She crossed her arms, challenging me, and I began to worry I'd made a mistake by offering to answer personal questions. I clearly hadn't thought that through.
"Why are you still with her?" she asked in a steady, quiet voice.
"I don't even know how to answer that." And that was the truth. My reasons for staying were tethered to Gabi's secrets, and that led me back to being unable to offer an honest response.
"Do you love her?"
"Of course, I do. What kind of question is that?"
"Are you happy?"
I couldn't answer that, either. All I could do was stare at her while she stared at me, daring me with pleading eyes. "I … um … I mean … I used to be. I know I will be again."
"So you're not? Is that why you got quiet the other night when we were talking about my boyfriend cheating on me?"
"I'll admit it-I'm not at the moment. But I used to be. Sometimes really shitty things happen to people you really love, making them dispirited-hopeless. In turn, you take on their sorrow and become just as discouraged. How fair would it be if I left her because of that? It's not her fault I feel this way. It's not her fault she feels this way."
"So you're going to stay with someone even though you're miserable because she's had a rough go at life? You'd rather be miserable than walk away? You'd be willing to pass up a chance at a fulfilled future because of her tragic past?"
My heart grew tight and my head spun. It was like my thoughts over the last few weeks used her mouth as a portal. They were all the same questions I'd asked myself and came up with the same meager response-my commitment to her was more important than my own happiness. But I'd been too scared to even think about the truth, because the truth scared the living shit out of me.
"Do you want me to leave?" I didn't know why I even asked her that, but I did, and now I found myself holding my breath. It began to feel as if I hoped she'd make that decision for me so I wouldn't have to. So I wouldn't be the bad guy. I never realized how scared I was of making up my own mind until then.
"I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying?" I asked, mirroring her raised voice.
"You deserve happiness. If it's with Gabi, then great. If not, then you need to fucking grow a pair and do something about it. Because you're a great guy, probably the best I've ever met, and it's not okay for you to be living like this. I don't know who or what will satisfy you, but you deserve it. Probably more than anyone else. I only wish you could see it. I wish you thought you deserved it enough to make it happen."
I was speechless. I stood there and listened to every word she spoke, and I had no response. She was right … about most of it. If only it were that cut and dry. If only the decision wouldn't affect anyone else. But it would. It was about another person, too. Not just another person. Gabi. And the thought of what could happen if I left struck fear into the very center of my being.
"Email me the details of the trip and I'll be ready," she calmly stated and then left.
I watched her go without moving an inch. I didn't fight for her to stay; I didn't tell her goodbye or respond in any way. I just stood there, motionless, and watched her pack her bag and leave. Once her office door was closed, I picked up the stapler from my desk and flung it across the room.
I was full of so much emotion I couldn't sort out. I didn't know where to begin with the unfamiliar feelings. I'd never viewed myself as a coward before. But that's what I was. I always thought I was selfless, benevolent, someone who considered others' needs before his own desires. But it seemed as though I was nothing but a coward. Someone who was too scared to follow his heart, and instead, called himself selfless.
On my way home, I did nothing but replay every one of Eden's words. I put them on repeat, listening to them over and over again in my head. I thought about what she'd said at the pier, as well. She would never tell me to leave, and I couldn't expect her to. That had to be my choice. Only, I wasn't ready to make that decision yet-if ever.
When I got home, I found Gabi waiting for me in the foyer. She had on a sexy French maid outfit, duster, garter, fishnets and all. She walked to me, sensually swaying her hips from side to side, and suddenly, every thought in my head vanished.
She sashayed toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me against her body. I was too stunned to respond. I hadn't seen her act this way in so long, I wasn't prepared for it. I hadn't expected to come home and find her ready to play. She stepped up on her tiptoes and kissed me … the way I'd longed for her to. And that's when I tasted it.
"You've been drinking, Gabs?"
"Tsk, tsk … it's Gabriella tonight," she said with a fake, broken accent. "I'm the hired help you got from Peru. I am not a citizen, so you'll have to pay me under the table … or on top of the table if you prefer. Or against the wall or behind the couch."
I'd wished for this, hoped and prayed to have this side of her again … but it felt wrong. If I gave in, I'd be an ass for taking advantage of her inebriation. And after my conversation with Eden prior to leaving work, I knew I needed to do something.
"Talk to me, Gabi. What happened today?" She had another appointment with the therapist this morning, and I assumed her drinking had something to do with it.
She tossed the duster onto the kitchen counter and turned away, her shoulders drooping. This was the real Gabi, the one I'd grown so familiar with. The depressed person I'd been living with for months on end.
"You can talk to me, Gabs. I'm here. I'm willing to listen. All you have to do is trust me. Open up to me like you used to."
"I'm so tired of talking!" she yelled through a sob.
I couldn't contain my scoff. "Are you kidding me right now? You never talk. Not to me! You hole yourself up in our room all day and either sleep or read. You don't even look at me anymore. I feel like you wouldn't even notice if I was gone."
She turned around and her tear-stained face made my breath catch in my throat. "Don't leave me," she begged with the tiniest whimper. "I know I haven't been good to you, and I'm trying to change that. I'm trying to be intimate with you, but you're pushing me away."
"That's not true. I'm desperate for it, Gabi. But I refuse to do it this way. Not when you've been drinking. I know if you were sober, you'd be in bed, in sweats, hidden behind your book-not trying to seduce me. Did something happen at your appointment today that upset you?"
She nodded and wiped her blotchy face.
"Tell me about it. I want to hear what happened. Let's do this together."
"Dr. Greiner thought it would be a good idea to discuss my mom. He knows all about my issues with her, so I don't understand why he'd make me go there again. But he did."
"Did you talk about her?"
"Yeah." That's all she needed to say. I knew how badly her mother had hurt her, the irreparable damage she'd caused, and I understood where her pain had come from, having to dredge it all up again. "So I came home and had a glass of wine to calm down. Then I had another."
"If you have to drink after talking about your mom, then I'm going to assume there's a logical reason behind Dr. Greiner's interest in revisiting those issues. You need to actually deal with what happened, Gabi. There's a big difference between talking about it and dealing with it."
Her bottom lip quivered right before she sucked it into her mouth. She grabbed her glass of wine from the counter and turned around, saying, "I'm going to take a bath," over her shoulder.
"What about dinner?"
"I'm not hungry." That was all she said to me for the rest of the night.
Two visits to her therapist and she'd locked herself up tight in her depression, while holding me hostage, as well. I didn't leave her side the entire weekend. I knew she was upset about me going on the work trip Monday morning, but her despair was more than that. It went beyond not wanting me to leave her alone for a day. Although, she wouldn't admit it. She continued to say her mother wasn't the issue, and I eventually gave up trying to reason with her.
I didn't know how much longer I could hold out before tossing in the towel and giving up completely. Her darkness knew no bounds and would eventually take me down with her. I didn't know how much more I could handle.
"What do you mean, one room?" Eden shouted in disbelief at the hotel receptionist. We'd caught an early flight out to Texas and spent the entire trip in silence-her dealing with her personal issues, and me dealing with mine. This was the first time I'd heard her actually speak more than two words strung together since I'd picked her up from her apartment at five this morning.