I snort softly, trying to lighten the tension. “Oh, he’s gonna love that.”
He forces a chuckle, but his eyes betray him. There’s a wetness there—unspoken ache, old guilt wrapped in affection.
“Yeah. You’re right,” he says, voice cracking slightly. “He barely likes me living in the same building.”
I step toward him, brushing his untouched oatmeal aside. He doesn’t resist when I cup his face between my palms.
“Gabriel, mi amor,” I murmur. “Alex loves you.”
He laughs, shaky and disbelieving, and I stop it with a gentle press of my finger against his lips.
“It’s true,” I say softly. “Sure, you’re not his favorite person all the time—but that’syourfault.” I grin when his eyes flicker with amusement. He exhales through a reluctant small smile, and I smooth my thumb over the stubble on his cheek.
“But he loves you, chulo,” I say again, quieter this time. Not as a reassurance. As truth.
For a moment, the air between us stills, leaving only the faint hiss of the stove cooling behind me and the echo of everything we’ve been through together. His eyes search mine, unsure whether to believe or break.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“Te quiero más,” I whisper back, brushing my lips against the corner of his mouth—a kiss that saysI remember us, even in the chaos. Especially in the chaos.
He closes his eyes, leans into the touch.
For a second, we just breathe together—like maybe we’ve both found the eye of the storm. Like maybe, just maybe, we’ve earned this quiet moment.
But the weight of reality always knows how to find its way back.
I feel it when Gabriel exhales into my neck. When his fingers tighten around my waist. When the silence stops being tender and starts turning thick again.
He pulls back, just enough to look at me. “Do you really think he’ll be okay?”
I glance toward the hallway, toward where Noah’s probably still curled up in Gabriel’s bed, dreaming of puzzles and rain.
“Just love him, chulo.” My voice catches, the words heavier than they should be. I reach up and gently brush the hair from Gabriel’s face—damp at the temples, curling slightly at the edges. My fingers linger against his skin, memorizing the shape of him, the warmth, the quiet ache in his eyes.
Again, he leans into the touch, barely, and I see the vulnerability behind his sarcasm, the guilt he carries, the love he’s afraid he’ll mess up again.
“Love him with everything you have,” I whisper, my thumb grazing the curve of his cheek. “Even the broken parts. Especially those.”
He nods, slowly, and I see his throat work as he swallows back whatever emotion is threatening to rise.
“And yes…” I pause, letting my hand fall to his chest, resting over his heart. “I think he’ll be okay.”
43
ALEX
“This is a joke, right?”I step out of the shower and into the towel Elijah’s holding out for me. He wraps it around my waist and kisses my cheek.
“Nope.”
“So…” I murmur, rubbing the towel across my thighs. “Gabriel and Noah? Inthispenthouse? Withus?” I raise my brow, still expecting him to laugh and say he’s screwing with me.
But he doesn’t.
He passes me a pair of jeans instead. “And the girls, sí,” he says, all calm and domestic, like this is how mornings are supposed to go. Then he drops to his knees and helps me step into my pants.
“I’m a big boy, you know? I can put on my own pants.”
