“I’d heard.”
“What happened with Brandon—it’s why you became a paramedic, isn’t it?”
He couldn’t deny it. “Seeing him lying on the floor… That was the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced,” Gabe said quietly, resisting the urge to add until finding you unconscious in that car. “The golden dreams of degrees and football and college—they died that night, even if Brandon didn’t. So yes, it played a big part of it.”
“And so you punished yourself all this time.”
Had he? Had he really been punishing himself? “I think it’s more…acceptance, rather than punishment. It was worth it if it meant keeping Brandon alive, you know? Besides, I love my job. It’s not a penance.”
“But you stayed away from all of us.” Carly pulled out the second stool and perched upon it, her knees only an inch away from Gabe’s. “Why did you do that?”
He met her gaze. Finding out about Brandon really changed nothing between them. If anything, it made it worse. Did she feel sorry for him now? He clenched his teeth. Poor Gabe who’d been duped all this time. “Because you put me on that pedestal, Carly. You always did. And I don’t deserve to be there.”
“So you’re flawed. So what? I can’t be grateful to you for saving my life? Because that’s all it is. You were right. This isn’t the prom anymore. This is real life. I’ve got a baby now, one who is depending on me to do everything right. I’m divorced and a single mom and sole breadwinner of my little family and I’m trying to deal with that every day. You’re not the only one who has faults. I’d like to think we’ve both grown up since those days.”
He hated that she threw his words back at him. How foolish he’d been, how smug.
“Of course we’ve grown up. I shouldn’t have said that at the hospital that day.”
Silence fell, like an uncomfortable lump in the throat that refused to clear. He watched as Carly bit down on her lower lip and twisted her fingers together. Finally she lifted her head and let out a breath.
“Look, it’s like this. If you’ve been carrying around all this guilt about Brandon all this time… If you’ve been looking for a way to absolve yourself or whatever, don’t use me to do it. You did your job that night and I’m profoundly grateful you were there. But all the stuff afterwards…”
She paused, closed her lips, frowned. Whatever she had on her mind, he wanted her to finish it. Wanted them to clear the air so they could move forward without the weight of their past holding them back.
Carly crossed her arms, hugging her ribs. “I’m just saying, you don’t owe me anything, and I don’t want you doing me any favors just to ease your conscience.”
“To ease my…” The words slipped out and he clenched his fingers. “That’s what you think? That this is all about setting things right?”
“Isn’t it?”
Gabe stared into her eyes. Was she right? After all, wasn’t that why he came here today? To tell her the truth because he didn’t want her getting the wrong idea? But what was the wrong idea anyway? If he was so sure this wasn’t about Brandon, then where did that leave him? With it all being about her, which was precisely what he didn’t want her to think…
Because he’d blown his chance once before and he was terrified of blowing it again. Because all he’d been able to think about lately was her. He’d expected her to turn him away because of what he’d done to Brandon. Instead she thought he was using her to clear his conscience. It would be comical if it didn’t sting quite so much.
“I’m glad you talked to me about this, Gabe. I always thought you knew…”
But he hadn’t known. Would he have done anything differently if he had? He swallowed thickly. Maybe he would have. Maybe he would have walked up to her door and asked her out on a proper date, not as a fill-in for some jerk who stood her up. And now all the reasons he’d stayed away didn’t even exist. Brandon wasn’t his friend anymore and it wasn’t his fault. He had been right the first time when he’d told her he was an idiot. He was. First class.
“I’m glad you told me about Brandon,” he said, but his voice sounded odd and toneless. He had to get out of here, before he did something stupid like admit how he felt. Like say how she’d been on his mind night and day. Before he leaned over and kissed her lips that were, right now, pursed just the tiniest bit. Hadn’t she just made it clear that she wasn’t interested? If he told the truth now, it would ruin the tentative friendship they’d established.
“I should go. The baby will be getting up soon and I’m on shift tonight.”
His change in mood seemed to give her pause as she sat back a little, her brows pulling together the way they used to when she was trying to solve a particularly challenging geometry problem.
“I appreciate you mowing the lawn today. And stopping by the hospital. But if it was out of a sense of obligation…”
She let her last words hang in the air. Had he felt obligated? He wished he could say yes and wash his hands of the whole thing. But he couldn’t. He’d done it because he’d wanted to—for her. And she wasn’t looking for romance. She’d come right out and said it. She was preoccupied with the day-to-day grind of single motherhood. Romance was the last thing on her mind.
“Just consider it a gift from a friend then,” he murmured, swiveling the stool and standing. “And know that if you need anything, you can give me a call.”
She followed him to the door and he put his grassy sneakers back on in the uncomfortable silence between them. A gift from a friend. Now that he’d broken down the barrier standing between them, he realized that he didn’t want her for a friend. He wanted more. The prom was for kids. She was right. This was grownup land. And he wanted her like a man wanted a woman. Maybe he always had.
“Will you do that?” he asked, raising his gaze to hers. “Call me if you need anything? Anything at all?”
She nodded, but he wasn’t quite sure he believed her.
He looked back at her front door when he reached his truck, nearly lifting his hand in a last wave, but she’d already closed the door.