Gabriel grins at me, his playful side shining through. “See something you like, sweetheart?”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps up on me. “You already know the answer to that, Gabby.”
He leans in slightly, taking my hands across the table. His touch is warm and reassuring, but there’s an urgency in his voice when he speaks.
“Then why are we doing this? Whatever this is, can’t we just stop? Go back to what we were—what we are?”
I pull my hands away, shaking my head. I can’t let him do this. I can’t let him think we can just fall back into what was comfortable without addressing the truth.
“I don’t see how that is possible,” I say, my voice firm but filled with emotion. “I don’t want to get married just because it is what your lawyer thinks is best. I need to be sure that we’re doing this for the right reasons. I can’t just be a solution to a problem. Ineed to feel like you’re choosing me, not because it’s convenient, but because you love me. Because you want to spend the rest of your life with me, and not just because of Aura or some legal agreement.”
He opens his mouth—maybe to argue, maybe to plead—but I stand before he can speak.
“I can’t keep pretending that this is easy,” I whisper. “Because it’s not.”
His eyes are glassy and he looks like he is barely keeping himself together.
I want to hug him, but I’m barely keeping it together myself.
I stand up before he can say anything more, unable to keep sitting there, waiting for him to give me the answer I want.
“I have to go,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And with that, I leave, knowing that I’ve just walked away from something that could change everything.
Tiger, Go Get Her!
GABRIEL
Well,that didn't go as I hoped it would.
I can still feel the sting of Millie walking out on me, her words ringing in my ears as she left. I wanted to tell her everything, to make her understand it wasn't just a business move, that it wasn't just about a lawyer's suggestion.
It's about how I've felt since the moment we met, how I knew, deep down, that she was the one. The one I could see in my life for the rest of my days.
But I couldn't say anything about that because she didn't give me a chance.
And now, I find an empty seat at the bar, the place strangely quiet now compared to the earlier bustle of the restaurant. I signal the bartender for a drink. I might as well take advantage of the babysitter I've got for the night.
The first sip of the amber liquid burns down my throat, but it's not enough to numb the ache that tightens around my chest. I set the glass down, watching the way the ice cubes clink together, trying to pretend it's helping.
But nothing is.
Not the whiskey. Not the distraction. Not the weight of everything that happened tonight.
I'm not sure how long I've been sitting here. It could be five minutes or five hours, for all I know. The emptiness doesn't change, it just gets louder the longer I sit with it.
The bartender slides another drink in front of me, and without thinking, I gulp it down in one go. The burn is more intense this time, but it's easier to swallow. Maybe it's the only thing that makes sense right now.
It's not just the alcohol that's burning me. It's the thought that I've already lost her. The woman who could make me laugh on my worst days, who could calm my storms with just one touch. The thought that I might not get the chance to hold her, to have her in my life, fills me with more dread than I ever thought I could feel.
"Gabriel?"
The voice breaks through the haze in my mind, and I turn, startled. I see Kenna standing there, her brow furrowed in that familiar way she does when she's concerned—deeply concerned. She's got that look in her eyes, the one that says she already knows something's wrong.
"Kenna," I murmur, almost too quietly to hear. I don't know if I want to tell her what happened—how Millie walked out before I could get a word in. Or how I feel like I've already lost her, even though I haven't even had the chance to fight for her yet.
Kenna slides onto the stool next to me, her gaze soft but firm. She doesn't ask any questions at first. Just sits there, waiting for me to speak. I don't. I can't The words are tangled in my throat, choking me from the inside out.
