Page 9 of Where She Belongs (A Different Kind of Love #3)

FIVE

The moment Gabe and I cross the room toward them, my mother doesn’t waste any time, hooking her arm through mine and steering me toward the private garden patio as one of Tyler’s uncles snags Gabe.

“Why didn’t you tell us you and Gabe are dating?” she asks as Dad follows behind us, his hands stuffed into his pants pockets, looking ready for a tropical vacation in his white Hawaiian shirt with its hibiscus design than an interrogation.

“It was too soon to tell anyone,” I say, catching a glimpse of Gabe through the glass doors in conversation with Tyler’s uncle. When he throws me a concerned look, I wave him off.

I can handle this.

“But he has a reputation, anak,” she says, her brow creased with worry as she grabs my fingers. “He dates a different woman a week, di ba? You told me that yourself.”

“That was a long time ago, and he’s changed.

” Besides, with how busy Gabe is these days, even I know he couldn’t possibly see one woman a week like he used to.

Maybe once every two weeks. Three, if he were to stretch it.

Hell, he made it to six months with Courtney and that was a record. He’s slowed down since.

“Didn’t his cousin call him Dr. Lova Lova for once dating three women at the same time?” Dad asks, his shoes scuffing against the stone tiles as he paces the small patio.

Claudia Romero is Gabe’s cousin who worked in Gabe’s clinic when he first opened until she left for physical therapy school in Philadelphia a few years ago.

She and her mother moved in with Gabe’s family when she was ten, after her father, a security guard, was killed in a botched robbery. “I’m sure she was joking.”

Only she wasn’t. Gabe really did date three women at the same time once.

“In that case,” Dad says as he stops to adjust a potted orchid. “Has he been… tested for STDs?”

“Dad!” I hiss, finally releasing my hands from Mom’s grip. “I can’t believe you’re asking me that.”

“Why not? I’m only being a concerned father, anak. He’s handsome and all that… matalino, too,” he says. Intelligent. “But he still has a reputation.”

“I know him better than you and Mom, and I know he’s…

clean.” The word makes me cringe. Who are they to imply he isn’t anyway?

So he’s got a reputation as a manwhore. But as far as I know, Gabe has never been careless.

After two of his older sisters became single mothers, he vowed to always be careful, as in use protection.

The last thing he wanted was any interruption in his dream of becoming the first doctor in his family, even if it meant staying single until he achieved it.

“We’re just worried about you, anak,” Mom says, her voice softening. She reaches for my hand again, but I step back, crossing my arms over my chest.

“We’re still getting to know each other, Dad,” I say. A warm breeze carries the scent of plumeria, making me dizzy. Or maybe it’s the panic. “It’s not like we’re not getting married or anything.”

Mom gasps, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “What do you mean, you’re not getting married?” Her voice rises enough that a nearby guest glances our way. “You’re forty-three. You have no time to casual date at that age.”

“Of course, I have all the time to casual-date, Mom,” I counter, feeling my frustration mount. “And right now, I’m not looking to rush into anything, especially not marriage.”

Mom’s eyes widen, her lips pressed into a thin line. “But Andrea, you’re not getting any younger. What about giving us more grandchildren?”

I take a deep breath, trying to maintain my composure. “I already have Tristy and I’m happy with my life as it is. If more children happen, great. If not, that’s okay too.”

What they don’t need to know right now is that I do want more children. I was sixteen when I had Tristy and I wouldn’t mind having another one before it’s too late.

Dad steps closer, his expression softening. “I hope you understand where we’re coming from, Andrea. After everything with Simon...”

Maybe it’s the humidity, or the way Mom’s still looking at me like I’m sixteen again, but suddenly I feel trapped. The warm breeze that moments ago carried the sweet scent of plumeria now feels stifling. I take a step back, needing space.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but my relationship with Gabe is between us. We’re both adults, and we’re figuring things out at our own pace.”

Mom opens her mouth to protest, but Dad puts a hand on her shoulder. “Andrea’s right, honey. We need to trust her judgment.”

I shoot him a grateful look, but Mom isn’t quite ready to let it go. “But anak–”

“Mom, I built a successful clinic from nothing. I’ve been featured in medical journals and national newspapers.

I mentor residents. I raised an amazing daughter who’s about to get married.

” I take a deep breath, the scent of plumeria steadying me.

“And yes, I made mistakes. Tristy’s father might have been the school’s bad boy, and yes, he died doing exactly what everyone predicted he would, in an illegal street race before Tristy was born.

But that doesn’t mean I’m still that girl who needs protecting. ”

Through the glass, I spot Gabe now talking to Simon, his jaw tightening at whatever my ex-husband is saying to him. The protective urge to rescue him wars with the need to finish this conversation but I remind myself Gabe can handle himself.

“But his age, anak,” Mom persists. “What will people say?”

I know what she means by ‘people’ and it has nothing to do with our mutual friends like Dax or Harlow, or even the people who saw our viral video.

Mom’s talking about their friends and family back home, people who’ll end up judging her by extension.

But it’s not my responsibility. I might as well be that sixteen year old they sent back to the Philippines hoping no one would find out I’d gotten knocked up.

“What do I care about what they say?” I straighten my spine, channeling every ounce of Dr. Martin confidence. “People will talk anyway, no matter what I do, so I might as well keep living my life.”

She frowns. “But?—”

“I’m not sixteen anymore, Mom. I’ve earned the right to make my own choices now, even if they’re not the ones you’d make for me.

” I soften my voice, reaching for Mom’s hand as I see Gabe finally extracting himself from Simon and heading toward the bar.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to join my date. ”

I find Gabe at the bar, his shoulders rigid as he orders what looks like a double scotch. The moment he spots me, his face softens with relief.

“There you are,” he says, his hand settling on my lower back, warm and steady. “Everything okay with your parents?”

“Better than expected.” I study his face, noting the tension around his eyes. “But I’m more worried about you. What did Simon want?”

Gabe takes a long sip of his scotch. “Oh, you know, just reminiscing about all the family dinners I attended at your house, the holidays, the times I’d show up at your clinic or house unannounced.” His jaw clenches. “Apparently, he’s been ‘connecting the dots’ since our announcement.”

I frown. “What dots?”

“According to him, I’ve been in love with you for years.” Gabe’s laugh sounds forced. “He thinks that’s why I never settled down, why I was always around. He even brought up that Christmas when I drove three hours in a snowstorm just to deliver presents to Tristy.”

I stare at him. “But that was because you knew she wanted that limited edition soccer jersey from her favorite—” I feel the color drain from my face. “What else did he say?”

“That my ‘obvious infatuation’ with you made him uncomfortable. That he always wondered if something was going on between us.” Gabe’s fingers press slightly harder against my back. “That maybe… he wasn’t the only one who broke your marriage vows.”

“He what?!” I lower my voice as I continue, “I need to talk to him?—”

“Andie, can’t you see what he’s doing?” Gabe says through gritted teeth, turning me to face him. “He’s trying to rewrite history to justify what he did. Classic Simon move, and you don’t need to waltz right into his game.”

As I gaze at Gabe’s expression, no longer playful but something fiercer now, more protective, I realize he’s right. I sigh. “Still, you didn’t deserve that interrogation.”

“Neither did you deserve his accusations.” His thumb traces small circles on my back, probably unconsciously, but the gentle motion sends warmth spreading through my dress. I lean into his touch, grateful for the steadying presence.

“You’re right,” I concede, glancing over my shoulder to where Simon stands, engaged in animated conversation with Tyler’s parents. “But I can’t help feeling responsible. If I hadn’t dragged you into this charade…” You’d be hooking up with someone else right now, complication-free, drama-free .

“Hey,” Gabe murmurs, his voice gentle but firm. “It was my idea first, remember? And besides, Simon’s insecurities aren’t your problem anymore.”

“There you are!” Tristy’s voice breaks through the moment like a splash of cold water.

“They’ve finally sorted out the seating arrangements.

You guys are at table one with Tyler’s parents and Lolo and Lola.

” She glances between us, probably noting the tension.

“Dad and Kitty are at table three with Tyler’s aunts. ”

“Very diplomatic,” Gabe says dryly.

“I didn’t want any drama during the welcome toast.” Tristy’s eyes narrow at something across the room. “Speaking of which, we should head to our seats. The wedding planner is giving me the signal.”

“After you,” Gabe says, his hands finding its way to my lower back as we follow Tristy to the main table. It’s a gesture we’ll have to perfect over the next few days, along with all our other couples’ routines especially now that Tristy’s post has gone viral.

When I catch another guest sneaking a photo from across the room with their phone, I wonder if he’s going to post it to his social media.

I can see the caption as clearly as if it’s already on Facebook: Proof that Dr. Andrea Martin really did land herself a much younger man who, up until a few hours ago, had been gloriously and unrepentantly single, probably looking forward to scoring an evening with a flight attendant.

I sigh, thinking this never would have happened if I hadn’t gone back on my word about being a strong, confident, independent woman attending her daughter’s wedding on her own.

But what choice did I have? The moment Simon showed up at the airport with Kitty, the die was cast. I had to take Gabe up on his offer to be my plus-one.

If only Simon stuck to his word about showing up alone. But then, I should have known better. After twelve years of marriage, I should have remembered that Simon’s words always came with fine print.