The book signing is finished and I’m glad it’s over. This was exhausting. It’s my first one, and I am disappointed by the lack of youth... or women. It’s mostly older gentlemen, which makes me wonder what kind of fan they are.
Anyway, I help Bailey pack up the displays and extra books. I turn around and my eyes blow wide.
“Gabe.”
“Hi, Morgan,” he says calmly.
His face has the faintest bruise under his eye, but otherwise he is unmarked. He sports a fresh haircut, is clean shaven, and wears a clerical collar.
My attacker is still a man of the cloth, apparently.
I blink and stand frozen. I literally cannot move.
“Oh my goodness! Gabe,” gushes Bailey. She gallops over, her red locks bouncing. “You’ve been sick for almost three weeks. I was about to send an ambulance to your house.”
He smiles softly. “Thank you. That’s very kind. I’ve missed everyone.”
His eyes flick to mine before he takes a box from my hands.
“May I?” Then he carries it out of the bookstore to the church’s van parked curbside.
I exhale a heavy breath the second he steps out of the door.
“You good, missy? You look sick,” says Bailey.
“Yep. Good.” I reset quick, but Gabe is back, grabbing another box.
My nerves switch on and my hands become clammy. I suppress the emotional onslaught within and make my movements steady the best I can.
We finish packing all the items and I hurry to the van, but he stops me.
“Morgan. Can I buy you a smoothie? Your favorite place is next to the bookstore. Might as well.”
“She would love to!” squeals Bailey, like she is our matchmaker.
I sigh. “I am tired and—”
He lowers his voice.
“I want to apologize. I have a lot to say. After, I’ll leave forever if you want.” He looks over his shoulder at the smoothie shop and points. “It’s in public.”
My stomach knots, but I nod, though hesitantly.
It’s so hard to be around him. His voice is the same with that soft-spoken tenor.
But it all feels different.
However, this needs to be dealt with and if it means he’ll walk out of my life afterwards, great.
It’s chilly inside the white and orange smoothie shop. We order and sit at a small table.
He draws in a long inhale before beginning.
“Welp, first of all, I am sorry. I was wrong. I was out of line. You said no, and I didn’t listen. That’s on me.”
I hold the straw between my lips and squint.
“But why?” I ask.
