Page 21 of If This is Love

“That really sucks for him,” he said, sounding like he was really empathizing with poor Jax while he applied ointment to my knee. “But it’s good that he got you and you got him. Dogs are better than people.”

“You think dogs are better than people?”

“Theyarebetter than people.” He huffed. “Dogs are loyal. Most people aren’t.”

I lifted one shredded palm at the shelves. “I bet most people youknowareloyal.”

“Most people I know are loyal,” he agreed, but the silentbutat the end of his statement was nearly audible.

“Except for someone who was extremelydisloyal,” I guessed. “Right?”

Gabe met my gaze with a long, hard stare and a storm in his silver eyes. “Right.”

Ohhhhh… that’s what it was. That’s why he waskind of a grouch sometimesaccording to him. It wasn’tjustwhatever injury I couldn’t see. It was thatpluswhatever this disloyal person had done.

“So who was it?”

He cleared his throat loudly. “My ex-wife.”

“Oh.” My expression fell into a frown so quickly that I could feel it. I’d assumed it was a falling out between him and one of his friends or brothers-in-arms. The idea that he had orused to havea wife hadn’t even occurred to me. That was even more mortifying than accidentally flirting with him. It also made the accidental flirting feel that much morewrong. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

He hitched a shoulder, smoothing a bandage onto my knee. “I’d rather just have a dog anyway.”

“Me too,” I agreed automatically but then hastily added, “I mean, not that I wouldn’t rather still have my husband. But since I can’t, I’m happy to have Jax.”

“Hmph.”

That was all he said, and it came out salty enough that the persistent pang rattled my heart. I knew his saltiness had nothing to do with me, but the topic of marriage not panning out the way you hoped would always hurt. So I just stared at my shredded palms and briefly escaped into my mind.

And in my mind, I saw my former home, myself on my former sofa with injured hands, and Michael sitting in front of me, cupping my hand in his palm and gently kissing the wound after he’d bandaged me up.

Back in reality, Gabe had cleaned up my other knee and affixed another bandaid. “In that case,” he picked up after an extended pause, “I’d guess your husband was probably not anywhere near as disloyal as my wife was.”

“He wasn’t disloyal at all. He was wonderful.” I swallowed the ache in my throat and my heart and looked at Gabe. “He was young, but he was a great man of integrity who was selfless, loving, and the best husband I could’ve hoped for. It was the greatest honor of my life to be married to him.”

Gabe smoothed the edge of the bandaid one last time, and then he gave me a pointed stare, asking gruffly, “Then why aren’t you still married to him?”

I lifted my shoulders and listlessly let them fall. “He passed away about seven years ago. If he hadn’t, I’d still be married to him. In my heart, I still am.”

The sharp, disapproving look he was giving me quickly melted off his face, and his eyes were a little wider for a heartbeat or two. “I didn’t know that.”

I smiled despite so many aching things. “I know you didn’t. We just met. It’s okay.”

“I know, but…” His lips were parted like he was trying to find his next words, but they didn’t come for a couple seconds. He looked down and then back up at me. “I’m sorry you lost a good man like that.”

I kept my smile and shrugged again. “Me too. And he wassucha good man.” I shook my head absently. “I loved everything about him.”

Gabe lowered his face again, turning to rifle through the first aid kit and pull out a few more items. I looked beyond his shoulder to Jax, who was now deep in a dream, intermittently flinching his closed eyes while still curled up on the rug.

I wondered if he dreamed of his family like I did.

Gabe carefully took hold of my left wrist and drew it closer to him, and I slid my eyes to my hand. He cupped it in his palm exactly the way I’d just imagined Michael doing and leaned forward enough to rest his forearm on my knee.

His rugged thumb lay across the pads of my fingers as he dabbed the heel of my palm with wet gauze. A smarting sensation zinged from one particularly bad part of the scrape, and I flinched again. Gabe didn’t kiss my palm like I’d just imagined Michael had done, but he did slowly stroke his thumb back and forth over my fingers, and something about it felt the same. My heart throbbed with the deep ache of bittersweetness.

“Sounds like he was a lucky man,” Gabe said, his voice much softer, almost like he was timid to say it.

“Ibelieve he felt blessed to have me.” Even if the eldersdidn’t. “I know he felt that way. I felt that way. We were blessed.”

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