“Who cares?” Jane surprised him by saying. There was steel in her voice, a hardness he had not heard before. “This isn’t about her.” She shook her head sadly. “How can someone be so selfish that they make everything about themselves?”
“Narcissists,” Gabe offered, thinking about his own father. “My father’s one.”
Jane sighed, and then she caught his eye. “Have you made your appointment?” Her voice was low, intimate in the quiet shuttle.
Gabe nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “I wrote the appointment time, doctor’s name, and everything.”
She took the note, and their fingers brushed. A warm jolt of electricity shot through him at the contact, unexpected andintense. He saw it had affected Jane as well, as her eyes widened slightly and her breath caught.
“It’s a bit of a drive from here, though,” Gabe continued, trying to focus on the practical details and not on the way his skin still tingled where they had touched. “Jacksonville. And it’s four days before Christmas.”
“That’s okay,” Jane told him, pocketing the note carefully. “I’ll drive us there.”
As they pulled up to the inn, everyone began to stir. Trinity woke slightly as Jack came over and offered to carry her inside. Gabe allowed him to take her, watching as his daughter’s arms went around Jack’s neck without fully waking. Christopher gently lifted Maddy, who was also fast asleep. Isabella had a room at the inn for the night, so they all trooped inside together.
Jane and Gabe were the last two to walk into the inn. As they got into the lobby, everyone was clearing out, heading to their respective rooms with quiet goodnights and tired smiles.
When they were alone in the lobby, Gabe turned to Jane. “See you on the boardwalk tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Jane said with a smile that made his chest feel warm. “You need to finish that masterpiece for your mother.”
Gabe leaned over and kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger for just a moment. “Goodnight, Jane,” he whispered softly. “It’s going to be okay.”
Jane looked up into his eyes and nodded. “I know.” Then she leaned in and kissed him back, her lips brushing against his cheek with a tenderness that nearly made him topple over in surprise.
“Goodnight, Gabe.”
She smiled, turned, and walked through the door that led to the Christmas family’s residence. Gabe stood there for a long moment, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest.
He hobbled toward the stairs, grimacing at the climb ahead. “I had to get a room on the third floor,” he muttered to himself.
When he finally made it to his room, Gabe was exhausted. He pulled out his phone and wallet and set them on the dresser. His wallet hit the edge and fell to the floor, falling open.
As Gabe bent to pick it up, a breeze wafted in from the open window. It was warm and soft, seeming to wrap around him like an embrace. The scent of lilies and vanilla hit him suddenly—Abi’s perfume.
Gabe froze, his hand on the wallet. He was filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the Florida night air. A familiar voice whispered, so clear it was as if she were standing right beside him.
“It wasn’t your fault, my love. You need to let it go.”
He glanced down at Abi’s photo in his wallet, his throat constricting with emotion. It was the picture he always carried, Abi laughing at the camera, her eyes full of life and love.
“I’m trying, my love,” Gabe whispered into the empty room. “I’m trying.”
The breeze faded as suddenly as it had appeared, and the room was still again. But Gabe felt something shift inside him. Some burden he had been carrying for six years felt lighter, like Abi had reached across whatever divide separated them and given him permission to live again.
To love again.
Gabe closed the wallet gently, placed it on the dresser, and sat on the edge of the bed. Tomorrow, he would wake early and meet Jane on the boardwalk. They would paint together as the sun rose. And the day after that, they would face their fears together at the hospital.
For the first time in six years, Gabe allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, the future held something more than grief and guilt. Maybe it held hope. Maybe it even held happiness.
And maybe, just maybe, Abi would approve.
9
JANE
They walked into the hospital, and Pamela was there like a vulture waiting to pick at a carcass. She was dressed impeccably as always, but there was something in her posture. It was tense, expectant, and predatory, which made Jane’s skin crawl.
