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“I was seventeen. She was thirteen.”

Monica swallowed.Not a truth, she reminded herself, even as her stomach felt hollowed out with a pounding panic that made her think she might throw up.

“She was naked.”

She tried to suck in a breath, because with breathing, she could focus.Not a truth. Not a truth. He’d phrased that all very carefully, hadn’t he?Withhis daughter. Ages. That didn’t mean…

No, it didn’t mean. She raised her chin, leveled him with her best neutral-therapist expression. “Were you?”

“What?”

“Were you naked?”

His jaw hardened, his eyes narrowing. But after so many ticking seconds, he shook his head.

Relief coursed through her. “Were you touching her? Did you ever touch her while she was naked?”

Again, he paused, looking more and more furious. “No,” he ground out. “I had just walked in the room, but—”

“So you walked in the room. She was naked. Were you physically attracted to her? Did you want to have sex with her? Did you—”

He turned away. “Stop.”

“You brought this up, so I’d say they’re fair questions. Was there ever touching? Heavy pet—”

“She was my sister!” he exploded. “She wasfourwhen my mother married Evan. Four and sweet and… I used to sing her lullabies when she had bad dreams. I was her brother in every way that should ever count. But Evan used her. He twisted her to think there was something more or different, so she… She was too young to know what she was doing, to know Evan was using her.” He breathed heavily now, chest heaving, fists clenching, and it physically hurt to watch him work through all that. Lock it down, put it away, erase all those explosive feelings inside of him until she couldn’t see them.

But they were still there. They’d always be there.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to stop loving you?” she asked quietly.

“You wouldn’t, would you?” he murmured, not looking at her but some spot on the wall behind her. She should have been ecstatic at his words, but something in his expression only made her feel uneasy. Then he was advancing on her, and she felt herself scrambling back because there was a menace in his gaze she didn’t understand. Didn’t think she ever would.

“You’d love me no matter what. Understand. Absolve. You would stand by me, no matter the cost.”

“I would,” she whispered.

“With a few exceptions.”

“N—”

“Colin. Your job. You see, I know what it’s like to play second fiddle to other things. Always. She loved him better. Everyone loved him better, bigger, and he sucked it all up until there was nothing left for me.”

“Evan isn’t here.”

“No, but he’s here.” Gabe patted his chest, and she wanted to argue with him. “He warped me, shaped me. I am who I am because of him.”

“You are who you are in spite of that monster.”

“You’d like to think that. Hell, I’d like to think that.” He looked down at her, and she realized now why she couldn’t figure out this expression. It was too many things: fury and pain, blankness and calm certainty. His eyes glittered, but his mouth was relaxed in surety. “You’re right, you know. I do.”

“You…you do what?”

“I love you.”

“Gabe.” His name whooshed out of her, and she moved for him, but he held out a hand, and that bubble of hope burst. Quick and painful.

“But I don’t want this. You or love or a life with your kid. I don’twantit. I don’t want to love you, and I really don’t want you to love me. I want nothing to do with your future. I won’t be that little boy again, and love would make me.”