My problems? Nothing compared to the load he was carrying.
I followed him out of the building and unlocked the doors to my car. It was weird, seeing the other side of him and knowing he was choosing to still wear his mask.
I imagined it was like finding out who Superman really was one day only to see him try to pull the wool over your eyes the next day.
But my memory? It was perfect. And I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over the look on Gabe’s face when he was playing — pouring his soul out onto the piano. He may as well have slit open his wrists and let the blood trickle out of his body as he pounded each note.
Watching Gabe perform such a normal task as buckling his seatbelt was almost unnerving. I wasn’t really sure how he was able to function with all that guilt on his shoulders.
“What?” His eyes flashed.
Caught. I’d been caught staring.
I shoved the key in the ignition. “Nothing, sorry. Just tired I think.”
“You don’t have to go to the party.”
You. Not us. But you. As in he didn’t want me to go or would be totall
y fine with me staying at home and napping like a senior citizen.
“No.” I pulled out of the parking spot. “I think I should. After all, Wes didn’t really give me a choice.”
Gabe fumbled with the heat. “Yeah, he’s intense like that.”
“How did you and Wes meet?”
Gabe’s hand froze midair before he pulled it back and crossed his arms. “Kiersten was Lisa’s roommate. I’m Lisa’s… cousin. Remember?” He rolled his eyes. “So I met him through Kiersten and the rest is kind of history.”
“Through Kiersten,” I repeated, the wheels in my head turning.
“Stop.” Gabe growled. “It wasn’t like that with her — it hasn’t been like that with anyone.”
My heart dropped to my knees as my lower lip threatened to quiver out of control.
“Until you,” he said it so softly I almost didn’t hear it.
I chose not to speak the rest of the way to the restaurant, because I didn’t trust myself, and — thankfully — Gabe didn’t ask any questions.
Maybe it was one of those understandings… Too many questions had been asked; too many answers given. A person can only handle so much, and I was officially past my limit.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sometimes I wonder if we ever truly let anyone completely in. The desire for another human being to know you, all of you, all the pieces, even the ones you’re ashamed of — is huge. But too often, we sit down and sort through the pieces only picking out the pretty ones, leaving the ugly ones behind, not realizing that choosing not to share with someone else is like committing a crime against our very soul — for how can we ever be free? When we purposefully place what we struggle with the most — in the dark? —Wes M.
Gabe
She knew.
She knew.
She knew.
Wasn’t I supposed to feel lighthearted now that Saylor saw just a glimpse of my reality? Instead, the urge to tell her everything, to cut open my own beating heart and slam it down on the table for her to fix — to mend — was so intense, it was staggering.
Finding it hard to breathe, I’d barely managed to make it to the restaurant without breaking down in the car. How was she able to carry on as though nothing had changed? How was she able to act like what I’d just shared with her was nothing out of the ordinary? A normal person would be freaking the hell out.
So either she wasn’t normal—