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Without him, I’d become a floor person. I needed him so badly I could scream.
I’d never felt this way before, not even close.
The only thing I could remember that even fractionally compared was when one of my sisters stole my most cherished treasure, an adored-until-threadbare teddy I’d named Bearatrix Potter, and fed poor Bearatrix to the neighbor’s Rottweiler.
The shreds of fabric and fluff decorated our lawn and haunted my nightmares for years. I’d been utterly devastated by the loss of my best friend in all the world, the one being I’d loved above everyone and everything else.
And that had only hurt a fraction of what I was feeling now.
Because…ohmyfreakinggosh…I was in love with Gabriel Stryker.
I slapped my hand down on the floor at the realization.
Sharp, piercing pain stabbed through my palm.
That wasn’t what hitting the floor was supposed to feel like.
I lifted my hand in front of my face and found a rogue thumbtack sticking out of my skin, and because delirium had overtaken me, I laughed.
Love was sharp and stabbing. Love was the kiss that made all the pains of the world feel better. Love was Gabriel freaking Stryker.
I knew what I had to do.
If I had any hope of reaching him, any chance of regaining what we’d lost, I needed to write the most heartfelt of exposing apologies. I needed to not only convey the endless depths of my remorse, but take full responsibility, and make it clear that Ididn’t still cling to every thought I’d had along the way. I needed to show him how I saw all of the bickering and struggles now.
Gabriel valued honesty. It was time for radical truth from my soul.
I sat up, pulled the pin out of my hand, and opened my phone.
Then I typed. Light faded around me as I searched for the right words, as I let my heart pour out onto digital paper.
I crossed out sentences, rewrote paragraphs, agonized over every phrase. It had to be perfect. I didn’t stop until I was satisfied with every single line.
Bleary-eyed and exhausted, I read over the finished post.
It was the truest I'd ever been, with anyone including myself. Terrifying in its vulnerability, but freeing too. Whatever Gabriel decided, for the first time I felt fully free, and I’d be fully seen, too.
Before making the rash decision to go ahead and hit post, I decided to take a moment—what would Gabriel do?
He’d sleep on it. He’d take perfection and scrutinize it a dozen more times just to be entirely sure he hadn’t made some sort of mistake by choosing a word or phrase that could be taken in more than one way.
It was the smart move. And I needed to be smart.
So I grabbed one of the waiting cupcakes, gave the ceiling dinosaur the finger, and prayed that this time, finally, I was making the right choice.
FORTY
GABRIEL
A knock at my door startled me from flipping throughMetabolic Pathways and Biochemical Synthesis.Though the encyclopedia should have been a page turner, I had read the same passage three times without gleaning any insights.
The distraction wasn’t more than my broken heart had provided on its own. Still, I wasn't expecting company.
Opening the door revealed Jasper's athletic frame leaning against the door jamb, a grease-stained duffle bag in his hand.
“Hey man,” he said, peering at me over his sunglasses. “Thought we could tackle that tune-up on your old Ford today. If you're not busy.”
Jasper and I occasionally worked on cars together, but every meeting was always planned in advance. His showing up unannounced was unusual. I didn’t care for it.
