Page 92 of Cowboy SEAL Christmas

“How long do I fight though? Just…forever?”

“As long as you love, you fight. Unless it’s hurting you or Colin in a damaging way. Love hurts, but it should never damage.”

“My, you got wise,” Monica managed, though her throat felt too tight and everything hurt and ached.

“Lord, what I’ve had to go through to find that wisdom. I don’t wish it on anyone.” But Mom said it with a grin.

Monica didn’t know that she felt sure or settled or even brave enough to follow all that advice, but here, curled up on the couch with her mother, talking as both mother and daughter and two adults, with Christmas lights shining, she felt something a lot closer to hope than she had the past few days.

Chapter 24

Hangovers were only painful if you let them be. They could only affect your life if you were planning on having one. The snow greatly impeded any chores getting done, and Alex had been doing just fine without Gabe the days he’d been…stuck elsewhere.

Elsewherehad him leaving his bed and searching for more alcohol. It would make the pain go away. The pounding head, the swirling stomach.

He blinked blearily at the empty bottles that littered his small, squat dresser. They were all empty. It seemed impossible, but the evidence was right there in front of him.

He’d have to go get more. The thought of leaving was as unpleasant as any, but not nearly as bad as sobering up. He’d run through the shower, wake himself up a bit, and then head into town for more booze.

He’d get enough for weeks. Months. Years. If that much in two days hadn’t fixed anything, he needed to up his game.

Unfortunately, the shower’s cold water brought too much clarity. He could think straight. Worse, he could feel…everything. The physical pain. The emotional pain.

He wrenched off the shower and dried himself off. His head was pounding, and he felt unsteady on his feet. He gripped the sink, trying to find some center of not-going-to-puke.

Once his body settled a little, he slowly lifted his head. Then he could only stare at himself in the mirror, wondering who the man looking back at him was. That man looked haggard. Haunted.Thatman looked like…well, everything Evan had ever hoped he’d be. A lonely, drunken loser.

Gabe spun away from the mirror and jerked on his clothes.

Fuck Evan. Fuck old memories. Fuck…

He didn’t even want to think her name. It conjured up too many memories of her smile, her touch, her laugh. Saying she loved him as if that was something either of them would ever survive.

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to lose himself in alcohol today. If only to prove he didn’t need to. But he wasn’t going to sit here andthinkeither. If he allowed himself to think too much, he’d be liable to convince himself of something that could never be true.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he stopped abruptly. Jack was sprawled out on his old bed, and Alex was sitting in an uncomfortable chair Gabe never used.

“What are you two doing?”

“Thought we’d help you drink yourself to death,” Jack said, nodding toward the dresser, where his empty bottles were lined up, but a brand-new and very full bottle sat at the end.

Tempting. Especially with Jack and Alex here, likely with advice or some shit. Best to handle this the way he always handled things. Flippantly and distancing. Throw in a few good smiles, if he could manage them, and he’d win whatever battle this was going to be.

Even though he’d decided to lay off the booze, he wasn’t about to tell them that. It would play into their hands. “What else is there to do in this godforsaken wasteland?”

“You could leave,” Alex said calmly, his dark gaze only adding to the way those words landed like blows. “You don’t have to live in this wasteland if that’s how you feel.”

Flippant. Be flippant. Smile. But he couldn’t get his mouth to curve. He could only stare at Alex as if the man had thrown a machete into his chest.

“You’ll note he said youcould, not that we want you to,” Jack added.

Gabe slowly turned to meet Jack’s gaze. “Is there a difference?”

“Yes,” Alex replied calmly.

“We want you to be happy,” Jack said, sitting up in the bed, eyes never leaving Gabe. “If that meant leaving, we might be sad, but we’d support it.”

“You need me here. You can’t run this place without me.” He sounded too rusty, too desperate.

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