At no point does he leave me and I know he's always there. Even when my throat turns raw and I can’t hear him anymore, I know his arms are wrapped around me, cradling me to his chest.
His mouth seals to mine as I fade, his hips jerking as he fills me, hot and thick to the brim.
Gabe whispers words I know he shouldn’t even as my mind refuses to recognize them.
And I think I say them back.
Gabe’s bathis as warm and comfy in the sunlight as it was in the starlight. He has a collection of scented oils that I doubt are forhim, and his tub is oversized to fit him which means I fit there too.
His arms wrap around me as he pours oil through my hair and combs it out. “Merry Christmas, sweetness.”
“Merry… it is?” I count the days in my head. “Oh, my God. It is.”
He shushes me when I try to sit up, counting my days out a second time. The head massage he offers drops me back into a semi-awake state, and he resumes combing my curls.
“How do you know what to do?” I ask drowsily.
The scented water soothes my body, the aches we’ve created, the way he’s reformed me. It’s not just physical. I’ve changed inside and out. I know that even if my mind struggles to accept that fact in such a short period of time.
“I didn’t always live alone, Elena.” Gabe pauses in his combing. “You’re not the only one who tried to have a family.”
I grip his thigh and twist. That creates a whole new world of aches as water sloshes around us but I ignore them. “Before?”
He seems to get what I'm not saying. “Yeah.” He winds my curls through the rake comb and continues to tug it through my hair in the same gentle method he used before I interrupted his rhythm. “Before I was deployed that time, I had a partner. She was pregnant.” his voice rasps.
“Gabe,” I whisper.
“I didn’t come home when we planned. Shit went sideways. My deployment was a lot longer than expected because my operation overseas turned into a war camp rescue that ended in my best friend and a whole lot of other men I loved dying. I brought him home. When I came back, she wasn’t there." He shrugs, still combing my hair with steady hands. “She’d given up, moved on. Decided I wasn’t coming back. My little girl is being raised by another man. I’m not allowed to see her based onmy psych evaluation afterwards and a court who never met me in my absence.”
“Jesus.” I lean into him, pressing my body to his. I have no idea what I’m doing apart from offering up any spec of warmth that I possibly can. “That’s— it’s not fair,” I whisper.
His mouth crooks into a smile, and his hands hold me without a single tremor. “I killed a man for a woman I met three days ago without a second’s thought. Then I told you that you can never leave. Perhaps they were right, sweetness.”
I stare at him. “I feel like I’m supposed to say something supportive. That you should be able to get your girl back.”
He shrugs again. “One day, if she wants, maybe she can find me. But I’m not a safe man, Elena. You shouldn’t be here.” His face hardens as he pulls me closer to him. “You do know that, don’t you?”
I lean into him. “I cooked for you.”
He stills. “You said that before.”
My heart beats faster. “When you were…away,” I say carefully. “I cried. I screamed. I ranted and raved and kicked things. I don’t think I broke anything apart from my sanity a few times. And I drank a lot of coffee,” I admit. “It’s good coffee.”
“It is.”
“And then I did what I do when I care about someone or I’m happy or comfortable. I cooked.”
He watches me. “Were you happy and comfortable after screaming your heart out when I locked you in here, sweetness?”
I return his study. “Yes.”
Gabe blinks.
“Up here, it’s quiet. Beautiful. Peaceful. I could think. And when I can think, I create. So I did.”
His mouth twitches beneath his beard. “I have a refrigerator full of meals, do I?”
I laugh at him. “Do I look like a girl who cooks meals, Mister Decker? You have three berry pies, a pudding, because I found a mix and I could—shush. Let me finish. A beehive cake, a strawberry gateau and a honey sponge cake. Oh, and a coffee roll but that’s gone because I also comfort eat when I’m sad.” I finish my list and offer him a happy smile.
