Page 46 of Where She Belongs
I should pull away. We’re at my daughter’s rehearsal dinner, surrounded by family and friends. But the taste of him, the feel of his arms around me, the rightness of this moment overpowers any sense of propriety.
My hands slide up his chest to link behind his neck, drawing him closer as I return the kiss with equal fervor. A small sound escapes me—part sigh, part moan—and I feel his smile against my lips before he deepens the kiss further, stealing what little breath I have left.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, I’m vaguely aware that the music has changed, the tempo shifting to something faster. But neither of us moves to rejoin the main dance floor.
“That wasn’t for show,” Gabe says, his forehead resting against mine, his voice rough with emotion. “None of this is for show anymore, Andie. Not for me.”
The confession I’ve both longed for and feared wraps around my heart, squeezing tight. “Gabe, we can’t?—”
“Why not?” he challenges gently. “Give me one reason why not, besides the fact that you’re scared.”
“I am scared,” I admit, the truth forcing its way past my defenses. “I’m terrified. You’re younger, you’re?—”
“If you say I’m some kind of playboy, I might actually get offended,” he interrupts, though his tone remains gentle. “You know me better than that.”
“I know you don’t do long-term,” I counter, voicing the fear that’s plagued me since this morning. “I know your dating history, Gabe. I’ve watched you cycle through relationships for years.”
He winces slightly, but doesn’t pull away. “I deserve that,” he admits. “But there’s a reason none of those relationships ever worked.”
“Which is?”
Gabe’s eyes—those expressive dark eyes that have always been able to see through my carefully constructed walls—search mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless.
“Because I couldn’t commit to someone when my heart was already taken,” he says simply. “I tried to. They were smart, beautiful, ambitious—everything I thought I wanted. But they weren’t...”
“Weren’t what?” I prompt when he trails off.
“They weren’t you.”
The words land like a physical touch, soft yet powerful, breaking through the last of my defenses. I stare at him, searching for any sign of insincerity, any hint that this is just another line, another role he’s playing. But all I see is raw honesty, vulnerability laid bare.
“How long?” I whisper, not trusting my voice with more.
He gives a rueful smile. “I don’t know. Years, probably. But I pushed it down, convinced myself it was just friendship, respect, professional admiration. You were married. You were my mentor. You were...”
“Safe,” I finish for him, understanding dawning. “As long as you kept me in that box labeled ‘friend,’ you didn’t have to risk anything.”
“And neither did you,” he counters gently.
The observation hits with startling accuracy. Have I been using our friendship as a shield too? Keeping Gabe at a specific distance where I could have his presence, his support, his companionship without risking my heart? Didn’t I drop everything when he got into that accident three years ago, the one that prompted Daniel Drexel to broach the topic of investing in his practice so Gabe wouldn’t have to moonlight at otherclinics just to earn extra money? I saw his patients for a week, until the doctor okayed him to return to work. I didn’t have to, but I did.
“I’m not Simon,” Gabe continues, his voice low and intent. “I won’t betray you. I won’t leave when things get hard. I won’t dismiss your work or your dreams.”
“I know that,” I say, because I do. Whatever else is uncertain between us, Gabe’s loyalty, his integrity, has never been in question.
“But?” he prompts, hearing the unspoken reservation in my voice.
“But what if this ruins everything?” The fear that’s been lurking beneath the surface finally emerges. “What if we try and it doesn’t work, and we lose ten years of friendship in the process?”
His expression softens. “What if it does work? What if we’ve been circling each other all this time, waiting for the right moment, and this is it?” His thumb traces my lower lip, sending a shiver through me. “What if all the women I couldn’t commit to, all the relationships you couldn’t make yourself try for after Simon, were just preparing us for this?”
It’s a beautiful thought—the idea that all our missteps and false starts were leading us here, to this moment, to each other. But life isn’t a fairy tale, and happy endings aren’t guaranteed.
“I can’t lose you, Gabe,” I admit, the truth raw and painful. “Not after everything else I’ve lost.”
“You won’t,” he promises, pressing his forehead to mine. “Whatever happens between us, you will never lose me. That’s a promise I can actually keep.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice cuts through our bubble of intimacy.
