“I’ll bring the bourbon,” Elijah adds, rolling his eyes but smiling.
“And I’ll bring the camera,” Ana grins, snapping her fingers. “Because this level of fabulousness deserves to be captured!”
45
ALEX
I stepinto Noah’s apartment, and it feels like the air itself is watching me.
It’s thick, stale, like it’s been holding its breath. Waiting. The silence presses against my chest, heavy and unforgiving. The restless energy that used to fill this space is gone, leaving a hollow that’s hard to ignore. Every corner hums with absence, every shadow whispers of what almost was.
I rub the back of my neck, trying to shake off the unease.
“Anyone here?” I call out, moving further inside. My voice sounds foreign in the quiet.
Gabriel pops up from behind the kitchen counter. “Hey. Just double-checking to make sure we didn’t leave anything behind,” he says, wiping his hands against his pants. “Looks like we’re good.”
I nod and spin around, taking one final look at this hollow, echoing space. “Elijah stepped out—had to swing by the bar. He said he’ll bring home a pizza on his way back,” I say as Gabriel steps up beside me.
“Good, I’m starving.” He grins, letting his hand settle on my shoulder. The brief squeeze is both grounding and fleeting.
“We just got back from a meeting with Noah’s psychiatrist,” Gabriel adds. “Nice guy. Gave me the whole rundown on dissociative identity disorder.” He scrubs his chin. “It’s a lot, Alex.”
I place my hand over his, letting him feel that he’s not alone. “I know. It took me by surprise as well. I can’t even begin to imagine the hell he’s been through… andstillgoing through.” I give his hand a gentle squeeze. “But miraculously, he’s not broken. We’ll get through this, Gabriel… together. Okay?”
He nods, a fragile sort of agreement catching in his throat. “Noah’s in his bedroom, gathering the rest of his things.” His fingers rake through his hair, as if trying to smooth out the ache beneath his skin. “Letters, torn pages, poetry…you,” he murmurs, tilting his eyes up, slipping a hand into his pocket. “I thought it best to give him a little space. He seemed like he needed it—to breathe, maybe to fall apart without anyone watching.”
I shift my weight, guilt pricking just beneath my ribs. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I motion toward the door. “I’ll just?—”
“I think it’s also a good idea if maybe… you check on him,” Gabriel says softly, the words trembling on his tongue. His eyes glisten, emotion swimming there—unspoken but heavy.
“Me? Are you sure?”
He glances down at his feet, draws a breath, then another, before lifting his gaze again. “Alex…” His voice catches. “Noah wants me—to be his boyfriend, to care for him, cuddle with him, love him. And I can be all of that for him. But what he needs… is you. He needs the brother he waited for all those years. The one he wanted to share his bed with, laugh with, and most of all… todance with”—he pauses, breathes—“just the two of you, as if the world doesn’t exist outside that room.”
“Gabriel, no.” I sigh, turning away.
He reaches for my hand, letting his thumb brush over my knuckles before lifting it to his lips. “Take what I’m offering, Alex. It’s not up for discussion. You both need this… time. To wrap things up, to feel everything fully, to express it, and then… to let it go.”
I inhale slowly, catching the soothing, spicy scent that clings to Gabriel. Part of me wants to pull away, to argue. Another part—quieter, tired—knows he’s right and hates him a little for saying it out loud. My chest tightens as the truth settles in: that this is permission, not punishment. That he’s telling me to finish what was left unfinished, knowing full well it means saying goodbye. I want to pretend I don’t need this, but the ache in my chest gives me away. Letting go feels necessary and unbearable all at once.
“I’ll only need ten minutes.” I sigh into the air.
Of course, he smirks—that damn cocky, teasing smirk. “That’s it?” He chuckles, then lets his expression drop into quiet seriousness, each word measured. “I’ll give you twenty,” he whispers. “It’s… what I gave myself… with Elijah.”
His eyes stay locked on mine, not just to make sure I understand the secret he’s just shared, but to see if I can bear it.
I almost faint.
I swallow, but it catches in my throat. My stomach twists. My mind stutters—Elijah—Gabriel—together. That thought, thatrevelation, lands like fire and ice at once.
I glance up at the ceiling.
Down at my feet.
I’d been right—therewerestill feelings there, lingering between the two of them, quiet but undeniable.
Sixteen years of marriage, a daughter, and then a separation that neither wanted but happened anyway, left a lot behind.
