His lips remain on my skin, but his gaze finds mine. “Because they’re on you.”
The love I feel from Gabriel opens up a floodgate, and everything rushes forward. What I’ve been missing my whole life is suddenly right in front of me. I need only to reach for it.
So I do.
SESSION SIX
DESERT FLOWER THERAPY
“You fell in love quickly.” Dr. Ruben’s head tips sideways as he speaks, like he’s making a query. He’s not. I like how he can make a statement based solely off my retelling.
“With Gabriel, it was painless. No obstacles. He was so damn easy to love.” I stare at the tiny flecks of brown in the cream carpeting, then look up. “He was pretty much perfect.”
Dr. Ruben raises his eyebrows at me. I wonder if he treats all his patients with a casual familiarity, or if it is just because I once occupied the same role. “Nobody is perfect.”
I blink twice, exasperated.
He shrugs. “Trite, but true. Why did you think he was perfect?”
“He was exceptionally kind. Empathetic. Not everyone is emotionally intelligent, but he was. He was patient. Funny, but not too silly. Sensitive, but still masculine.” Goose bumps dot my legs at my description of him.
Dr. Ruben dips his head, making a show out of pretending to acquiesce. “Sounds perfect. When did you realize he had a flaw?”
“The night I met his mother.”
CHAPTER 9
I’m meetingGabriel’s parents tonight.
For weeks we’ve been trying to come up with a night where everyone was free, but it was difficult with Gabriel and his dad, Doug’s, schedules.
But here we are. Three months into our relationship and I’m finally meeting his parents. My dad insisted on meeting Gabriel within the first week of us dating, so he could thank the man who saved his daughter’s life.
Gabriel spends the last few minutes of the drive coaching me on his mom. “She’ll be friendly, but she’s…” He pauses, carefully choosing his words. “Critical.” He scrunches his nose when he says it, like maybe that’s not the best fit descriptor.
I nod to show him I’m not fazed. Birth order was covered in my Family Communication class. I’m expecting critical, overprotective parenting, maybe even a side of ‘nobody is good enough for my Gabriel’ vibes.
Reaching over, I rub his arm to reassure him. “Par for the course with an only child.”
Gabriel pulls into the driveway of an older model single story home. The lawn is mostly landscaping rock, with a hedge ofwhite oleander on the far side. He cuts the engine and turns to me. “About that.” His eyes hold genuine concern. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I wasn’t always an only child.”
I flinch in surprise at his admission. “You had a sibling?”
“I had an older brother. Nash.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. “He had a heart condition nobody knew about, and died of a heart attack when he was twenty.”
The look on Gabriel’s face sets a burning to the backs of my eyes. I lean over the console, placing my hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He watches my fingers drift over his skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I hate talking about it. I was there when it happened, and I relive it every time I talk about it.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that. I understand.” He looks up, and I offer an encouraging smile. “Thank you for sharing with me.”
“I’ve wanted to for a while, but it’s difficult to talk about.” His gaze travels over my face. “I’m glad I did, though.” The relief in Gabriel’s expression twists my heart. He glances at the large window in the front of the house. “We’d better go in. I’m sure my mom has noticed we’re sitting out here.”
I let go of him and gather my purse from the floorboard, forcing gusto into my tone. “Let’s do it.”
Gabriel says my name. I turn back, a question in my eyes.
He taps a knuckle on the steering wheel. “Promise me something.”
