Page 64 of If This is Love

“And don’t fucking ruin my awesome life by doing something stupid, and you know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

I did know what he was talking about, and he’d always been the reason I wouldn’t ever do something like that no matter how bad it got. I turned to look him dead in the eyes. “I won’t.”

And I wouldn’t. But as soon as I got inside my house, I was going to take as many of my meds as I could without killing myself, and hopefully, I’d sleep long enough for everyone, myself included, to forget today even happened.

Unfortunately, even a lifetime of sleep couldn’t undo what I did today. Nothing could.

17

RUTH

ALGIERS POINT, NEW ORLEANS

“Ireally do understand, Ruth,” Emma said over the phone. “If anyone understands what was happening to him, it’s me. I’ve done exactly that and worse.” She paused for a moment, and I shifted the phone, pulling it away from my ear and putting it on speaker so I could set it on the counter. “I slapped Austin once.”

I found a lid for the casserole dish and started to cover the shrimp and grits I’d been cooking all morning. “Well, two wrongs don’t make a—”

“One time,” she said with an edge of drama, “I scratched his face. Like,badly.”

I furrowed my brow as I pressed the edges of the lid to seal the dish. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was. It wasawful. So I understand Gabe. I understand him a lot more than any of you are giving me credit for.” Emma paused again. “Austin’s over here saying he wants to abandon this whole thing or never let me around Gabe again, but I’ll handle him.”

Austin said something in the background that I couldn’t quite make out, and Emma clicked her tongue. “Stop that. That’s your own male pride, and you need to swallow it. I can handle this situation.”

I sighed discontentedly, and there was a muffled sound like the two were kissing and making up on the other end of the phone.

“Anyway, if you talk to him, let him know I get it, but that we do need to come to some kind of understanding.” Emma paused and exhaled a sigh that matched mine. “Maybe we can have a meeting or something where we get back to the heart of this project. Because honestly, what I can draw from that confrontation is that he probably knows a hell of a lot more about what those women have been through than any of us do. I think he was there right in the middle of the worst parts of that. The timeline makes sense. Because of that, he knows things that we all need to know if we’re going to accommodate these women in a way that’ll make their recovery more effective. So I need to talk to him about it. So do you. So does Skye.”

I closed my eyes and shuddered, unable to imagine the sheer magnitude of trauma and tragedy poor Gabe had probably experienced. “Yeah. Yeah, I think meeting somewhere to just talk would be good for everybody. I’m about to go check on him, and I’ll mention it. I know he feels just awful about everything.”

“Sadly, I know he does becauseagain,” she said dramatically as though she was underscoring her point for Austin, “I’ve been there and done exactly all of that. I’d love to be able to have this conversation with him because I think we would understand each other. So just let me know when works for everybody, and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you so much, Emma,” I said. “And I’ll be in touch about it. Y’all enjoy your day, okay?”

“Thanks. You, too.”

I tapped the button to end the call and sighed as I cast a glance behind me at Jax, who was sitting, obedient and attentive, in the kitchen and obviously hoping I’d drop a piece of shrimp.

“You had your lunch, baby boy,” I told him with a smile. “Maybe if you behave during our little visit, I’ll give you a little something when we get back.”

He gave me a wide doggy grin and thumped his tail on the tile floor.

“Now, I’m going to put this in the car first and then come back and get you. Can you be good for me?”

He woofed.

I chuckled. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

It felt a little silly driving basically around and up the block to Gabe’s house, but I didn’t exactly trust Jax enough to walk him while holding a hot casserole dish. Nevertheless, he behaved himself, staying at my heel all the way up the porch, and sat nicely while I knocked and we waited.

A few moments later, Gabe pulled open the door.

And he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Andhe waswet.

Like he’d literally just stepped out of the shower, hair damp and spiking in random directions and wearing loose, black basketball shorts, which clung to his hulking, solid legs.

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