Most of All You: A Love Story(40)

“I check the local online news every morning,” Gabriel said. “I hadn’t seen anything, but thought maybe you’d heard something new in town that might not be posted …”

“I wish I had.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel breathed. “Me, too.”

George nodded, his eyes lingering on Gabriel for a moment before he gave me another warm smile. “You be well, Ellie. I’ll see you soon.”

I nodded. “Okay. Nice meeting you.”

George’s truck drove away, leaving a trail of dust in its wake as it moved down the road.

“I heard about Wyatt Geller when I was in the hospital.”

Gabriel nodded, his body held more rigidly now than it’d been before.

“I’m sure it … brings back memories.” I felt awkward, not knowing exactly what to say.

“It does,” he said, and then he turned back to his rough-edged, as yet unrevealed, cherub.





CHAPTER TWELVE


Hold on, hold on. The sun shines for you, too.

Shadow, the Baron of Wishbone

GABRIEL

After that morning, it became a ritual. She joined me on the patio, limping to the same chair, her coffee cup in hand as the sun welcomed a brand-new day. I watched her surreptitiously as her eyes focused on the small sliver of golden light growing larger and larger on the horizon. I loved the expression on her face—cautious awe—as if she wasn’t sure she should allow herself to fall in love with anything beautiful, even the sunrise.

Sometimes it hurt me to watch her, hurt me to see that she was so lonely inside, so sure that the whole world was a dangerous place for her. I longed to show her that it didn’t have to be, but for now, I offered her the sunrise and a safe place to watch it. I prayed that someday soon she would trust that she deserved this beauty.

It scared me a little that I enjoyed our mornings together so much, because I knew they were destined to end. She was healing every day, and soon she’d leave here.

For a week, she’d been completely dependent on me for her every need. So sick, she allowed me to feed her and keep her hydrated. So weak, she couldn’t protest when I held her as the food came back up. So soft, I felt I had imagined the hard, resilient woman who needed no one or nothing. And strangely, being needed felt almost cathartic.

For twelve years, I’d been treated with kid gloves. No one had needed me. But Ellie had, and it had felt … right. Good. Despite her steely fa?ade, her soul was tender, kind. Although I figured she’d probably hate it if she knew how vulnerable she’d truly been, if she remembered what she’d allowed me to see while she was delirious with medication and fever.

And then the morning I’d been changing the dressings on her ribs and she’d reached out and traced my hands, my fingers. I’d felt a disjointed sense of distress, but the longer she’d touched me, the more a yearning rose in my soul, so strong it took my breath. It was the first time I’d enjoyed another person’s touch since I was a little boy. And though I was still slightly scared, I also undeniably longed for more. I wanted to feel her touch again. I wanted her to stay. When she left, I wanted her to want to come back. To me. If only to see the sunrises …

Don’t lie to yourself, Gabriel. You’re falling in love with her. Maybe you’ve already fallen.

Was I? Was this what it felt like to fall in love? A sort of agonizing joy? Or was it just that Eloise was going to make it harder than most, and I knew that and still didn’t care?

Eloise.

God, I’d felt like I might fall over when she told me her name. What were the odds?

And what was the strange pull that made me feel like we belonged together? Was I a fool? And if the answer was yes, did I care enough to do anything about it? No. Somehow being a fool for Ellie felt like it’d be worth it. Even this tearing inside reminded me that I was alive. Not only that, I was living. I was taking chances, following my heart, willing to risk being hurt for a broken girl too scared to stake a claim to anything at all, most especially me.

She is going to hurt you, Gabriel. You know that, right?

Yes. Yes, I suppose I did know that. And yet I was still all in.

A few days after George had stopped by, I found one of my mother’s favorite decorations in the attic and hung it in Ellie’s room in the evening, knowing she kept the shade open so that the first light of dawn would wake her. The next morning, just as a slip of sun began to show above the horizon, instead of going straight to the patio, I went to her room and knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.”

I found her standing in the middle of the room, leaning on her crutches, a look of joyful wonder on her face as she looked around at the rainbows scattered on the walls. Her gaze found mine. “How did you do it?” Her voice was breathy and soft.

I smiled, pointing to the crystal hanging from the window. “It’s a prism. My mom used to have it hung in our kitchen.” I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms loosely, completely captivated by her obvious delight. “When you were feverish, you kept mentioning rainbows. I thought … I thought you might like it.”

She tilted her head. “What makes them?”

I smiled, slightly surprised that she’d never seen a prism before. I almost said something about refracted light, but decided the uncomplicated answer held more magic. “Just sunlight.”