The moment he discovered he did not have the knack for something, he stopped trying to do it. Empathy, friendship, dating, relationships in general. He embraced a challenge only if he knew he could succeed.
The hard truth of the matter was that Gabriel was spoiled. He got what he wanted, and did not want what he could not get.
"May I ask you a favor?" Olivia said. She continued without waiting for an answer. "Go to Rose's, please. I don't want you driving home, and I know you don't want me around, so just do that. Please."
She didn't look at him when she said it. It was not as if she was intentionally avoiding his gaze, but as though she simply couldn't be bothered facing him. Resignation dragged down her voice to a monotone, as if she were reading instructions from a card.
Just go, Gabriel. I'm done with you.
She was tired of him. Tired of tiptoeing around his moods. Tired of putting up with him.
Then why do you?
He'd asked her that because he wanted an answer. No, he wanted a declaration. Not of love but of something. Of friendship, of commitment, of caring.
He'd wanted her to say what he could not. He'd put the burden on her.
I'm not good at this, so I won't do it. You will.
Only she hadn't. Her face had crumpled and her eyes had filled with tears, and he'd pulled back sharply, trying to figure out what he'd done, what he'd said. It was only when she walked away that he realized she hadn't heard Please tell me why you stay but a sneering and sarcastic Why do you stay, then? Even if he hadn't said it that way, that's what she'd expected.
She rose. "Your jacket is inside. I know you keep your keys in the pocket. I'm taking them. If you insist on having them back, come and get them. But I'd really like you to stay at Rose's tonight."
Let Rose deal with you. I can't. Won't.
Could he blame her? No, not at all.
She got as far as the door, and then turned and said, her voice gentler, "If you want to talk, you know where I am." A pause, and a sadder, "I won't hold my breath," before she went inside.
Go talk to her. Just go talk to her. Or tell her you don't want to talk about it, and talk about something else. Or tell her you don't want to talk at all, and work beside her instead. Just stay with her. Show her you won't run. That you're making progress. That she can count on you.
He stared at that closed door for at least ten minutes. Then he walked away.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I called Rose right after I checked that Gabriel's keys were indeed in his jacket pocket. I told her I'd accidentally pulled him into a vision of another Gwynn, and it had been a bad one, and if he came over, he just needed a place to sleep. I didn't ask her not to question him or pressure him to talk. She knew better. I was the one who couldn't learn that particular lesson.
For the next hour, I did record searches on other cases. Busywork to keep my mind off what had happened. Resist the urge to call Rose and ask if he'd gotten there okay. Resist the urge to walk to her house on some pretense, in hopes of some sign that things between us were all right, that he just needed a little time.
When Rose called at midnight, I grabbed the phone before the second ring.
"He didn't come," she said.
I hurried to the front window. "His car's still here. Maybe he went to my apartment?"
"I checked. I gave him time to walk it off, but it's been too long for that."
"I'll find him and call you back."
I pocketed the phone and hurried to the back door. I was scooping up my shoes when I saw Gabriel in the garden, sitting on the ground, leaning back against the bench, blankets over his lap.
I tugged on my shoes and went out. I was sure he'd fallen asleep, but when I drew near, I could see his eyes were open. He just sat there, staring at the empty fishpond, hair tumbled over his forehead, not glancing up as I approached. Deeply lost in his thoughts.
I crouched beside him and said, "It's cold. Come inside," and he gave a start. Then he saw me, his gaze still unfocused. I waited for him to say no, he'd go to Rose's. Or that he wanted his keys back. But when I told him to come in again, he only rose and followed.
--
I woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast and found Gabriel in my kitchen, cooking eggs. I didn't say a word. Just walked in and sat at the table, and he poured me a coffee, and a minute later breakfast followed, my eggs done exactly as I liked them, toast made from Larry's rye bread and topped with Veronica's raspberry jam. Even my bacon was cooked exactly right.