Gabe sighed, his face darkened. “The minute she became what she is now, her parents bailed. They couldn’t handle it. It was too hard, and they signed over guardianship to me. I have power of attorney, everything. We belong together. As if we’d actually gotten married.”
Mike nodded. “Yet you never wed?”
“No.” Gabe licked his lips. “We never did, but I took care of her — take care of her — as if I made those vows, even though I tried really hard to be something I wasn’t.”
“Meaning?”
“My escape was creating a new identity. I thought it would be easier. When I came to the Home I was just Ashton. When I went to college, I was Gabe, a completely different version of myself. I thought… I thought separating the two would make it less painful.”
“Did it?” Mike leaned forward. “Did it make it less painful?”
“No.” Gabe exhaled. “If anything, it made it worse, because Gabe fell in love with a girl too.” His eyes met mine. “But he shares a heart with Ashton, and Ashton’s heart will always be in limbo — waiting for his princess to either wake up or go to sleep.”
You could hear a pin drop in that room.
Lisa gripped my hand while Kiersten wrapped her arm around me. Gabe was already starting to sink lower into his chair. Emotionally, he was done.
“Let’s talk about your father.” Mike began, “What’s this business about your parents wanting you home? What’s the truth?”
“My father wants what used to be his cash cow…” Gabe shrugged. “Had he offered me love, acceptance, understanding, I would never have been put in the position I am now. I begged him to leave me in peace. Instead, he threatened the well-being of those I love the most. So that’s why I’m here, giving this interview. He can say whatever he wants, but I want my fans, my family, my friends, to know the truth. I never left them because I hated them, I didn’t lie because I wanted to. I did it because at the time, I didn’t see any other choice. And every single one of my choices was made because of her.”
“True love.” Mike nodded his approval and smiled warmly. “It sounds like true love.”
“Yeah.”
“Ashton, anything else you want to say to your fans?”
“Thank you.” Gabe’s voice dropped. “For understanding.”
“Alright, that’s it.” Mike waved at the camera crew while someone stood up and grabbed the microphone from Gabe.
Everyone started packing up while Wes approached Gabe and pulled him in for a tight hug then handed him a phone.
Gabe dialed a number, then held the phone to his ear, face tight. He looked ready to unleash on someone.
“Yeah, you wanted me parading in front of the media? You got it. I suggest you watch Mike’s show tonight. Should be on around six,” he ground out. “And when you do, just know I did it all for you, you sick son of a bitch.” He sliced the air with his hand and started pacing back and forth. “Shut up and listen, old man, because I’m saying this once. You and me are done. You can’t hurt any of us anymore, and you and your sorry ass are going to fade into the pit of hell where you belong or I will hunt you down… and kill you.”
He listened, but I couldn't tell what his dad was saying because Gabe's expression never changed. And then he cracked a smile. “You finished?” He waited a brief moment then nodded. “Good. Because those are the last words you will ever say to me, you money-hungry, piece-of-shit bastard.” He stabbed the end button on the phone and looked like he was about to throw it when Wes intervened and grabbed it out of his hands.
The silence was broken by Wes chuckling. “If ever there was a time when a person needed a drink — now’s that time.”
“Here, here.” Gabe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but when he looked at me, I could tell some of that weight was beginning to fall off.
I just hoped that by the time my surprise happened, he would be receptive and not angry that I’d overstepped my boundaries.
“Whiskey.” Wes pointed us toward the door. “It’s time for whiskey.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
If God meant for us to carry baggage around, he would have made our skin have little pouches like kangaroos. Or maybe he would have just made it so that each and every one of us were born with huge- ass shoulders to carry the load. Clearly, we weren’t made to carry the weight of the world, kinda makes you wonder why we do it anyway, huh? —Wes M.
Gabe
For the first time since Wes punched me, I drank. I didn’t drink a ton, because I wasn’t optimistic that my body would actually forget the trauma of that day, let alone my mind.
When Wes drove the car toward the dorms I asked him to turn around and drive me to the house instead.
Saylor offered to stay with me.