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The silence in his car now is suffocating. There’s so much I want to say, want to ask, but I’m too scared. My head and heart are stuck in two different places. Stuck between ruining mine and my family’s life, again, if I don’t do as Patrick says, and hurting myself and maybe Brad in the process, because the fact he can’t even look at me tells me he is struggling with something just as much as me.

He pulls up outside my apartment building and puts the car in park, never releasing his firm grip on the steering wheel as he looks out the windscreen, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I say quietly, twisting the bangle on my wrist that hasn’t been removed since he put it there.

“You’re welcome.”

“Why did you come and rescue me?” I ask, not sure if I really want to know the answer. I didn’t tell him about the man in the parking lot. I didn’t see the need to worry him. He turns to face me, and it’s then I see the pain in his eyes. They look hollow and empty, all the light in them gone. He looks like a man haunted, and I want to take away whatever is causing him this pain.

“You called, so I came.”

I tilt my head, willing him to elaborate. He lets out an exasperated breath and runs his hand along his jaw. “Gabriella, it doesn’t matter who you’re with, if we haven’t spoken in months, years, or if you hate me. I will always answer your call.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, praying I don’t break down.

“If you call, then I run to you. It’s as simple as that.” He turns back to look out the windscreen, and I scoop up my bags, needing to break free from this car. It’s too much, my emotions, my guilt, my pain.

“Goodbye,” I manage to say before closing the car door and walking towards my apartment, feeling his eyes on me with every step I take and it takes what little strength I have left not toturn around and beg him to take me home with him while I tell him everything.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Gabriella

“… do you agree?” The stylist’s words startle me as I had zoned out while she was doing my hair.

“I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?”

“I suggested we leave your hair down. It’s so beautiful, it feels a shame to hide it all in an updo.”

I nod. “Sure, whatever you think is best.”

My mom is in the chair beside me, her hair in rollers, having her makeup done. Mine has been done—minimal, just the way my mother likes it.

“Oh, please put it up. It will get in her way,” my mother chimes in.

My mouth flattens and I want to scream that it’s my hair. But, of course, I don’t. The stylist matches my expression in the mirror.

“How about we go half and half?” she says quietly, pulling back pieces and creating a style that I really like. I glance over at my mother, who gives me the nod of approval, so I signal for the stylist to continue.

I didn’t like leaving Ali earlier. She still hasn’t got out of bed and it’s been five days now. She’s not been in work all week and that’s so unlike her. We have Brad’s birthday this weekend and Ria called earlier, asking if Ali was well enough to go. I’m torn between wanting to go and not. I want to see him, yet I don’t.

I reach for my phone and send a text to Ali and then Ria.

Gabriella

Hey, babe, are you feeling okay? I’m going to try and leave this event early and come home. xx

Gabriella

Hey, Ri, I hope that little bump has eased up and stopped making you feel so sick. I’m worried about Ali, and I’m at this stupid dinner with my parents. Could you check in on her? xx

My message to Ali still hasn’t been seen, but I breathe a sigh of relief when Ria texts back.

Ria

Hey, sure thing. I’ll stop by later and bring her some soup, so don’t worry, I got her G enjoy your night, and no, baby Lawson will not let me eat anything except graham crackers and apples. xx

“Okay, all done,” the stylist chimes. I look into the mirror as she holds a smaller one so I can see the back of my hair, she’s twisted pieces and curled them and they hang down my back like a vine of wild ivy.