More tears filled Gabe’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”
Caleb held open the family room door. “You don’t need to say anything. You’d do the same for me if the situation were reversed.”
Thankfully, the large room was empty. Gabe’s tired gaze traveled across the navy blue sofas and chairs. Last night, a handful of people had been here, waiting for news about their friends and family. Everyone’s voices had been hushed, talking in whispers as they’d tried to console each other. In the end, when he needed to call Natalie’s mom or reply to a message from the police, he’d taken refuge outside the ward. Sitting on the hard, plastic chairs in the corridor was better than adding another family’s stress to what he already felt.
Caleb emptied the bags of food onto one of the tables. “You’d better sit down before you collapse. Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I don’t think so. What about you?”
“I went home for a couple of hours, then came back. I booked into a hotel not far from here. Sit.”
Gabe did as he was told—he was too exhausted to do anything else. The smell of bacon and eggs made his stomach rumble.
“Did you eat anything after I brought you dinner last night?”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t hungry.”
“It sounds like you are, now.” Caleb bit into his muffin and sighed. “I’m happy to report that breakfast is delicious.”
Gabe lifted the muffin to his mouth and took a bite. Caleb was right. “Thanks for being here.” He wiped his face with the back of his hand as more tears fell. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“It’s stress,” Caleb said softly. “Can I ask you something?”
Gabe swallowed what he was eating and nodded.
“When Michelle died, did you go to any counseling?”
He knew where this conversation was going and it would be hard. “I saw a police psychiatrist for a while.”
“And?”
Gabe placed his muffin in its box. “I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”
Caleb didn’t seem surprised. “How are you feeling today?”
“Right at this minute?”
“If you like.”
Gabe studied the expression on his friend’s face. Unlike his psychiatrist, he wasn’t asking out of professional curiosity. He was asking because he cared. “I feel like I’m drowning and I can’t find anything to keep me afloat.”
“What would keep you afloat?”
He rubbed his hands across his eyes. “Knowing that Natalie is all right. Going to sleep and waking up to find this was all a bad dream.”
“We can get you help with some sleep, but nothing will change what happened.”
Gabe looked down at his hands. “Two days after we found Natalie in the cave, I drove into Polson to look for an engagement ring. I love her.” He searched Caleb’s face, expecting him to be shocked. “Is there nothing that surprises you?”
“You’d have to be blind not to see how much you care about each other. Does what happened yesterday change anything?”
Gabe crossed his arms in front of his chest to stop them shaking. “I can’t do it.”
“What can’t you do?”
“I can’t marry her. I can’t have a relationship with her. What if someone else makes my life a living hell? Natalie could have died.”
Caleb leaned forward. “You’re the reason she lived. You found Natalie and stopped Chapman from killing her. Then you climbed the tree to make sure she was okay. Without your help she would have died before the police found her.”
