He'd failed there too, never mind their relationship was supposed to have been fake. He'd fallen in love with her only to turn around and let her down.
"How have you failed everyone?" Grace's brow furrowed in confusion.
"I'm supposed to take care of you and Mom, and I?—"
"Says who?"
Gabe gave a non-committal shrug. "I had to be the man of the house after Dad left. It was my job to take care of?—"
"Stop!" She held up a hand. "I know with Mom being diagnosed with breast cancer and me getting…well, you know… You had to take on an awful lot of responsibility, and you did a fabulous job. I don't know what either of us would have done without you during that time." Her voice grew thick with emotion. "But newsflash: I'm an adult now, and Mom's cancer is not your fault. You don't have to fix everything for everyone." She choked up again. "Replacing the trellis won't change Mom's diagnosis, Gabe."
"I know." He ground out the words then punctuated them with another swear word.
"Mom would be so disappointed to hear you talk like that.”
His gut clenched. Grace was right, but he felt so helpless. He looked down at the mess he'd made. He'd managed to untangle two vines. He still had several more to go, but he couldn't stop now. Doing so would feel like he had lost hope.
He dug back into the roses, determined to finish what he'd started. There would come a day when he'd need to let go, but he wasn't ready for today to be that day.
More time than what?
The words filled his head again, but he pushed them aside. He couldn't justify why he should be allowed more time with his mom, when others lost loved ones all the time without warning.
Grace sighed. "At least change your clothes and get some gloves."
He surveyed his clothes. Several small tears and specks of blood dotted his white dress shirt. A few drops had even landed on his gray slacks that sported grass and dirt stains. They were already ruined. What was the point in changing now?
She shook her head and walked away, returning a few minutes later with two pairs of gloves. "Stop punishing yourself and put these on."
He doubted the gloves would do much good since he'd already mangled his hands, but he didn't have the energy to argue. In some perverse way, he felt like he deserved the pain he'd inflicted on himself.
Grace pulled on the second pair. "Tell me what to do."
"You don't have to help me." He shook his head as he went after the vine that had been giving him fits. "You should stay close to Mom, in case she needs something."
"She's not a child or an invalid, Gabe. Not yet anyway." She studied her gloved hands. "She reminded me of that this morning. We need to let her be independent for as long as we can."
Grace was right. Again. He acknowledged her words with a grunt. "Hold this vine while I untangle the other one from it."
They worked together for some time; their grunts and hisses the only thing to break the silence. Then out of the blue, Grace said, "I still think it's wrong to lie to Mom, but for what it's worth, I like Paige."
Gabe's head jerked up. "Good, but did you seriously have to give her such a hard time last week?"
"I had to make sure she was good enough for my brother." Grace grinned, unrepentant.
"It's fake, Grace. You don't need to protect me from a fake girlfriend."
She quirked a brow at him. "Are you sure about that?"
"That I don't need your protection?” He scowled at her. “One hundred percent certain."
"No, are you sure it's still fake?" Skepticism filled her face.
"Of course it is. It has to be—" He sucked in a sharp breath when athorn dug into his arm. "I don't have the time or emotional energy for anything more."
Grace dropped the vine she'd been holding and propped her hands on her hips. "That’s nonsense."
"It's not nonsense. It's called being realistic and responsible."
