Page 123 of Gabriel's Salvation

“Your mom?” I ask quietly.

Gabe nods slightly but doesn't look at me. I squeeze his thigh in what I hope is reassuring, because I really am at a loss about what to do or say. My heart aches for Gabe and everything he has lost and has had to go through in his life. Gabe interlocks our hands and squeezes mine back, but doesn't say another word.

A couple of minutes later he finally speaks, again barely louder than a whisper. “She used to sing it to me.”

“Who, your mom?”

Again he nods. “She used to sing it to me as a child, telling me I was her guardian angel. Sent to make her brave enough to survive my father’s temper.” There's a mixture of sadness and anger in his voice. I hate that he had so much sadness around his parents.

A mother who clearly adored him yet left him far too soon, and a father who deserved to be the one to die a long, slow, and painful death. I wonder what Gabe would have been like if it had been his father who died instead. Would he be like Nate? Happy and carefree? Would he be kinder? With a more gentle soul? No, he already has those traits. Maybe he’d have been entitled and selfish, a typical jock or bully who had no idea about kindness or trauma. Maybe he wouldn't have even given someone like me a second glance.

“I'm sure she loved you very much. I wish I could have met her,” I comment, unsure what else to say or do to help him.

“I think she would have loved you, just as much as I do,” Gabe sighs, sounding almost absentminded.

Wait! Did he just say he loved me? I look up at him expecting to see some reaction to coincide with his declaration, but nothing. He’s just staring at the road as if nothing happened.

Am I imagining it? Maybe he said LIKE, she’d like me as much as he does? Yeah, that must have been it. That can't be how Gabe would say he loved me, surely. I mean he can't love me yet, can he?

My mind spirals as I think of our time together. No, he can't be saying he loves me. But I did almost say it to him a couple of nights ago, so maybe this is love. I've never felt this strongly about any other boyfriend. And I know that Gabe has never done the whole girlfriend thing before, so maybe this is love. Fuck. This is amazing but also terrifying.

“We’re here,” Gabe calls out, breaking me from my mental spiral.

Izzy wakes up almost instantly, which is unusual for her. Nate, on the other hand, is a little more groggy.

“Wake up sleepy head,” Gabe says as he reaches back and shoves his brother's leg.

“I really need the bathroom,” Izzy whines as we’re climbing out of the car.

“It's over there,” I say pointing towards the public restrooms just beside the waiting line. Izzy gives me a little wide eyed look so I offer to go with her.

“Get the tickets please. Here's my purse, we will be back in a sec,” I say as I hand Gabe my purse, but he pushes it back towards me.

“Gaabe,” I whine. “You paid last time. I refuse to allow you to pay again. It's my turn.” I say as I stomp my feet, trying to show I'm standing my ground but he just smirks.

“Such a brat,” he chuckles. “You can find a way to pay me back later; I intend on making sure you show your gratitude many times.”

“Dude!” Nate grumbles as he covers his ears. “I don't need to hear that shit when I’ve just opened my eyes.”

Gabe just chuckles and rolls his eyes in response.

“Come on,” Izzy whispers as she tugs on my arm.

We head into the bathroom, but instead of going into the stall Izzy just stands there staring at me.

“I thought you wanted to pee,” I ask, a little confused.

“No, I just wanted to get you alone,” Izzy replies, sounding almost giddy.

“Okay? Why?” I ask before it dawns on me, “You weren't really asleep, were you?” I gasp.

“No I was, but I woke up after the car stopped. I was about to sit up to see where you had gone, but I'll be honest, I was half scared I would see one of you half naked on the hood of the car,” she says and I can see a little blush creeping up her cheeks. “Then you got back in, and you and Gabe were talking and I kind of didn't wanna interrupt as it was clearly a super private conversation. I tried my hardest not to listen; I really did, but…” she says nervously.

“Did you hear what he said about his mother? About him wishing she had met me?” Maybe she heard and can give me some clarity about what he said.

She nods her head while smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“Did he say?” I ask nervously.

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