A surging desire to remove all his pain rises within me. “Then why are you going?”
He stares into my eyes. “I’ve been wondering why I continue. Why I do this to myself. Then I remember you. The look on your face when I opened your bedroom door that night. The weight of your body when I carried you. The relief in your eyes when I handed you over to the paramedics. You became my world.” The pad of his thumb strokes my cheek. “Every person is someone else’s world. It’s my responsibility to preserve that.”
I open my mouth to tell him none of that matters if he’s unhappy, but then he kisses me, long and slow, the kind of kiss that asks for more. We both need to go to work, but I can’t stop this. His mouth, his hands, his heart, he needs to give it all to me as much as I need to have it.
I’m wearing only my nightgown, so it’s a matter of seconds before I’m on my back on the table and he’s inside me.
Gabriel leans over, his body bent like an uppercase L. His kisses, so tender against my neck, juxtaposed with what his lower half is doing.
I love it. I love how he gives me his soul at the same time he gives me his body. This man.This man. I cling to him, wrapping my legs around his back, slipping my hands under the shirt he didn’t take off. I pretend my love can seep through my palms, soak into him and carry him into his day, providing solace to his wounded heart.
He finishes a moment after me, his lips on mine and his whisperedI love youfilling my mouth.
He kisses me once more, then helps me off the table. He waits for me while I place our dishes in the dishwasher, and we go to our bedroom to get ready for the day.
We leave together, pausing at the front of our cars. When I kiss him goodbye, I tell him, “I love you. I support you, always. I am Team Gabriel, no matter what.”
A smile curves his lips. He hasn’t smiled much lately, and I’m grateful even for this tiny one. “Who’s the opposing team?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. It could be anybody. But whoever it is, I’m on your team.”
His eyes fill with emotion. “It’s us against the world?”
I nod once. “You and me, hero.”
He smiles again, bigger this time. I think I’d do anything to see that smile. He tells me he loves me, then he leaves.
I get in my car and pause, gripping the steering wheel and filling my lungs with a deep, burning breath.
Everything will be ok. The world continues turning, and Gabriel is still Gabriel. As long as those two things remain true, everything else is extra.
SESSION TWELVE
DESERT FLOWER THERAPY
“How were things after he returned to work? Did they go back to normal?”
I nibble on the inside of my cheek. ‘Normal’ is a relative term. “He seemed ok. As ok as anyone can be, in that situation. He wasn’t as pleasant to be around.” I grind the toe of my shoe into the carpet as I think about what I’m saying. “He used to tease me a lot, in a good-natured sort of way. Flirtatious. That stopped, but it eventually started happening again. He needed a lot of time when he arrived home after a shift, like he had to transition to life outside the station. He didn’t tell me that’s what was happening, but it’s what it looked like from the outside.”
“And the alcohol?”
My lower lip trembles. “I’d thought we’d escaped with just those two instances of Gabriel drinking. I was stupid.”
Dr. Ruben grimaces. “It became a common occurrence?”
“Yes.” My hands form fists, and I press them into my thighs. “I participated, at first. It was kind ofif you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.” Derision sharpens my tone. “I didn’t know what else to do, and I thought it was better than him drinking alone.” My gaze falls sideways. I can’t look Dr. Ruben in the eye. “I kept tellingmyself it was a season. That it would pass. It was the grief. But it was every night when he wasn’t working. I began finding him passed out in odd places. The backyard. In his truck in the driveway, with the door wide open.” A sting of betrayal hits my heart. Am I betraying Gabriel by admitting these things?
“How did he treat you when he was drinking?”
My head shakes quickly, racing ahead of my words to dispel the real question behind Dr. Ruben’s query. “Gabriel never hurt me.”
Dr. Ruben makes a face, but schools it immediately.
“He didn’t,” I insist.
“People can hurt one another in different ways.” Dr. Ruben spins his gold ring in one complete revolution. “You said you drank with him, at first?”
“It made me feel awful, so I stopped.”
