Page 80 of If You Stayed

Why do you have to be so…you?

My hands began to sweat as panic filled me up from within. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I pushed myself away from the cabinet drawer, locked eyes with Gabriel’s perplexed stare, shook my head, and marched out of the room. I needed air. I needed space. I needed him.

Oh, how I needed him more than he’d ever know, and I couldn’t keep going on as if he wasn’t the biggest part of my life for the longest time.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” Gabriel asked as he followed me down the secluded hallway. I turned to face him, and the puzzlement in his eyes made me feel awful. “Did I… I’m sorry. I should’ve never said that, Kierra. It was inappropriate and—”

“We were best friends,” I blurted out.

He froze in place and blinked a few times before arching an eyebrow. “I’m sorry…what?”

I gestured back and forth between him and me. “We were best friends. You and me. Me and you. We were best friends for the longest time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When we were kids. And teens. And…” I took in a deep breath. “We were each other’s everything.”

His brows knit together and he shook his head. “Bullshit.”

“It’s true.”

“For how long?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long were we friends?”

I blinked and shook my head. “Since a little before your father passed away.”

“You knew my father?”

“I loved your father.”

The pain in his eyes sliced straight through my heart. I couldn’t imagine what his thoughts were. Oh my gosh, what was I doing? Why did I confess to him about our past? Why did I find the need to open that can of worms and unleash it on him? I just couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t feel everything he felt, like I didn’t see him the same way he’d been seeing me. It was all becoming too much.

“When did we stop being friends?” he asked me.

I swallowed hard. “After the accident.”

“You knew about the accident?”

I caused the accident.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I did.”

His brows knit and he appeared annoyed with whatever thoughts were clouding his head. I wished I could read his mind. I didn’t know what it was like in his head. In the past, I could read all the thoughts of the boy I fell in love with. Nowadays with this new man, it felt almost impossible to know what he was thinking.

“You’re confused and upset,” I commented.

“It’s fine,” he huffed, seeming angry.

“Gabriel. Please. I get that you’re angry with me—”

“I’m not angry with you,” he spat out.

I stood taller, somewhat shocked. “You’re not angry with me?”

“No.” He brushed his thumb against the bridge of his nose as he looked away from me. “I just don’t get it.”