Page 111 of This Kind of Forever

I don’t look back.

The familiar numbness sets in on my drive home. Every disappointment, every failed visit from my mother has prepared me well for this. The only way to get over these feelings is to ice them out. So that’s what I do.

Or what I try to do anyway.

Confidence is a finicky thing. I used every ounce of it back at that house, and now that it’s gone, there’s room for self-doubt to come trickling in. My mother’s voice isn’t far behind.

Amanda Foster hasn’t come out of life unscathed. But instead of owning her issues, confronting them, she blames them all on Pops. On the men she’s been with. On me. And after years of internalizing that, it’s hard to separate her opinions from the truth.

In a daze, I pull into the driveway behind Gabe’s truck. Thankfully, Clara will be swinging by later to pick her car up. If I had to see her right now, she would definitely know something is wrong, and I don’t have the energy to convince her I’m alright. It’s bad enough I’ll have to face Gabe so soon after that epic showdown.

I shut the front door quietly behind me, hoping Gabe doesn’t hear. I need another moment to compose myself. But when I hear his footsteps coming down the hall, I silently curse.

“Hi, beautiful,” he says, and even that hurts.

Everythinghurts.

“Hi,” I reply. Despite how much I try to mask it, that one syllable is fraught with despair.

As it turns out, telling the truth isn’t enough to wash away the guilt. The shame. I feel dirty for letting him pull me into his arms, like I’m still using him.

He starts kissing me, and I try—I try so hard to kiss him back. But I feel hollow, like my soul has been sucked from my body. Every movement feels robotic.

Men don’t stay with women like us.

Gabe draws back, his brows furrowed. Concern mars his handsome face. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, trying to pull his mouth back to mine. “Nothing,” I lie. All I do islie.

He doesn’t let me get far. “Hallie, I can tell you’re not with me right now. What’s going on?”

Tears spring to my eyes. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I know you had plans for us and?—”

“Hey.” He cups my cheek, brushing away a tear that manages to fall. “I don’t want you toeverfeel like you need to have sex with me if you’re not up for it. I love spending time with you, Foster. It doesn’t matter what we do.”

Doubt still swirls in my mind. “Are you sure? I’m sorry. I can?—”

“Hallie, baby, no more apologies. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.” Gabe’s arm drops from my waist, and he grabs my hand. “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to sit on the couch and watch a movie. And later, if you feel like it, you can tell me what has you thinking so hard over there.”

I think my feet carry me to the living room, but it feels like I’m floating the whole time. Gabe nudges me to sit in my usual spot on the sectional, and then he drapes a blanket over my lap. My fingers curl into the plush material as I watch him turn the TV on and queue up our movie. When10 Things I Hate About Youstarts playing, my eyes burn.

The last time we watched this together was the night of my eighteenth birthday party. I had never been happier to ditch Clara and our classmates in favour of curling up against Gabe’s side.

Now as he settles beside me, I feel terrible for the comfort he brings me. For the plans I ruined. Gabe already doesn’t get to spend as much time with his daughter as he’d like. She’s staying with her grandparents tonight because he wanted to be alone with me, and now he can’t even do what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He places a kiss on the crown of my head. “I’m not. I’m living eighteen-year-old Gabe’s dream right now. Couldn’t be happier if I tried.”

I look up at him, skeptical. “Your dream was to watch movies with me?”

“No, Foster. My dream was to call you mine.”

Mine.