanced between them, disbelieving. “I always thought you were both so disappointed in me. Then I left for London, and I figured it compounded.”

Mom’s eyes softened, a sheen of tears gathering. “Oh, Gabriel.” She took my hand in hers. “We were never disappointed. All we’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. And seeing you with Charlotte the other night? It was the first time we’ve seen you truly happy. The kind that isn’t about obligation or guilt, but peace.”

For the first time in years, the heaviness I’d carried cracked, just a little. They hadn’t been quietly disappointed in me. I’d simply been too wrapped up in my own guilt to see it.

But despite the unexpected relief, one ache refused to ease. “I need a plan. I need to figure out what to say to Charlotte.”

My mom patted my knee. “Then you’ve come to the right place. Let me grab something stronger and call your brothers.”