Page 23 of Where She Belongs
“It’s the twenty-first century, Andie,” he says, shrugging. “If we didn’t go viral, then we didn’t do it right.”
I chuckle. “Well, we certainly did it right then.”
Gabe turns to face me fully, his expression suddenly serious. “Look, Andie, I know this isn’t ideal. But I meant what I said at the airport. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”
“Even if that means facing the Spanish Inquisition at breakfast?” I joke weakly. “Just... remember we’re keeping things casual. No need to oversell it.”
“Got it. Casual but convincing.” He winks, and my stomach does that flip again. “So, do I get to hold your hand under the table?’
“Of course,” I reply. “Speaking of holding hands, we should talk about–”
My phone beeps with an incoming call.
“It’s Tristy,” I say before answering the call.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt you, guys,” she says. But everyone’s at the restaurant already.”
“Ten minutes,” I say, noting the stress on my daughter’s voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, just the usual wedding stuff. Floral arrangements all wrong and all that. Dad and Kitty doing their usual PDA in front of the cameras.” She pauses. “Oh, I should give you fair warning before you and Gabe come down.”
“What warning?”
“Tita Linda brought up your fertility window at the spa yesterday, so... good luck with that!” She chuckles. “Anyway, I need to go. See you in ten.”
After she hangs up, I turn to Gabe with horror. “My fertility window?”
His laugh, though strained, breaks some of the tension. “Don’t worry. I’ll rescue you before they start planning our hypothetical babies.”
“Our hypothetical babies?” The words come out strangled. “Gabe, what did I get you into?”
“Hey.” He steps closer, his hand grasping mine. “We’ve got this. Just follow my lead, okay?”
The resort’s breakfast pavilion is already bustling when we arrive. I spot my parents immediately, seated with my aunts Joy and Linda at a table overlooking the beach. Three pairs of eyes lock onto Gabe and me as we approach, their scrutiny almost palpable.
“Remember,” I whisper to Gabe, “this is just for show. Nothing crazy.”
“Define crazy,” he murmurs back, his hand finding the small of my back in what’s becoming a familiar gesture. I tell myself it’s just part of our act, even as I notice the warmth of his palm through my sundress.
“Andrea! Gabe!” Mom waves us over enthusiastically. “We saved you seats!”
As we reach the table, my aunts’ eyes travel from my face to where Gabe’s hand rests on my back, their expressions a mix of curiosity and barely concealed excitement. Great. The Filipino-American auntie network is fully activated.
“Good morning,” I say, leaning down to kiss my mother’s cheek before taking the seat Gabe pulls out for me. Such a simple gesture, but it makes my aunts exchange meaningful glances.
“So,” Tita Joy begins before we’ve even settled, “I hear you two are dating now. How long?”
“Three months,” Gabe answers smoothly as he sits beside me, his thigh brushing mine under the table. I resist the urge to shift away, reminding myself that couples don’t flinch at casual contact.
I reach for a croissant, focusing on tearing it into neat sections rather than on how easily Gabe slips into the role of attentive boyfriend. “We wanted to keep it private while we figured things out.”
“Figured what out?” Tita Linda asks, stirring her coffee with unnecessary vigor. “The age difference?”
“Linda,” my mother warns, but it’s too late.
“Andrea, I just don’t understand,” Tita Linda continues. “You’re forty-three. Your fertility window is?—”
“Actually,” Gabe interrupts smoothly, “we haven’t discussed children yet.” His eyes meet mine, a silent apology for speaking on my behalf, but I’m grateful for the rescue. “We’re still getting to know each other in this new context.”
