“It will blow up in our faces.”
Rolling my eyes, I laugh. “It won’t. Trust me. Please.”
“You don’t need to convince me out of some misguided obligation,” he says, and I can see he’s grasping at straws, searching for a way out of this. “You’re not responsible for fixing shit between me and my family.”
“It’s not like that,” I say, my tone gentle. “We’re friends, and this is what friends do, right? They’re there for one another. Let’s go to the wedding. Let me be there for you. I promise nothing bad is going to happen.”
Gabriel nods, his expression pained. “Friends. Right,” he says, his tone guarded all of a sudden.
I feel a pang in my chest, a flicker of sadness washing over me. But I remind myself I can’t keep leading him on. If we’re going to remain in each other’s lives—something I’d very much like for us to do—then we need to redefine our relationship. That means being friends, and only friends. Nothing less and nothing more. We can’t tread water in the gray area anymore.
“Alright,” he says. “We’ll go to the wedding.”
Really? Good.
Relief sweeps through me. I know he has his reservations, but this is going to be so good for him. If I’ve learned anything from my therapist these past couple of weeks, it’s that the deepest wounds require us to experience the most discomfort in order to heal from them.
Going to his mom’s wedding isn’t something Gabriel wants to do, but it’s something he has to do if he's ever going to put their issues behind him and move on.
“What time do I need to be ready?”
Drawing closer, Gabriel cups the back of my neck and pulls me to him. I hold back the urge to melt against his chest, keeping my back stiff as his lips press against my forehead and he whispers against my skin.
“I’ll be here at four to pick you up,” he murmurs, his words sending a shiver down my spine. “Thank you for this.”
His touch lingers on my skin, searing me with an intensity I'm desperate to ignore. But as he pulls away, I force myself to meet his gaze, to keep my emotions in check despite the butterflies dancing inside my stomach.
“I’ll be ready,” I reply, my voice steady despite my nerves.
Gabriel offers me a small, grateful smile before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he descends the stairs. Left alone in the quiet of my room, I give myself a moment to exhale, to release the tension coiled tight inside my chest.
It’s just a wedding.I remind myself.What’s the worst that can happen?
CHAPTER 67
GABRIEL
Cecilia steals my breath the next day when I arrive at her place to pick her up for my Mother’s wedding.
She greets me at her door in a pale blue dress that falls to the ground in soft gauzy waves. The dress is sleeveless, the neckline scalloped in a way that accentuates the column of her neck.
Her hair is styled in loose waves around her face and she’s wearing more makeup than usual. A mask to cover the lingering discoloration on her skin, but she’s just as beautiful as ever.
“You look stunning,” I tell her and offer her my arm.
She accepts my arm and follows me outside. “Thanks.”
I lead her to my bike only to hesitate as I take in her dress once again.
“I didn’t really think?—”
“I wore shorts underneath,” she says with a grin.
Perfect.
Helping her adjust her helmet, I guide her onto my bike and we set off for the wedding.
We’re a few minutes late when we arrive, so I slip in the back, taking a seat in one of the last pews of the church. Cecilia slidesin beside me, her hand immediately finding mine. “You doing okay?” She squeezes, a subtle sign of reassurance.
