Page 27 of This Kind of Forever
“And I’m paying more rent,” I add. It’s one thing to sleep on Clara’s couch for a couple weeks, but we’re talking about a longer term situation here. I’d be living inside hishouse.
He frowns. “We’ll talk about it.”
I take a moment to think. Can I really do this? Staying in Gabe’s backyard has been hard enough, but living just down the hall? I’m not so sure I’ll survive it. I can’t exactly say no, though. The guesthouse belongs to him, and if he doesn’t want me out there, I have no grounds to argue.
“Alright,” I relent. “I’ll move inside.”
He smiles in relief. “Thank you.”
We continue eating, settling into silence. For once, it isn’t uncomfortable. Maybe things are starting to go back to normal. Like before. Which should be a good thing, but I can’t help the small seed of disappointment that sprouts from the thought.
I’ve just gotten off my stool to wash my plate when Abbie bounds into the kitchen. She’s still wearing her pajamas, and some of her hair is sticking out of her braid.
“Morning, Abbs,” Gabe says.
She beams. “Morning!”
I’ve never met a kid who likes mornings as much as she does. I wake up because I have to, not because I want to.
She sets herself up in her chair at the kitchen table. Gabe leaves his plate on the island and joins her. “I’ve got something to tell you. Hallie is going to live inside the house for a while. That okay with you?”
She looks up at her dad. “She’s moving in with us?”
“Yes, she’s moving in with us.”
She shrugs as she kicks her legs beneath the table. “Okay.”
After Gabe gets Abbie some breakfast and she finishes eating, he offers to help me bring my stuff inside. Thankfully, I haven’t fully unpacked yet. I wanted to finish more of the projects we have planned before I truly settled in.
Quickly, I get dressed and ready for the day, throwing my hair into a bun. Then Gabe and I haul our first load up the stairs. When we get to the guest room, which is at the opposite end of the hallway to Gabe’s bedroom, he flicks on the light.
The room truly is a blank slate. The walls are a shade of white a real estate agent would salivate over, and the bed doesn’t have any sheets on it. It looks to be the same size as the one out in the guesthouse, though, so my comforter should fit perfectly.
“Clara is the only person who’s ever stayed in here,” Gabe explains. “I wouldn’t put it past her to have left some clothes behind, but it should be empty otherwise.”
I set my box on the end of the bed. “Thank you. You really don’t have to do any of this for me.”
“I want to, Hallie.” He pulls something from his pocket. A key, I realize. To hishouse. “For you.”
I reach for it, but my stomach does a little dip when I notice the colour. “It’s purple.” The metal feels cool against my skin. “When did you get this? You didn’t just have this lying around as a spare.”
“I had it cut last week.”
My eyes search his. “What? Why?”
He doesn’t look away. “I wanted you to know that I’d always be here, if you needed me. And I didn’t want anything to stand in your way, even something as simple as a lock.”
The admission leaves me breathless. I feel like that girl who stood on the beach and let her fears override her heart. She couldn’t speak when words mattered most, so I don’t have a hope in hell of recovering now.
“You can start unpacking,” Gabe says. “I’ll grab the rest of your stuff.”
I’m still clutching the key when he leaves the room. The grooves in the metal have left small indents in my palm.
I am officially in way over my head.
ELEVEN
HALLIE
