First Came You (Fate #0.5)

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First Came You (Fate #0.5) Page 7

by Faith Andrews


  Blanching at his touch, I jump off him, unwilling to let this go where I used to pray it would. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Straightening himself and readjusting his pants to hide his obvious excitement, he clears his throat. “No apologies. I understand. We’ve been through this. And besides, I want to give you your gift.”

  Phew! I’m sure that would have led to another long, in-depth conversation about feelings, so I’m more than glad he changed the subject. Not to mention, I’m a little intrigued by this gift.

  Plopping down next to him, banishing my untimely raging hormones far away, I stare at the red velvet box in his hands. It’s too large to be a ring—thank god—but too small to be anything but a piece of jewelry.

  My eyes dart from the box to Tommy’s face. His smile is so bright it seeps into my marrow, thawing away the icy walls I’ve started to build around my heart since losing my parents. Again, I’m guilty for allowing those walls to prevent the one I love most inside.

  “Well, open it, already,” he blurts, shoving the box in my hands.

  I’m nervous and giddy, my hands shaking with this unexpected surprise. “I can’t imagine what it is, Tommy. You’ve totally stumped me.”

  “Wait until you open it, then.” He winks and bites his lower lip. What’s he up to? Should I be scared?

  Careful not to ruin the intricate gold bow adorning the box, I lift off the top and stare into the plush cushioning in awe and confusion. To my surprise there is a ring—not a diamond, but a ruby, so I know it’s not any form of proposal—and next to the sparkling bauble is a key. One lone key with no indication of what door it opens.

  “The key to your heart?” I ask, tilting the box.

  “You already have that, Gabriella. Before we get to the key, what do you think of the ring?” He’s like a child, bouncing in his seat, his hands animated, his eyes gleaming.

  “The ring is gorgeous. But why? What’s it for?” I can’t say I don’t love it, but I’m not sure why I deserve it. Ruby isn’t even my birthstone, so as thankful as I am for the beautiful gift, I’m still a bit confused.

  Scooting closer to me, Tommy takes the box out of my hands. He removes the ring, lifts my left hand, and slides it on my ring finger. “The ring was my grandmother’s,” he explains, staring down at my hand. He returns his gaze to my eyes and continues, “She always told me she wanted me to have it so I could give it to someone special. I’ve wanted to give you this so many times—as a promise for our future—but together with this key . . . it just seemed right.”

  Squirming in my seat, heady from all this talk about the future, I listen to Tommy pour his heart out, unable to reciprocate. It’s not that I don’t feel the same—I do. Oh Lord, do I love him so, but talks of any kind of future when my present has been turned upside down only a few months ago—it frightens me to the core.

  “I got my own place. That’s what the key is for.”

  My eyes go wide. Is he asking me to move in with him? Surely, he has to be out of his mind. I’m sixteen. Gina would flip out. His parents would—“Your mom and dad are okay with this? No resistance? That doesn’t sound like them at all.” I realize what I’m doing and I hate myself for it. I’m changing the subject and cheapening the whole thing because I can’t deal with the weight of what he’s proposing here.

  Narrowing his eyes, Tommy inspects my face, my tensed body, my heavy breathing. Holding my hand tighter now—as if he’s afraid I’ll let go for good—his eyes bore into mine. “Yes, we argued. If you remember that fight you overheard the night before—” He stops himself, as though I don’t already live with it engrained in my memory.

  “Go on.” I urge him to continue.

  “That night, I told them I wanted to move out and get my own place. You’ve seen firsthand that my parents and I don’t see eye to eye on lots of things. I can’t stand being under their roof and following their rules anymore. I thought about dorming on campus, but I couldn’t see being further away from you. Especially now. So that’s why I picked up the extra shifts at the bank and took those summer courses. I’m going to graduate early—I’m paving a road not just for me, but for us. That’s what the ring is for—another argument with my parents, but I won that in the end too, because they see how much I love you. It’s a promise, Gabriella. We’re too young to be married and I want to do this right, at the right time, but I also can’t wait to promise you my forever. Losing your parents made me realize how quick it can all be taken away. I don’t want to wait until tomorrow because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”

  He’s so right. His words bring tears to my eyes, but the seriousness of this whole situation makes me feel like I’m being smothered all over again.

  “And the key?” I ask, trying to understand without showing him how panicked I am.

  “I don’t expect you to leave your home, or your sister. It’s just for you to have so you always know you’re welcome, what’s mine is yours, and that one day it will be ours.”

  Wow. Any girl would be reeling with excitement. The guy I’ve loved my entire life, the one I’ve been best friends with, shared my happiest and saddest times with, and given my soul to has just promised me the world in a red velvet box. I should be screaming and jumping and crying happy tears.

  But I’m not.

  “This is all too much, Tommy. I don’t know what to say.” I try to hide the fear in my voice by clearing my throat and wiping away the tears.

  Tommy reaches for me, his hand caressing my damp cheek, his eyes pleading with me to accept the happiness he wants to give me. “Just say yes. It’s all I ask.”

  Three little letters. One tiny word. Easy enough, right?

  Wrong.

  Not when everything on the other side of that yes is something I’m unsure of after morphing into this person doubtful of a blissful life. Death will do that to you. It’s a known fact. Some choose to dwell on it and let their loss control them—that’s me. Others—like Tommy—use a loss to bring things into perspective. I wish right now I were more like him. I wish I didn’t have to break his heart like this.

  “Tommy, I don’t know how to say this.” My tears won’t stop. My brain is telling me I’m crazy, but my mouth is doing all the work on its own. “This is all too much. I’m still not right. I don’t know if I’ll ever be again and that’s not fair to you.”

  Faltering at my words, Tommy releases me hand, tilting his head. “What are you saying, Gabriella?”

  Closing my eyes, because I can’t bear to look at him when I say it, I whisper, “We need a break.”

  His lids cover his beautiful blue eyes. I know I’ve disappointed him. He’s given me this wonderful gift—the gift of hope—and I’m too damaged to accept it.

  Replacing the ring in the box and putting the lid back on, I hand it to him and stand from the couch. The tears cascade down my face like a river of hurt. “I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to love you the way I want to. The way you deserve. I’m broken and even though you’re trying with all your might and your love and your selflessness to fix me, I can’t put that burden on you. I need to get right before I can promise you anything. I need to be alone.”

  With tears in his own eyes, his masculine features softened by the pain of rejection, he shakes his head. “Why are you pushing me away when you need me most? Why won’t you let me be there for you?”

  I wish I had a solid, concrete answer for him, but it’s not that clear cut. There are many reasons I’m resistant and even more reasons I know I’m making a huge mistake. But every one of them points to this moment. “I can’t be with you right now, Tommy. Please understand that I need some time. Please don’t make this any harder on me.”

  Without speaking a word, without challenging or accepting my request, Tommy stands to join me and wraps his arms around my quivering body. We cry together in each other’s arms for what seems like hours. My reluctance to let go should be a clear indicator that my heart is not ready for another
loss like this, but deep in my core I have to try to battle this loss and overcome it without someone else carrying the weight.

  And that’s where I step off course.

  Loss. The recurring theme of the last few months.

  First it was her parents—my second parents. They treated me like their own even if they had their doubts about my not-so-pure feelings towards their young daughter. Their death crushed me. I couldn’t let Gabriella see it because I had to be her rock. But my heart still clenches tight with hurt when I think about Mr. and Mrs. Rossi no longer living on this planet.

  Then came the slow and gradual loss of the girl who means more to me than anything. I watched as all happiness and joy disappeared from her life with that one single phone call. She hasn’t been the same. She’s so distant and cold. Not just to me—to Gina too. We talk about it all the time. How much we miss the old spunky, vibrant Gabby. How we worry about her. How we have to let her go through the grieving process in her own way.

  That part’s the worst because I can’t fucking stand watching her push me away. She’s dying inside—broken—and all I want to do is piece her back together. But she won’t let me. She won’t let me do what I know I can. So I bite my tongue and take my anger out on the basketball court or the boxing bag. Seeing me angry won’t send her running back into my arms.

  But tonight? This rejection is the worse loss yet.

  I’ve managed to smother her—her words—by caring for her. My selfish need to keep her close and protect her have caused her to let me go. For the first time in my life, I understand the pain of a broken heart. She’s the only girl who’s ever owned it, and without her I’m not whole.

  When I get back to my house, head hung low like a beaten dog, I toss the red box on the table and watch it skid in my father’s direction.

  “You were right. Happy?” I growl.

  Swallowing back his beer, he arches a brow. “Told you so.”

  Three words I never like hearing—especially from my smug asshole of a father. Instead of pounding my fists into his gray-bearded face, I turn my back to start off to my bedroom. I can make better use of my time by packing.

  My old man stops me with a gruff, patronizing laugh. “Boy, your need to fix things don’t work on the unfixable. She’s damaged goods. Don’t waste your time.”

  I suck in a deep breath, and tighten my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. Do not deck your father, Tommy. He’s not worth it. Turning to face him, I stare hard into his bloodshot eyes. “You don’t know shit about me and Gabriella. And I would never give up on her because she’s not a waste of anything. And maybe it seems like things are dark right now, but there’s nothing damaged about the beautiful girl she is and the incredible woman I know she’ll become.”

  He takes another pull of his beer, slamming the empty bottle down on the table. “Suit yourself. Throw your life away before it’s even begun.”

  Rushing toward the table, I get within inches of his face and growl, “Just because you’re unhappy with the way your life turned out doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me. Stay the hell out of it and save your misconstrued sense of wisdom to yourself. I’ve never needed it before and I don’t count on needing it ever again.”

  I stalk off to my room, grumbling under my breath. He’s a misery. Has been for as long as I can remember, and the fact I’m doing things he never could at my age makes him resent his own flesh and blood and the struggles of being a lesser man. And my poor mother is just a naïve victim to his shit.

  I’m over it.

  I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here. Away from their scrutiny, away from their disapproval. My parents never appreciated my passion for Gabriella and our future. They always told me I was being stupid with my heart by giving it away too soon. They didn’t want to accept that I’d found a kind of love in Gabriella and her family that I lacked here. My parents are decent people, just not loving people. The Rossi’s gave me more.

  As I toss shit haphazardly into boxes, I replay so many Gabriella memories in my head with tears burning at the back of my eyes. The beginning—when we were kids and would laugh all day while we played man hunt in the scorching summer sun. The middle—when I admired Gabriella as she grew into a beautiful girl with curves that made my mouth water and lips that made my dick think things it shouldn’t be thinking at that age. The end—is this the fucking end?

  I push that thought out of my head, promising myself, promising the love of my life, that no matter what she says this will not be the end.

  She needs time. I have to give it to her. But I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to leave her alone. The people who love her most—not these new assholes she’s getting false reconciliation from right now—are the ones who will see her through this.

  I will see her through this.

  Even if it’s from afar. As a friend. As whatever the fuck she lets me be. Either way, this is not the end of Gabriella and Tommy’s love story.

  A year and a half later

  “I won’t be home tonight. I’m sleeping at Olivia and Laura’s and we’re meeting Barbara for drinks.” New year, new school, new friends, new vices.

  “Drinks? Any place that serves drinks to minors can’t be legit.” Gina stares me down with her hand on her hips. I hate that she’s no longer my sister.

  “Okay, Mom, like you never drank at eighteen.”

  “What I did at eighteen wasn’t your responsibility. I’m in charge here and I don’t really like the shit you’ve been pulling lately. Who are these girls, anyway? I haven’t even met them and you’re sleeping over at their . . . where, exactly?”

  “Olivia and Laura are in my English Lit class. They live in Williamsburg. Nice place. Ritzy and fancy. Barb is their neighbor. A little older, fun girl. We’ve hung out a few times since classes started, but you knew that because I’ve mentioned it more than once. Do you want me to bring them here so you can give them an inquisition before we get our jollies on?”

  Tossing a warning glare my way, she scolds, “You won’t be getting any jollies on, regardless. I can’t stop you from doing the things teenagers do, but you have to be careful, Gabby. I trust you, but ever since you and Tommy . . .” She trails off to that land of disapproval that I despise.

  “Why are you bringing this up now? It’s been forever. Old news.” I brush it off like it doesn’t bother me anymore. Unfortunately, that’s a blatant lie. I haven’t stopped thinking about the day I broke his heart for one single second. I know all I have to do is ask to have him back, but I feel like such a shit for being a coward. I needed space then, I needed a breather from his overbearing love, but that space has been filled with things that only numb the pain for snippets at a time. Tommy’s love would have healed me had I let him stick around. I’m too ashamed to admit that now. And it’s too late, anyway. I think he’s moved on. I’ve seen him talking to other girls, and he’s mentioned a few dates. My chance at a happily ever after with the boy next door was shot to shit by my stupid mistakes.

  And I plan on making more of those tonight. Being a little reckless and bending the rules makes me feel alive again and I think that’s why Gina hasn’t handcuffed me to the kitchen table and grounded me until I’m thirty.

  “Can I go now? Or do you want to do a strip search first?”

  “Don’t be a wise ass, Gabby. And don’t think I’m a fool, either. I let the smoking slide, but you’ve obviously been testing the whole drinking scene and I’m getting a little leery here. The only reason I’m not stopping you is because I feel like I can trust you to set sensible limits. Which you have, as far as I can see, but the absolute minute you make me think otherwise, you can kiss the leeway goodbye.”

  She doesn’t even blink. I know she means business, but she’s been so occupied with law school, her threats are mostly idle. I’ve pulled the wool over her eyes this long, what’s one more night?

  “Okie dokie, you got it sister-mom.” I zip my overnight bag after making sure I’ve packed my favorite pai
r of black going-out pants, and then sling that and my backpack over my shoulder. “Peace out, cub scout. See you tomorrow.”

  “Call me before you go out and let me know where you’re gonna be.”

  “Mmmhmm,” I hum, rolling my eyes.

  “I love you, you know?” This time her voice isn’t stern, it’s desperate, as if her show of affection will prevent me from going down the wrong path.

  She of all people should know love ain’t gonna cure me.

  “I love you too,” I concede, planting a convincing kiss on her cheek as I walk out the door.

  Feeling a wee bit guilty for acting out and causing unnecessary drama for my loving sister, I vow to dial the rebel-on-a-mission down a notch tonight. As fun as it is to shake things up a bit, it’s not curing me either.

  “Another beer, Gabriella?” asks the guy who’s been buying me Buds and whispering sweet nothings in my ear all night.

  “Sure.” I shrug, enjoying the buzz.

  When he leaves to head to the bar, Laura hooks an arm in mine and gets really close. “That dude totally likes you, Gabby. You think you’ll hook up?”

  “If I were a magic eight ball the answer would be ‘most definitely.’ He’s a total hottie, I’d be an idiot to pass him up.” There’s no sense beating around the bush. I don’t mind the casual hook up. At least not anymore. Numb. Numb. Numb. Booze, nicotine, and strange lips. They do the trick.

  I bop my head to the bass of the music, getting lost in the beat and closing my eyes as I sing the familiar lyrics.

  Laura breaks me from my musical enjoyment with a tug at my arm. “Shots?”

  I glance over to the line at the bar. Not too long and shots sound really good. “’Kay,” I agree, standing with sudden enthusiasm.

  Once at the bar, I rejoin my beer buying suitor as Laura leans over, flashing her cleavage to get the bartender’s attention.

 

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