Page 111 of Gabriel's Salvation

“But…” she adds with a pause, “I also understand why you'd see it the way you do. I know that for you, trust is a huge thing to give away, so in your mind for her to tell anyone else is a huge betrayal. I also kind of get why you blame her. But please, for me, I beg you to try to forgive her or at least tolerate her. Baby, you're just hurting everyone around you by holding on to your anger. Imagine how nice it would be for the four of us to all be together. My best friend and your brother. It would be so nice. Please for me, will you try?” Riley begs as she runs her hands through my hair.

“For you, I'll try,” I say. As much as I don't want to, I know she's right. I've seen small glimpses of the old Izzy I knew growing up. And I can see how if I let it, a friendship could easily form. Plus I hate that Riley feels the need to sneak around. I hear how she talks about her friends. And I hear how Nate talks about the group, the ones that became like a second family to him. And I can't help but secretly wish I could fit in with them all.

“That's all I ask baby. One day at a time.” Riley sighs as she pulls me closer and kisses me softly.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Riley

Iclimb off Gabe’s bike, giving him one last kiss before I head inside. I hear the sound of his engine as he speeds away, and feel the sadness and longing in my chest already. How can I miss him already? It's been like five seconds.

“Harper,” I call out as I run towards our bedroom.

“She’s out with the girls,” my mother shouts from the kitchen.

“Any idea where?” I ask as I walk into the kitchen and see my mother typing away on her computer at the dinner table.

“I'm guessing still at Izzy's. Didn't you spend the weekend there?” my mother quizzes.

“Oh yeah, of course,” I lie, mentally thanking my sister for covering for me. “but I met up with Lexi earlier. She offered to help me study for my biology exam. You know she had to study all that stuff and I'm useless,” I add.

My mother eyes me suspiciously for a moment before turning her attention back to her laptop.

“I thought she might be back by now, but obviously not,” I say, changing the subject. “I think I may head over if that's okay.”

My mother goes to say something, but a beep from her laptop stops her in her tracks. Thank god for the charity auction. “Yes, sure. I gotta get back. We’ve been having a few issues with the venue,” my mother replies as she types away furiously.

I head to the fridge, grab myself a couple of snacks, and then head back out the door.

Izzy’s house isn't far away, it's within walking distance, so I make the most of the afternoon sun as I make my way over.

I knock on the door before pushing it open slightly, “It's just me, Riley,” I shout. Izzy’s grandparents always leave their door unlocked and have told us to just walk in, but I still feel that I’m being a little rude when I do it.

“Hello, Mrs. Williams?” I call out as I push the door open slowly and step inside. “It's just Riley.”

“Come on in, dear,” a voice shouts in response.

I head inside and see Mrs. Williams coming out of the kitchen, carrying a plate. “The girls are all upstairs, make your way up. Take these with you though, dear,” she says as she thrusts the plate of cookies into my hand.

“You're determined to make us all fat,” I laugh. “If my butt gets any bigger it won't fit through the door.”

“Boys like big butts, or so I hear,” she replies with a cheeky grin.

“What's all this talk of butts?” Mr. Williams says as he appears, and attempts to steal a cookie.

“George,” Mrs. Williams scolds as she slaps his hand away. “You know what the doctor said.”

Mr. Williams rubs his hands while frowning. “But I don't want a piece of fruit,” he grumbles.

“But it's better for your heart,” she replies as she turns to grab an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Here,” I whisper as I hand a cookie to him. He hides it behind his back like a naughty toddler, and at the same time, he reaches for the apple Mrs. Williams hands him a second later.

“I swear that man has a sugar radar,” she laughs as Mr. Williams scurries away.

“And butts, someone said butts,” he shouts back.

“Honestly, that man,” she says, shaking her head. “He doesn’t hear me bellowing his name to help me unload the dishwasher and doesn't hear the postman knocking at the door with the new cushions I ordered, yet he can hear the oven door opening or a rude comment from a mile away.”

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