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“You really think he would do that?” I ask. I think about Dean. About all of the times, we've shared together. I don't know if he would really put his own daughter under house arrest. But then again, what do I know? I know him as a friend, not as a parent. And it's not like he's ever been in a situation like this before.
“I think he could,” Gabby says. “He wouldn't have to do it forcibly. He could just... guilt me. I love my family, I really do. I don't want to hurt them or let them down. As much as I love you as well, there are ways they could make me stay. Reasons that could make me want to stay. Or choose to, at least, even if it broke my heart. I'd rather break mine than someone else’s.”
“There's that, and the fact that time is of the essence. The sooner we tell him, the more truthful we're being,” I point out. “The last thing we want is for him to find out this has been going on for a really long time and he had no idea about it. Otherwise, I would suggest that we just play it cool, have you go to college in the fall here, ‘start’ a relationship then, but it would be untruthful.”
“And it would be too long to wait,” Gabby says, her eyes wide and full of emotion as she looks at me. “I don't want to be away from you for months. I can't. Especially not right now, at the beginning. I want to savor every moment of this.”
“As do I,” I say, tucking her hair behind her ears with one hand. “And not just from the beginning. I can't imagine a time in my life when I would ever wish to be apart from you again.”
“What, then?” she asks. “How do we do this? How do we do the honorable thing of telling him everything, and yet still honor him by telling him in the right way?”
“There’s only one option,” I say. “We video call him. Show him a united front, but also do him the courtesy of seeing him. Even if only virtually. We can’t be strangers to him, not right now. We can’t do it over an informal, impersonal call. The only way is to look him in the eyes, and with an ocean between us, video is the only option we have.”
Gabby nods, though I can see how afraid she is. It’s like she trusts me to carry this off. To make sure that everything works, that she doesn’t lose her relationship with her father in exchange for a relationship with me. It’s a lot of pressure.
And I have to step up, right now, and be the man who is worthy of that trust.
“Let’s call him.” I reach for my phone, scrolling to his number.
“Right now?” Gabby asks, almost in a panic.
I glance over at her. “Right. We should get dressed first. But otherwise, yes, right now. He’ll be waiting to hear from you, letting him know you’ve reached the airport. He’ll be awake and expecting a call. It has to be now.”
She bites her lip. “I know you’re right,” she says. “But I’m nervous.”
“Me, too,” I assure her, squeezing her hand. “But this is for us. For our future together.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Then I can do it. For our future together.”
We reconvene only a few minutes later, setting up the phone and propping it up on my coffee table so that we can both appear on the screen at the same time. I glance at her, turn to kiss her once for courage, and then press the call button before I can lose my nerve.
I’ve never felt like this before – this amount of pressure. No business deal, no interview, no appearance as a trade speaker has ever made me bat an eyelid or lose a drop of sweat. But here, now, it feels like everything is on the line.
And it is – because that’s what she is. Gabby. She’s everything.
The call connects, and after that brief awkward moment of the loading screen, Dean appears. He’s sitting in what looks like his own lounge, the lights low. It’s still early in the morning there or late, too early for the sun to have risen.
“Oz!” he exclaims, lifting a mug of probably coffee to his lips. Then his eyes spot Gabby, and he raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you found my daughter again, I see. Are you bringing her to the airport for me?”
“No, I’m not,” I say, facing him head-on. I don’t want to beat around the bush, even right now at the start of the conversation. It’s going to be so much easier if we just rip off the Band-Aid, so to speak.
