I ran to him and folded him into my arms. He wrapped himself around me, burying his head in my shoulder. I’d never seen him cry. The only signs he ever gave me of being vulnerable were when he would put his hands in his pockets or look away from me, palming his neck. This was the broken boy below the man who took over companies and left men like Bradman shaking in their shoes. The side I suspected he only allowed me to see.
I held him as he clung to me. How long had he held his emotions in? How many years had it been building? Long enough to burrow so far into him that it never escaped. Until now.
Cradling his head, I murmured, “It’s okay.”
“I just wanted his love,” he said, the words fractured by the sputtering sobs. “And my mother back.”
My heart splintered, and I hugged him tighter. I couldn’t fathom what he’d gone through because my childhood had been ideal. Other than my mother’s battle with breast cancer, there had been nothing but happy memories.
My father had been doting and protective, my mother loving and present, their relationship one I’d idolized. They laughed together, joked, and played. There was never tension, never a raised voice unless it was behind closed doors where it didn’t affect us.
All things Gabe never had. His mother had loved him, but her depression had stolen her from him. Perhaps his father had played a role in that, or perhaps his father had taken the blame in Gabe’s mind. Based on all he had done to Gabe, it was no wonder.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I told him, soothing my hand over his head. “It’s your choice, and I made that clear.” I pulled him further into my hold, where he remained, his face hidden in my neck, his arms clinging to me. I lifted his head, seeing the tears as he looked away from me. Rubbing them away with my fingers, I forced his eyes to me. “But maybe it’s time for you to heal. Whether it’s with him in your life or not. You’ve held onto this pain for too long, Gabe.”
He sniffed, giving me a nod before he released me and wiped his eyes with his arm. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. I love you, and that means I love every part of you. The wounded boy, the intense man. The strength and the tears. This doesn’t make you weak, Gabe.”
He glanced away again, but I put my hands on his cheeks and brought his sight back to me. “It doesn’t, and that you trust me enough to let me see the pain shows me how much you love me.”
“I do. More than anything in the world.”
“I know.”
He inhaled and let out a ragged breath. “I don’t know what to do, Tori. What’s my next step?”
“What does your heart say?” I asked, placing my hand on his chest.
“To follow your lead because I trust you, and if you think this is what I need, then I’ll try.”
“And if you fail, then you walk away. I won’t judge you, and I won’t look at you any differently.”
He brushed a lock of my hair back, the intensity returning to his eyes. “I know you won’t.”
“I told him he could start with a Christmas present to Reid if and only if you agreed.”
He tilted his head and gave me a small smile. “You know how to hit him hard. That man never bought us presents. My mother always did Christmas, and it stopped the year she died. He never gave us anything after that.”
But a trust fund and a company he would have handed to Gabe if Gabe hadn’t stolen it from his father first. But I said nothing even when I had my suspicions that there was more to his father than he thought. Nothing excused the violence and the abuse, but maybe it would help with reconciliation.
“Then maybe this will be the first test.”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll text him your answer.”
A brow lift and, “You have my father’s phone number?”
I shrugged. “He texted me to see if you’d decided, so now I have it. I’m not sure where he got mine from.”
“My father has his ways.”
Amber eyes studied me until he touched his forehead to mine. “I love you, Tori. I’m sorry I walked out. You took me by surprise, and I needed time to think. To contemplate letting that man back into my life. I thought I was done the day I bought the company from him. Washed my hands of him, but it seems I can’t escape him or the things he did to me. As much as I hate him, he’s my father, and he never let us want for anything but his love.”
“The most important thing.”
“Yes, but it made me into who I am today. For better or worse.”
