I stepped away, letting my hand fall from her chin as hers fell from my cheek, but I didn't avert my eyes from hers. She didn't turn away, either. It wasn't all in my head-the chemistry between us wasn't a figment of my imagination. It was there. It was almost tangible. The real question was whether it was right. If it was only physical or something else. The fact it was likely something else scared me the most. I wasn't ready for that. Didn't know if I ever would be ready to put something ahead of Gabi and her wellbeing.
"Goodnight, Eden. I'll see you tomorrow."
I didn't wait for her reply. I turned around and started the lonely walk home. I should have spent that time getting my head straight, clearing my thoughts, and focusing on what was most important. But I didn't. I strolled along, thinking about Eden and how different my life would be with her. No matter how promising that thought was, it could never happen. Someone else depended on me, and I couldn't shirk that responsibility, that commitment.
Gabi was curled up in bed with her e-reader and didn't even acknowledge me as I walked into the room. The light from the screen illuminated her face with an almost ethereal glow. She was beautiful, but very different from Eden. Where Eden's eyes were shaped like almonds and the color of a forest tree, Gabi's were large and dark. Eden had creamy colored skin, not quite pale but certainly not tan. It looked like she could probably tan if she really tried. But Gabi was light brown all over, as if she spent hours in the sun instead of inside reading. Their hair was completely different, too. Both were long, but Gabi's hung limply against her body. She used to put forth effort to make it look good, style it every day. She didn't do that much anymore. If she did anything to it, she only put it up in a ponytail. It made me think about how I used to play with it across my chest as she laid on me.
We didn't do that anymore, either.
I finally stopped staring at her. It was pointless. She didn't notice me there, too engrossed in her book to pay any attention to me. Comparing the old version of Gabi to that of Eden wasn't beneficial to anyone, but most importantly, it simply wasn't fair.
After my shower, I climbed under the covers, moving closer to her. I tried kissing her shoulder, hoping to gain her attention. It didn't. "How's your book?" I asked as I ran my fingertips down her small arm to her hand. That didn't make her look my way, either. I finally gave up, knowing she was lost in the book, and the story was more important than me. They all were. Once she'd finish one, she'd be on to another. I hated those damn books. She used them as a way to escape reality.
And in the process, me.
I rolled over and gave her the space she clearly wanted. "Good talk," I mumbled to myself.
As I lay there, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathe, I thought for the first time about leaving her. I knew I couldn't simply walk away after everything we'd been through-after everything she'd been through-but there was a part of me that desperately wanted to. However, that would make me an asshole. I had to think about Gabi and what would happen to her. What she'd do to herself if I left.
After my very brief contemplation of putting myself first, I made up my mind. I couldn't leave. She was making an attempt to heal. For her. For me. For us. I couldn't be selfish and give up merely because things weren't perfect. We'd been through hard times before, and we made it out on the other side. I had to have faith we'd get there again. I had to believe in her. If I didn't, no one else would.
She'd always been my priority.
I just wished someone would make me one, too.
7
"I know it's last minute, but I have a meeting in Texas on Monday morning. Would you be able to attend with me?" I asked Eden when she entered my office to drop off a few files.
To say things at work were a little strained would be an understatement. For the past week, Eden barely made eye contact with me, even when discussing business, and she'd started closing the shared office door. To make matters worse, she even stopped coming to my office for lunch. Rather than eat with me, she'd been sharing lunches with Heidi, a woman in the legal team.
I assumed her cold shoulder was because of our moment at the pier. However, I didn't know for sure because we never discussed it again. In fact, we hadn't shared a real conversation since. The silence and avoidance were probably for the best, but it fucking ate me alive. I craved to be near her, and it took me almost two days before I figured out why her avoidance was so monumental. I missed talking to her. I missed her interest in my life, and I missed hearing about hers. I hadn't realized how lonely I was until she started paying attention to me and then abruptly stopped. Now I was truly miserable.
"Monday? As in three days from now?" she asked with wide, surprised eyes.
"Yeah. I've been trying to meet with them for weeks, but they've been hesitant. I just received an email from them requesting an immediate meeting, and the only time they can schedule it is Monday. This is a really big opportunity and I can't pass it up. It would be a good idea for you to come along and see how these meetings work."
"In Texas?"
"Yeah, but you won't have to worry about airfare or hotel-obviously, that would be taken care of. And food, too." I couldn't explain it, but my heart refused to beat while I waited for her answer.
"Hotel? Like we'd be staying the night?"
"Well, usually. I don't care too much for spending an entire day in an airport."
"Um, yeah. I guess that's fine. What exactly do you need me there for?"
"You're my assistant and I trust your judgment. You should be there by my side during the meeting and in case we sign a contract. I also thought you'd like to see how an acquisition takes place. If you aren't interested in attending, that's fine. I've always done it alone, anyway." Uncertainty began to gnaw at me. Tentative of where she was mentally, if we'd ever get back to the way things were before, and how she felt about me. I felt like a fucking girl.
Before she could give a negative response, I decided to give her an out. I shook my head and said, "You know what? Never mind."
"No, I want to go," she protested.
I tried to bite my tongue, but it didn't work. "Do you? You've been evasive all week. You've ignored me and barely spoken, giving one-word answers at best. The only reason I can come up with as to why you're acting this way is because of what happened at the pier on Monday. But that wasn't just me, and you know it. You played a part in that, too. So I don't know why I'm the one being punished."
She vigorously shook her head as tears welled up in her eyes. I had no clue she would react that way. My biggest weak spot was a crying woman, and she pummeled the fuck out of it.
"I've had a rough week. God, not everything is about you," she spat out and then spun around, heading for the door.
Hell, no. I wasn't about to let her say that and then leave in tears. I ran around my desk and caught up to her before she reached her office. I grabbed her shoulders to stop her. She clung to the doorframe as I pressed my chest to her back. Her head fell against the wood, her soft cries filling the silence.
"No. You can't just say you had a rough week and then leave. You can't start crying and then walk out. What happened? Talk to me. Tell me about it. I'll do whatever I can to make it right. Just don't leave like this, please." I pressed my mouth to her hair right behind her ear, and all I could smell was gardenia. The scent my grandmother used to wear.
She shook her head.
"Just talk to me," I begged.
"I'm not ready to talk about it."
"That's bull. You've made me talk about all kinds of shit I wasn't ready to talk about yet. You pushed me to open up to you, so now it's your turn. It's your turn to finally tell me something personal about you."
She spun around. The redness of her eyes made the green stand out even more. They were bright, like the sunlight breaking through treetops. It didn't matter if this girl was happy, sad, angry, or indifferent-she was gorgeous no matter what emotion played on her features.
"Really?" She was mad. Really, really mad-furious. Evident by the slight flair in her nostrils. "Every single time I ask you anything personal, you freeze up. You shut down and then that's the end of the conversation. That was you, countless times. So don't stand here and lecture me to open up." She raised her voice and kept pointing her finger-at me, at her, at anything and everything.
"You asked me personal questions about Gabi. I haven't given you the answers because they aren't my secrets to share. They aren't my memories or tragedies to repeat or discuss with anyone. They're hers. Ask me something personal about me, and I'll tell you all your heart desires to know. But don't ask about her and then hold it against me for not spilling intimate details of her life."