The phone rang, and it couldn't have happened at a more perfect moment. It disrupted the trip down memory lane at a point I needed to stop reminiscing.
My eyes met Eden's and hers went wide. She glanced between me and the ringing phone on my desk, silently telling me to answer it. I wasn't sure why I hesitated. I had been waiting for it to ring all morning, and when it finally did, I froze-paralyzed by what I'd hear on the other end of the receiver.
I picked up the phone and let out a sigh of relief when I heard Gabi's voice on the other end. Eden smiled at me and got up to return to her office, leaving me alone with my phone call.
"What did he say?" I asked impatiently.
"I told him I didn't want to be on medicine. I hate those pills, Dane."
"I know you do. What did he say?"
"He said we can try a few weeks of counseling and see how that goes, but if I'm not improving then he thinks I should try a different medication. What if I get like last time? I can't go through that again," she cried.
"We'll just have to try really hard to get through this together, okay? You have me, Gabs. I won't let anything happen to you. I swore once that I would keep you safe from ever getting hurt again, and I've kept that promise to the best of my ability, have I not?"
"Yeah, you have. I don't know where I'd be without you. I love you. You know that, right? I know I haven't been very good to you lately-I certainly haven't shown you how much you mean to me, and I hate that. You deserve better."
I loathed the despair in her voice. It fucking killed me. I was heartbroken that she thought more about my happiness than her own. There I was, openly discussing my relationship with Gabi to Eden, while Gabi was at home, feeling like shit because she wasn't able to be what I needed.
"Gabs, I know you love me. And we'll get through this. Just you and me, like always."
Gabi was quiet throughout dinner. I tried talking to her about the appointment, but all she gave me were general answers. I hated to push her, but I knew if I didn't, she would slip further and further away. It'd happened once before. Although, what had caused that downward spiral would have made anyone slip so far down the cracks they never would've come back. But Gabi had. I'd pushed her so hard I ended up pulling her, right back into the living. It's what gave me hope that there was light at the end of this tunnel, too.
"How about we go for a walk on the beach?" I asked her as we cleaned the kitchen together. At least that was an improvement. She normally retreated to the room with her e-reader and left it all for me. Much like the laundry and the cooking.
"No, I think I'm going to take a bath and finish this book I started yesterday."
"Okay, then I'll stay here." I didn't want to leave her all alone. I knew her visit with Dr. Greiner took a lot out of her, and my worry over her won out.
"Don't. You love your walks. I swear, I'm fine. I'm just drained from today and need to unwind. Please, don't let me keep you from your evening. I'll even wait up for you," she said with a short peck to my lips.
I wanted to argue, to show her some support by staying by her side, but she was right. My walks on the beach were cathartic and helped me clear my head-I needed them for my own mental wellbeing.
On my way out to the pier, I thought about how much I missed the days when Gabi would kiss me-like really kiss me. It had been so long since she last shoved her tongue down my throat like she really had to have it. It had been even longer since she said something dirty to me. And it made me wonder if that's what happens in relationships when you've been with someone for so long. I guess after more than eleven years of dating-over nine years living together-I should've expected that to die out. The possibility of complacency never crossed my mind, but it could simply be the natural evolution of long-term relationships. Maybe she wasn't as depressed as I believed her to be. Maybe I was too focused on the old version of Gabi and didn't take into account that no matter how much therapy she participated in, she'd never again be the version of the girl I'd fallen in love with. I didn't think I had changed that much since we first got together, but clearly I had. It was only rational for both of us to change.
The pier was empty when I walked up to it. But that didn't surprise me. I hadn't run into Eden there since that first night when we'd jumped into the water. Being here again without her left me thinking about a lot of things. The white noise of the waves on the shore took me to a place I'm not sure I was mentally ready to go.
I wondered if meeting Eden was fate-destiny. My relationship with Gabi was in the worst state of disarray-worse than it had ever been before. I couldn't stop questioning how much worse it'd get before we would start to see hope on the horizon-if it ever would get better. I was miserable. I couldn't deny that. Although, now that Gabi had agreed to seek help, I had hope for seeing some positive change, but the last thing I wanted to do was hang my hat on the possibility of a bright future. And for the last two weeks, Eden had been my saving grace. She'd been the light in the dark maze I'd been lost in. That realization only left me more perplexed.
Part of me questioned why I was still with Gabi. It sickened me when I allowed my thoughts to drift that way, but I couldn't help it. Some days I felt as though I hung in there out of pure obligation, because of a promise, a commitment I'd made to her when we were teenagers. But I knew that wasn't entirely true. I did love her. Even in her darkest days, I loved her. Although sometimes, I wondered if love was enough. There had to have been some subconscious reason I hadn't married her yet, even though we'd been engaged for almost a year. But for the life of me I couldn't reconcile any of it in my mind.
"Well, look who's here."
That melodic tone could only belong to one person-Eden. I instantly had a smile on my face before I even turned around, but the smile quickly fell once I saw her. She was dressed in a really tight skirt, which didn't even look much like a skirt. It looked more like a tiny piece of fabric, barely enough to cover her ass. Her tank top was loose and hung on her, but her tits were heavy and noticeable. I struggled to not stare. When I finally made my way up to her eyes, I noticed she wore her makeup like she had that night we'd first met at the bar. And her hair was in those big curls I loved so much.
She looked hot, and I felt like a dick for noticing.
"You haven't been here in a week," she said as she walked closer to me before lifting herself onto the railing, causing her skirt to ride up higher on her thighs.
"I've been here." My voice came out like a kid going through puberty. We each laughed awkwardly at the crack in my tone. And then we both audibly sighed.
"Well, I haven't seen you."
"Maybe we just keep missing one another. I take walks on the beach nearly every night, and I always end up here before going home. It's like my safe place."
"It is beautiful." She stared into my eyes as she said the words, and my heart skipped a beat. A light breeze drifted past us, catching her perfume and wafting it over me. I leaned into it, needing to smell it again. It wasn't until her breath hit my face that I realized how close I'd gotten.
Even her scent affected me.
"I shouldn't be here." I took a step away from her.
"No, you shouldn't," she said almost breathlessly.
"I should go home."
"Yes, you should." The words escaping her mouth were mostly filled with air and heavy breathing. Her internal struggle was as obvious as my own. The tension we both felt mirrored the other.
"No." I shook my head. "I was here first. You should leave. You should be the one to go home." I laughed, playing it off as a joke, even though it wasn't. Work was a safe place for us to be near each other and talk, but here … it was dangerous. Painfully aware of our mutual attraction, and the admitted struggle to both fight against it, it was wrong for us to meet up like this on the beach.
"You're right, I should go," she said but didn't move from her perch on the railing next to me. I'd put space between us, but it wasn't enough. She was still within arm's reach, and that was risky.
"Yes, you should."
"Maybe I'll come earlier next time, so you can't make me leave," she retorted with a coy smile.
"That's a good idea. I'll let you use my pier until I show up. Then you'll have to go home so I can enjoy it. That's how it'll work from here on out."
"That's so thoughtful of you, Mr. Kauffmann."
"I'm a thoughtful guy, Miss Clare."
"If you were, you'd share it with me."
"I am. I'm allowing you to be here when I'm not."
"Are you afraid to be here with me?" The smile remained on her face, but her tone had taken on the slightest hint of uneasiness-mocking me.