One Night with her Bachelor(46)
She pressed her hand to her mouth, tears running hot down her cheeks. “Gabriel. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of that look.”
She shook her head. “What look?”
“The one you’re wearing right now. That look of grief. Heartbreak. Shock.” His voice caught. “That look of pity.”
She tried to swallow all her emotions, but they formed an excruciating ball in her stomach. He’d just nailed every single thing she was feeling. “I can’t help it. You… you…” The thoughts jumbled in her head, and she didn’t even know where to begin. “You’ve gone through all this on your own?”
“My mom and Camila know.”
Why couldn’t you tell me, too? She understood the need to feel in control of one’s own decisions when everything else spun out of control. But the fact he’d gone so far out of his way to help her while holding this part of himself back… it screamed of his lack of trust. It betrayed the fact he saw her as someone in need of rescuing instead of as an equal, someone capable of giving him the support he needed. “If anyone had a chance of sympathizing, don’t you think it would be me?”
His face contorted with anger. “I don’t want your goddamn sympathy. I don’t want you to feel bad for me. I want you to look at me the way you’ve looked at me up till now—like being with me takes you away from all the grief and disappointment instead of reminding you of it. I want you to look at me like I’m a man you want to be with, not one you feel sorry for.”
“I didn’t feel sorry for you till you said that.” She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and struggled to control her frustration. “Every time my life skidded off-kilter, Scott would grab my shoulders, give me a ferocious look, and say, ‘Never quit.’ He said it when Greg left me and Josh. He said it at our mom’s funeral and then at our dad’s. When I buried Scott next to them, I decided I would save up and have it engraved on his headstone. I know the saying was drilled into him during pararescue training, so it must’ve been drilled into you too. You’ve been trained to be big and tough and invulnerable, but let me give you a lesson I’ve learned recently. Asking for help is not quitting. Some problems are too big to take care of on your own, Gabriel. And then the bravest thing you can do is accept help from other people.”
His face didn’t even register that she had spoken. He’d blocked her out and escaped into a world she couldn’t touch. Pulling up his jeans and buttoning them, he said, “I should get you home. I have a long hike back to my cabin.”
Finished. The conversation—everything. His tone of voice left no room for anything more. She buried her chin in her coat and trudged back to the truck.
By the time he climbed into the driver’s side, the temperature felt as if it had dropped several degrees. The heater couldn’t cut through the chill in the air. Agonized silence filled the truck’s cab as they drove back to Marietta. Heartache clenched her chest, making it difficult to breathe. He sat right next to her, but he was gone and she had no idea where.
When he pulled into her driveway, he didn’t turn off the ignition, a subtle sign he only planned to drop her off instead of continuing their conversation or coming inside to say goodnight to Josh.
She hated this, but she refused to be the old Molly, the one who beat herself up for other people’s feelings. The one who contorted herself to be what others wanted her to be. She’d thought she and Gabriel had started down a path where they could be honest with each other, where they could express deeper feelings and emotions.
She’d been wrong.
Readying herself to get out of the truck, she reached for the door handle but her fingers clenched into fists. She couldn’t leave without figuring out what had happened. “Did I do something to make you think you couldn’t trust me?”
“No.” His reply was flat but emphatic. She didn’t believe him, but she refused to fight. If he couldn’t talk to her, she wouldn’t bash her head against a wall of stubborn silence.
She rubbed at the worry-wrinkle already re-forming between her eyebrows. “That’s too bad. If I did, I could try to fix it.”
She opened the truck’s door but he grabbed her arm and stopped her when she was halfway out. “Molly—”
She twisted to face him, hope welling up inside her.
“I’m sorry if things weren’t clear between us. I just wanted to help you have some fun, that’s all. I never expected it to get this far.”
And with that, he splintered her hope into a thousand pieces.
She got out of the truck, wishing she could say something clever or witty, something—anything—to prove to them both that his words hadn’t destroyed her. But she had no fight left in her. She started to close the door but forced herself to say one last thing because she couldn’t let him go without him knowing it. “I really appreciate everything you did for us, Gabriel. And for Scott. If it hadn’t been for you—” She swallowed hard. “I can’t even bear to think about it. Please take care of yourself. You deserve happiness, too.”
And then she closed the door and went inside before she fell apart.
Chapter Thirteen
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Gabriel trudged through the snow to his cabin, his prosthesis making the trek painful and slow. He carried the bag Molly had given him. Whatever it contained was big and soft, like a pillow but heavier. He hadn’t worked up the guts to undo the tape around it, and when he got home he tossed it onto his kitchen table so he could boil water for coffee. He doubted he’d sleep tonight anyway, so he might as well get himself jacked up on caffeine before heading to his workshop.