Jane felt her breath catch. She stared at him with widening eyes.
“There’s a Physical Evaluation Board review coming up,” Gabe continued, his voice steady, but Jane could hear the strainbeneath it. “PEB. They’re determining if I can return to active duty.”
Jane waited. She knew there was more to the story. Could see it in the way he was choosing his words so carefully. He was not telling her everything, but he was telling her what he could.
“The mission was a hostage rescue,” Gabe said finally, his voice quiet enough that she had to lean in to hear him over the fair sounds. “We got everyone out, but there was a little girl. The last one. And...” He trailed off. His jaw clenched with the memory. “There was a bomb. An explosion.” He said it simply. He did not elaborate. Could not or would not. “The only thing I could do to ensure she survived was to cover her with my body, trying to shield her.”
Jane was shocked. She stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. He had thrown himself over a child. Taken the blast. Saved her life by using his own body as a shield.
“Gabe. I...” The words stuck in her throat.
“The doctors say there’s an experimental procedure that might help. Might make it safer,” Gabe continued, not looking at her now, looking out at the fair lights instead. “But even if the procedure works...” He trailed off, but Jane understood what he was not saying. “They probably won’t let me return to duty. I’m too high risk.” His eyes found the girls. “I haven’t told my family… I don’t really know how. I don’t really want to just yet.”
Jane was lost for words. She stared at him, processing everything he had just told her. He really did understand. He understood having life ripped away through no fault of yourown. Understood the uncertainty looming over your future. Understood the fear of losing everything you had built, everything that defined you.
She had to quell the sudden desire to hold him. To comfort him. To be comforted by him. The connection between them deepened through this shared vulnerability, becoming something more than just early-morning painting sessions and casual conversations.
Instead, Jane found words spilling out of her own mouth. The story about her mother leaving when she was three years old.
“Pamela did as much mothering as she was capable of,” Jane admitted, and even saying it out loud hurt in a way she had not expected. “But honestly, when she left, I never even felt her loss that much. She was mostly absent even when she was still with us.” She swallowed. “Dad was everything. Gran was everything. Pamela was just...” Jane searched for the right word. “There. Until she wasn’t.”
Gabe nodded with understanding. “That makes this harder, doesn’t it? Her showing up now with this news.” Jane nodded as he continued. “What about the disease?” Gabe asked gently. “Are you going to get tested?”
Jane shrugged, feeling conflicted and confused. “I’ve been living just fine not knowing about it.” Her voice was uncertain even to her own ears. “I don’t know yet.”
“How about we go together?” Gabe suggested suddenly.
“Together?” Jane frowned, confused by what he meant.
“Yes. I go to the specialist, and you come with me. And I’ll go with you to get tested.” His voice was earnest, offering support that made Jane’s chest feel tight. “We face our fears together.”
Jane’s heart lurched. She realized she wanted that desperately. Wanted someone there with her. She knew her gran and dad would do it, would go with her in a heartbeat. But this... this was different.
With Gabe, she would not have to pretend to be brave. He understood fear. Understood uncertainty. She would not have to worry about being careful not to worry her family. She could just be scared. Be real. Be herself without the armor she had worn for three years.
“Deal,” Jane said, taking his offer. She felt a weight lift slightly from her shoulders.
Gabe looked pleased with her answer, his smile warming his features and reaching his eyes.
Then he deliberately changed the subject, his voice taking on a teasing tone. “I showed my painting to my mother, aunt, and Trinity.”
“And?” Jane prompted, grateful for the lighter direction.
“They were polite and told me it was beautiful.” Gabe continued with mock seriousness. “My mother even hung it in their suite.”
Jane laughed, appreciating how he was lightening the mood. He really did understand, she decided. Understood when to be serious and when to pull back. She totally relaxed into the bench beside him, their shoulders almost touching.
“I think we should make it a regular morning thing, and I’ll teach you how to paint.” The words came out before Jane had fully thought them through. She astonished herself by saying it, by offering something so personal. “You’ll be painting the perfect sunrise in no time.”
She was pleased when Gabe accepted immediately. “I’d like that.” His voice was warm, genuine. “Though I warn you, I might be a hopeless student.”
“I doubt that,” Jane said softly.
Trinity and Maddy returned then, breathless and happy. Their arms were full of candy apples and bags of roasted nuts, their faces flushed from running around in the cold air.
All too soon, it was time to go. The fair was winding down, the shops were closing, and they had bags of dresses and gifts to gather up.
The drive home was filled with the girls chattering about the dresses they had found. The perfect ones for the Winter Ball. Jane drove carefully through the historic streets and then out toward Anastasia Island, while Gabe sat beside her in the passenger seat. There was a comfortable silence between them beneath the girls’ excited chatter, a peaceful companionship that Jane had not felt in years.
