by Jody Holford
“Uh…Mom, I don’t want to give Gabby that.” She could hear in the pitch of his voice that he was trying to be polite.
The balloon popped, painfully, sending arrows of pain at her heart. Of course not. It was too soon. One heavy make-out session did not equate a proposal. They hadn’t even been on a real date, so his answer was logical. Why did logic hurt so badly?
“Owen, it’s a family ring. It’s beautiful.”
Gabby knew from his tone, he was tamping down on irritation. “Drop it, Mom. Come on, let’s get back.”
Gabby inched her way toward the door, holding her breath. She needed to go. She didn’t need to hear this. She wasn’t meant to hear this.
“No, I will not drop it. You love that girl; I can see it. And she loves you. Now take the ring.”
She had her hand on the doorknob when her stomach dropped out from under her.
“Mom, knock it off, please. I don’t need your help with my relationships and there’s no chance in hell I would give Gabby the ring. Now drop it. Please.”
Gabby’s vision blurred but she managed to get the door open soundlessly. Not waiting for it to shut behind her, she moved down the hallway as quick as her unsteady feet would take her. She couldn’t breathe. She was trying, but the air wouldn’t fill her lungs. She pushed open the door to the stairwell, welcoming the cooler air. Cement stairs went up one way and down the other. Gabby collapsed onto the closest one. Stop. Stop panicking. It means nothing. She wouldn’t let a conversation she wasn’t meant to hear rip her apart. She might be the artsy one, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t apply logic to a situation. Which means not jumping to conclusions. Still, her eyes burned like she might cry. No crying. Don’t wreck this. They couldn’t wreck it. They’d promised. She needed to get herself together. She couldn’t do this now. Another door opened and closed and footsteps echoed around her. Please don’t be Owen. Please.
Wyatt was taking two stairs at a time. When he rounded the stair rail, he stopped, looked down at Gabby, and his lips tilted farther down.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
Gabby huffed out a far-from-humorous laugh. “A lot, apparently. Nothing for you to be concerned about. Weren’t you just in the lobby with everyone else?” She blinked away the wetness in her eyes.
“Weren’t you?”
Gabby shook her head. “Never mind.” She stood, and even on the step, she was barely eye level with him.
His mouth shifted into a flat line. For him, it was almost a smile. “Are you okay?”
Gabby parted her lips, surprised by the softness of his voice. Instead of answering, she just nodded.
“Then why are you sitting in a stairwell crying?”
Because I’m an idiot. No. Don’t think like that. If she let go of her hope, she’d lose it. She’d curl into a ball and drown herself in tears. Straightening her shoulders, she replied, “I’m not crying,” before another thought occurred to her, making her throat tighten. “Why are you in the stairwell?”
He pursed his lips. “Exercise,” he said.
Gabby rolled her eyes. “Right. Me too. I have to go…somewhere.” Anywhere but here.
She’d taken a step away when he said her name. It sounded foreign coming from his lips.
He turned, gave her another almost smile. “If you need someone to kick your boyfriend’s ass, I could arrange it.”
She couldn’t decide if the offer was sweet or scary. “Not this time,” she said and turned to go just in case the tears wanted to make an appearance in front of her always-grumpy-sometimes-sweet-possibly-mob-connected neighbor.
I’ll be okay… It’ll be okay.
Hurrying down the stairs, she tried to think of what she could do to give herself time to reattach her game face. Continuing down until she reached the basement, she exited the stairwell and leaned against the wall. She wouldn’t assume the worst; she could control that. Her breathing, however, took more effort to get a grip on. You get five minutes and then you pull yourself together. It’s Christmas. It’ll be okay. She wished with everything in her that she wasn’t telling herself another lie.
Chapter Fourteen
“Well, there’s absolutely no reason to be rude, Owen. I’m still your mother,” Beth said.
Her tone made him cringe. He’d just gotten his head wrapped around the fact that he wanted to see Gabriella Michaelson naked—really soon—and now his mom was pushing his grandma’s ugly-ass ring on him. Talk about Mach speed. Though, oddly enough, the thought of giving Gabby a ring didn’t seem as crazy as it would have even a week ago. He tried to rein in his ping-ponging thoughts.
“I’m sorry. Look, I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But that ring isn’t for Gabby. She’s unique and different and she should have a ring that reflects that. Besides,” he said, lowering his voice, “Grandma Shelly was married four times. Her first engagement ring doesn’t exactly inspire confidence.” He really shouldn’t have lied to them. Now he was leading his mother to believe he planned to propose with a different ring and he hadn’t even spoken his feelings out loud yet. To himself or to Gabby. She was right: one lie led to another.
His mother started to argue, but really, what could she say? She stared at the simple diamond ring and then slipped it into her pocket with a sigh.
“Fine. But I still think it would be nice to give it to her on Christmas morning. You could always tell her it’s a place holder until you get the one you imagined for her,” Beth suggested.
Owen couldn’t put into words, not to his mother, what he imagined with Gabby. He’d always imagined her in his future, but now he was beginning to feel like she was his future. He’d already dug himself a ditch of half-truths and Gabby deserved more. He needed to tell her that he wanted what they were pretending to be the real thing, to see where they could take things. Life was too short and he didn’t want to waste it. He’d already done too much of that.
Standing this close to his mom, he could see the signs of her aging, and it reminded him that he spent too much time worrying about things that just didn’t matter. He’d avoided his family this Christmas because it meant a few days of craziness. He’d do better. He’d change. If he was going to ask Gabby to accept the harder parts of him, he could…but she didn’t want him to change. She wanted him as he was. Still, it didn’t mean he couldn’t adjust, starting with setting things right. How could he ask for more and tell her how he felt when what he’d asked of her this week went against something that mattered so much to her: honesty.
“Come on,” Owen said, impatient to be with Gabby.
“What about my idea for Christmas morning?”
He sighed. “What about it?”
His mom gave him another don’t-you-use-that-tone look. “It’s a good idea, and you’ve left us out of enough things in your life. Why can’t we watch?”
Guilt tugged at the corners of his heart. Why the hell had he left them out of so much?
“We won’t say a word. We’ll just watch and then celebrate with you,” Beth said, squeezing her hands together.
Right. Because they don’t believe in breathing room. Though maybe he’d given himself too much space. It was unfair to them, and he was missing out on moments he’d never get back, moments Gabby would do anything to have with her own family. It was one more thing he could give her.
Owen pulled his mom into a hug. She wanted what was best for him. “Mom. I love you, but you have to let me do this my way. I’m not proposing to Gabby in front of you guys. It isn’t her and, quite honestly, it isn’t me.” He couldn’t imagine declaring his feelings in front of people. Not that he was ashamed of them—hell, he kind of wanted to shout them out, but there was something intimate and genuine about quietly sharing his feelings with Gabby. Just the two of them.
His mom sniffled and his stomach twisted. He didn’t want the women in his life to cry because of him. “Well, don’t wait forever to do it,” she said. “I’d like to actually be able to hold some grandbabies before my arms
are too frail to stand the weight.”
Owen chuckled. If he didn’t have to live with the drama, it was a bit easier to make light of it. He guided his mom toward the door, which was ajar. Owen stared at it for a second before answering her. “You know, Ophelia is older than me. It seems like you should be nagging her.”
His mother swatted him on the arm as she walked past him. Inside his apartment, Ophelia was helping Aunt Patty at the table while his dad argued with the TV.
“Hey. Where’s Gabby?”
His dad didn’t look up. “She’s with you.”
Owen waited. His dad looked over at him. “Isn’t she with you?”
“No. This is your wife. Not Gabby.”
His mom swatted him again. “Don’t smart-mouth your dad. He’s still—”
“My father. Right. Sorry. Seriously, where’s Gabby?”
“She went over to her apartment about ten minutes ago. No way could you have missed her,” Patty said. She rolled cookies out on his dining room table and the scent of ginger and cinnamon flavored the air.
Unease tickled the back of Owen’s neck. Gabby wasn’t at her place. There actually was no way he could have missed her…if she’d come all the way in. If she hadn’t; if she’d only come part way in and left in a hurry, the door might not have closed behind her, which would have left it open just a bit… Like it had been.
“Shit.”
Beth tsked. “Language, Owen.”
“What’s wrong?” Ophelia asked. She twisted her hair up as she spoke and walked over to him. “You okay? You’re pale.”
“Gabby came over to her apartment?”
“Didn’t Aunt Patty just tell you that? I was in the shower.”
“What’s the matter, Owen?” His mother was stowing the ring back in her purse.
“If Gabby came to the apartment and we didn’t hear her, she heard us talking about the ring.”
“What? What ring?” Ophelia’s voice rose into an octave that made Owen’s ears burn.
“You’re proposing?” Patty squealed.
His dad laughed and pulled himself up off the couch. “Well, way to go, son. Gotta say, I wondered if you’d ever make it happen, but I see why you waited. One heck of a girl you’ve got yourself. Definitely worth the wait.”
Owen’s stomach heaved. “No. Stop. I’m not proposing. This isn’t… no. No. I have to find Gabby. Order dinner. There’s a take-out menu on the fridge. Eat without me.”
He didn’t wait for them to say anything more, but he heard them asking questions as he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed out the door. She wasn’t at her place. Where would she go?
His heart worked overtime as he waited for the elevator, and when it didn’t come fast enough, he took the stairs. He was reaching the second floor, his feet racing down the steps, when he heard angry voices. Coming to a halt, he saw the rough-looking, always-scowling neighbor he didn’t want Gabby anywhere near. Wyatt. She’d said his name was Wyatt. He was holding Jake against the wall by the collar of his shirt. Jake’s face was white and his hands gripped the arms of the bigger man.
“If I find out it was you, I will personally kick the crap out of you. Got that?” His moody neighbor chose that moment to shove Jake and turn around. He didn’t look sorry, or particularly pleased, when he saw Owen.
“Everything okay here, guys?” Owen clenched his fists. He didn’t need this right now. His keys dug into the palm of his hand.
“Just fine. As long as our apartment manager keeps his hands off people’s belongings, everything will stay that way.”
Owen glared at Jake, putting two and two together. “Seriously, man? You’re the one who broke into the mailboxes and the storage room?”
Jake straightened his T-shirt and made a show of smoothing it out. He sneered. “I didn’t actually get into the mailboxes. Someone took something of mine. Someone in this building. Don’t see why I can’t find out who.”
Wyatt nearly growled. “For one thing, you moron, it’s a goddamn federal offense to tamper with mailboxes.”
Owen looked back and forth between them. “He’s right. And besides that, what the hell is next? You can’t find what you’re looking for, you going to break into our homes next?”
“No!” Jake had the gall to look offended.
“No. He’s not. Because he’s going to give his resignation or I’m going to turn him in to the cops.”
Jake’s eyes widened and sounds, but no words, sputtered from his mouth.
His neighbor wasn’t friendly and he seemed to have his eyes on Gabby way too often for Owen’s taste, but he’d just scored some major points. Owen stuck out his hand. “Owen.”
Moody eyed his hand before sighing and shaking Owen’s. “Wyatt.”
“Nice to meet you. I think.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“Dude, you aren’t serious, are you?” Jake wasn’t just pale now, he was almost translucent.
Wyatt straightened his shoulders and took a step toward him. “You have until the day after Christmas to give your notice or I will tell the cops it was you and you will be charged. At the least, you’ll be fined, but I’ll see to it that you get locked up. Especially if I can prove what it was I think you were looking for.”
Jake shrunk back. “What about until then?”
Wyatt put his hands on his hips and arched an eyebrow at Jake. “You’re stupid, but I’m guessing you’re not stupid enough to try anything in that time?”
“Whatever, man. I hate this building anyway. Goddamn waste of my time and talent.”
Jake threw open the door leading to the hallway and went through it. Owen looked back at Wyatt, who stood a couple inches taller than him.
“How can you be so sure the cops will take your word for it?”
“Let’s just say I have friends in high places,” Wyatt said. “Speaking of friends, you should encourage your girlfriend to pick better ones than that douche. She’s too nice to everyone.”
“Jesus. Gabby. I need to find Gabby,” Owen said, nearly jolting forward. He hated the thought of her feelings being hurt. Why had she run? Why not just talk to him? He tried to remember exactly what he’d said.
Wyatt’s body language changed, became more alert. “You the reason she was sitting on the stairs in tears?”
Owen’s stomach dropped like a cable car cut loose. “You saw her? Wait. She was crying?” He’d made her cry. His gut cramped. He was supposed to dry her tears, not cause them.
Wyatt nodded, giving nothing away with the hard glare of his eyes or the deep frown he always wore. “About fifteen minutes ago. You screw up?”
Owen didn’t answer because he wasn’t entirely sure, so Wyatt continued, casually, like they were talking about the Red Sox. “Told her I’d kick your ass if she needed.”
“If I don’t clear things up, I might just let you,” Owen said. If he didn’t fix things with Gabby, nothing would hurt in comparison.
Wyatt’s arms flexed when he crossed them over his wide chest. Owen winced. Almost nothing. “She took the stairs down,” Wyatt said.
Owen stared at him a moment longer, then nodded. “Thanks.” He didn’t wait for a reply but took off down the stairs, intent on reaching the parking garage and his truck. He flung the final door open and almost rammed right into her. She was holding rolls of wrapping paper. Her eyes were shiny, but no tears marred her cheeks. His heart raced like he’d been running up the stairs instead of down.
“Owen,” she said, her step halting. Blinking at him, she stayed rooted to a spot in the dim hallway that felt entirely too far away. He closed the distance between them and crushed her against his chest.
“I thought you’d left,” he said against her hair.
She shifted, the wrapping paper crinkling between them. “Where would I go?” He hoped he was imagining the tinge of sadness in her tone. He wanted to give her happiness. Always. Which meant he needed to fix things and make them right.
Pushing away from him, she g
ave a small laugh that sounded nothing like the one that made his blood rush. “What are you doing down here?” she asked.
“Looking for you. My dad said you’d gone over to your place,” Owen replied. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from dragging her close again. He needed to know how bad the damage was before he could start unraveling it and piecing them back together. He’d never get over it if he ruined things between them.
“I did, but I heard your voice. And your mom’s. Sounded like you were arguing and I didn’t want to interrupt.” She held up the wrapping paper. “And I needed more of this.”
She didn’t blink and he wondered if maybe she hadn’t heard. “Arguing?” He waited to see if she’d elaborate.
Gabby shrugged. “Yeah. Sounded like it. You seemed frustrated. Is everything okay?”
Owen studied Gabby and thought of how precious she was to him. Looking at her now, he realized she was like air to him. Necessary. Without her, he literally wouldn’t be able to breathe. “Everything is fine. You’re sure you didn’t overhear anything?”
Another weak laugh and her eyes went to the carpet. “No.” She looked up, met his gaze. “Was there something you didn’t want me to hear?”
Owen’s heart felt like it was pumping too hard. “My mom was just being pushy. I worried maybe you overheard and I didn’t want you to misunderstand.”
Like a veil coming over her features, she hid her thoughts from him. He hated when he couldn’t read her face. If she were mad, he’d apologize. Hurt, he’d beg forgiveness. He just needed to know what to do.
She stepped around him, started for the stairs. “Your parents love you. What you see as pushy might be them wanting to be part of your life. Let them in a little and maybe they’ll surprise you.”
He followed behind her and her words sunk in. Let them in. He needed to tell them the truth. That was the only way to really start a life with Gabby. When they reached the first landing, he put a hand on her arm. Unable to resist, he leaned down and kissed her, nearly sighing in relief when her mouth opened under his.
Pulling back, he tucked a curl behind her ear. The desire to be with her, to hold her close, to breathe only air they shared was almost overwhelming. Humbling. “Gabby. I would never hurt you. Not for anything.” But was that a lie, too? Because he already had. She said she hadn’t overheard, but something was wrong. Not for a second did he believe she’d lie to him about something important. Or anything at all. But what else could it be? He felt it and he could see it. He knew her. If she hadn’t overheard, then it had to be the lying. It was taking its toll. This was a hard time of year for her anyway, and he’d compounded it by asking so much of her. But what if he hadn’t? He would have missed all this. That made it hard to regret entirely, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t right a wrong.