I sit there in the cold, watching my own breath fog out in front of me while I wait for Gabby to finish her get-together with her father. The wind cuts through my jacket, but I stay anyway. It feels like the least I can do.
I had seen the way Papa Bruce used to look at me, especially right after Gabby left me. Or rather, right after I drove her away. The memory is a frayed nerve.
I recall showing up at my father-in-law’s house in tears, pacing back and forth on his porch as I banged on the door, begging and calling out for him to come to the door.
In my mind, I hear it clearly:
“UM… hey Pop… I… is Gabrielle here?”
My own tremoring voice assaults me.
Bruce had frowned, confused.
“No. What’s going on? What’s got you in that state? She do somethin’ to you?”
A weak smile pulls at my mouth now.
It had never even crossed the old man’s mind that I had done something to Gabrielle.
Understandable.
After all, I was the one who showed up looking like the hosts of hell were chasing me.
“Is she okay?” I remember Bruce asking, his face falling as if he feared something terrible had happened to her.
“I messed up. I messed up so much. I don't want to lose her. I'm so sorry please help me I don't know what to do,” my voice had rung out.
Pure desperation.
Shame.
The kind of panic that takes hold of a man only when he realizes too late that the one thing keeping him alive has left him.
I needed my wife.
And the thing is… Bruce had been strangely gentle with me. Grateful even. Maybe because at the time he hadn't heard her side yet. Even though I had told him straight up that I got involved with someone at work… that Gabby walked in on us… even then, he didn’t show me any vitriol.
He just listened.
Maybe he wanted me to calm down.
Maybe he wanted to hear both sides.
Bruce has always been a fair man.
And maybe, and it hurts to even think this, it had never even entered Bruce’s mind, despite what I confessed, that I was capable of doing something like that to his daughter.
He trusted me with her.
I made him a promise I would take care of her.
So hearing me admit the opposite probably made no sense to him.
Hell, it still doesn’t make sense to me.
My phone chimes with a text notification.
Gabby: you okay?
