“Now I’m scared for a completely different reason.” She gave a small laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “He’s the best thing that has happened to me in years. What if I mess it up? What if I don’t fit into his world the way he thinks I do?”
“Tessa.” Lucy’s voice was steady. “He lights up when you walk into a room. Every time.”
“He doesn’t.”
“He does. Around Knox and Ronan, he’s all edges. With you, he softens.”
Tessa’s throat tightened.
They sat there a moment, the ocean keeping its rhythm.
“I don’t want to live like I’m waiting for it to fall apart,” she said finally.
Lucy glanced at her. “Then don’t.”
The door opened. Gabriel stepped onto the porch, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Brunch cleanup complete. Knox only broke one thing.”
“Only one?” Lucy asked.
“I heard that.” Knox appeared in the doorway, expression murderous. “And that platter was clearly defective.”
“It was an antique,” Devney called from inside.
“An antique with structural weaknesses,” Knox shot back.
Lucy asked, “Did it collapse before or after you touched it?”
He straightened. “It was already compromised.”
“Of course it was.”
“Children.” Devney’s voice floated from inside. “No one is pressing charges. Let it go.”
Knox and Lucy glared at each other for another moment, then retreated to separate corners of the porch like boxers returning to their corners between rounds.
Gabriel caught Tessa’s eye. His expression said everything: amusement, exasperation, and a silent apology for the chaos.
She loved him.
Her wineglass paused halfway to her mouth. The realization hit like vertigo. Her hand tightened on the stem, and she set the glass down before she dropped it.
She loved him. Gabriel Sterling, here and now. The man who made her breakfast and argued with his friends about dishwashing technique and showed her his whole life without reservation.
And she hadn’t said it to him yet.
The realization sat heavy for the rest of the afternoon. Through packing, through goodbyes, through the careful negotiation of fitting weekend bags into Gabriel’s car while Knox and Lucy exchanged parting insults.
She almost said it when he caught her watching and gave her that slow, private smile.
But saying it felt like stepping off a cliff.
The drive back to the city was quieter than the drive out.
Gabriel held her hand across the center console. Traffic was light, the Sunday exodus still hours away.
“You’re quiet,” he said.
“Thinking.”
