Page 81 of One Short Summer

My gaze zooms in on me. I’m next to Gabe, gazing up at him with a smile on my face.

No!

No.

No.

No.

I’m not just gazing up at him.

I looksmitten...absolutely enamored.

Well, fucking hell.

I suddenly feel dizzy, my skin tingling everywhere.

Leaning against the bed, I let my head fall back and close my eyes. Behind my eyelids, my mind conjures a mini-movie, flooding me with images from my time with Gabe.

All the evenings we spent together on the couch because we enjoy each other’s company more than anyone else’s on a constant basis. All the thoughtful moments we had over the year when I was too blind and lost to see much of what was happening around me, yet he still stood by my side.

All the times he’s helped me during my active recovery—making sure I had everything I needed and got to my appointments, watching me like a hawk so I wouldn’t do too much and get injured again.

And then, most recently—getting me to go on that trip and dance again, followed by the touches, the kisses, the sweet gestures, and the best and most sensational sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.

This man has rocked my world in so many ways, being my anchor when I needed him to be, my silent supporter, and never asking for anything in return.

He’s an absolute saint.

He’s the man I fell in love with.

Without even realizing it. Absolutely clueless.

My mind is fuzzy, distracted by all the memories of Gabe that have always meant so much more.

My stomach flutters while my pulse hammers under my skin, acting like it’s getting an adrenaline push at the end of a race.

Before I know what’s going on, I’m on my feet and out the door.

The urge to tell Gabe is at the forefront of my mind. So strong, I’m having trouble not shouting the words through the whole house. My steps are fast but quiet, thanks to my years of dance training, as I speed down the staircase in the back of the house. When I’m about to round the corner into the kitchen, I stop short when I hear Gabe say my name. When he speaks again, I realize he’s on the phone.

“Yeah, Monica’s packing.” He lets out a loud huff as I try to get my breathing under control. “What’s there to talk about, Hudson?”

Hudson? Why are they talking about me?

“No, I won’t talk to her about it. She’s doing what she’s wanted to do forever. I don’t want her to stay. It wouldn’t work out.Trust me.”

If someone would have punched me in the face right then and there, it couldn’t have hurt any more.

“She loves dancing too much, you know that. It’s everything to her, her whole life.”

Those words.

The same words my exes have said to me.

It all slams into me at once. Years of hurt and betrayal that others don’t want me the way I am, embarrassment over who I am so strong, I have to steady myself on the wall. My body is shaking within seconds, the emotions so intense, I’m afraid my body is going to collapse in on itself at any moment.

In the far corner of my subconscious, I hear Gabe’s raised voice, registering frustration and anger I’ve barely ever heard before. But it’s drowned out quickly by my own brain fog as I’m trying to get up the stairs—crawling more than actual walking, with my fist pressed to my lips—trying desperately to get into the confines of my room before a sob breaks through.

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