Page 108 of A Lot Like Adiós
He’d been determined to prove them wrong. And now look where he was.
“How was it in New York?” Fabian asked, breaking into his thoughts. “With your dad and your girl.”
Gabe shook his head. “She’s not my girl.”
The words felt wrong to him. Some part of Michelle belonged to him, just as part of him would always belong to her. Not in some weird possessive way, but in a way formed by entwined life experiences. Twelve years’ worth of childhood memories weren’t nothing. And now, he had a week’s worth that had shown him how his life could have been if things had been different. If he hadn’t made the choices he had.
But things weren’t different. They had their own lives, far apart from each other, and his was in such disarray, he couldn’t conceive of dragging Michelle any further into this mess.
“Not your girl, huh?” Fabian raised an eyebrow. “That’s not how it looked in that video.”
Gabe’s gaze snapped to him. “What video?”
“I fell down an Instagram rabbit hole one night at the hospital. Trying to keep my mind off worrying, you know? Anyway, I saw a video of the two of you dancing. Here, I saved it and meant to send it to you with some shit-talking, but I forgot.”
“Dancing?”
Fabian pulled out his phone and Gabe got up to look over his shoulder as his friend scrolled through countless pictures of swaddled bundles.
“Are those the twins?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, aren’t they perfect?”
Fabian tapped on a picture of the twins immediately after birth, which Gabe could have done without, but he just said, “They’re beautiful. Can’t wait to see them when they’re awake.”
“Heads up, Iris is going to ask you to be the godfather.”
“No shit?” Gabe rocked back on his heels, stunned by the honor they were bestowing on him. “I—yeah. Of course. Wait, what do you mean by that, exactly? My own godfather would have been my legal guardian if something happened to my parents.”
Fabian frowned at the phone as he continued scrolling. “Not like that—our families would fight you for custody, and I know you don’t want kids. Just like a special uncle-type person.”
This conversation had taken a completely unexpected turn and Gabe didn’t know how to keep up. “Good. I mean, yeah, I’d be happy to be a tío to them.”
“Make sure you act surprised when Iris brings it up. Ah, here it is.” With a note of triumph, Fabian held up the phone and hit play. A shaky video showed Gabe dancing bachata with Michelle, their bodies glued together and their hips swaying and thrusting in a way that was inappropriate for even a Latinx family birthday party.
Gabe grabbed the phone and replayed the video again. And again. And again.
Shit, no wonder their families had been so obnoxious at the barbecue. He might as well have gotten down on one knee and proposed in the middle of the damned dance floor. That dance was adeclaration.
He played it again. They looked so fucking good together. Theywereso fucking good together. She saw him in a way no one else ever had or probably would.
His heart hurt at being away from her. But he had a business to sell, and next steps to figure out.
What the hell was he going to do with the rest of his life?
“You sure she’s not your girl?” Fabian asked mildly.
Gabe texted the video to himself. “I’m sure.”
“Whatever you say, dude.” Fabian took his phone back. “Now, about the gym...”
With a heavy exhale, Gabe threw up his hands. “Fuck it. Let’s sell.”
His friend gave him a long look, then nodded. “All right, I believe you.”
“Believe me? About what?”
“That you want to sell. You didn’t think I’d let you do it unless you really wanted to, did you?”
