Page 32 of Ours to Lose
Gabe’s eyes crinkled at the corners with his grin. “He’s definitely all for it.” His voice took on a sad note. “Mom would have been excited too.”
My smile softened as I pictured it. “She’d already have this place polished. Would probably have her favorite boxing photos of yours printed and framed for you to hang on the walls.”
He snorted. “Only most of them would have been from before I even went pro. Me as a fifteen-year-old about to get clocked in the face because my hands weren’t up.”
“Being able to see your face is what she would have loved about it.”
He shook his head, a wistful smile on his lips. “It sucks not having her here to see it.”
The sorrow in his eyes was the same shade of longing as when Nana wasn’t there to attend Ardena’s soft opening or see me as the head chef of a new catering venture. That deep yearning to have the people you loved most there for special moments, and the bottomless gap that opened in your heart at knowing they couldn’t be.
I leaned into him, offering a hug. “I know.” Nothing I said could fill that gap. It’d been six years since my grandma died, and I still felt it every day.
He circled his arm around me, drawing me against him so my cheek rested on his shoulder. It happened naturally, as if we’d done it dozens of times before. I let my weight sink into him, and his other hand came up to brush a stray hair from my forehead.
Being in his arms felt safe. Simple. Like whatever heartaches or toils the real world had for me couldn’t touch me within the warmth of his embrace. Like for this moment, I could let it all go.
It was the feeling of safety my grandma had provided me. One that was harder to find now that she was gone.
I breathed through the ache of missing her and focused on the coziness of Gabe’s clean scent. “I’m glad you’re home,” I said.
His arm tightened around me. “Me too.”
“Thank you for showing me this place.”
My voice must have given me away because he squeezed my side again. “You okay?” he asked softly.
I nodded.
We sat in silence, wrapped together on the edge of the mat, giving and taking comfort. Comfort I hadn’t let myself admit I needed before now. The same was probably true for him.
“I miss them,” I finally whispered, thinking of his mom and Nana.
Three minuscule words attempting to convey a galaxy’s worth of emptiness.
They were the only words I had.
“I do too,” he said.
We held each other a few minutes longer, remembering.
Chapter Seven
Gabe
It was easierto be at my parents’ house during the day as if the memories it carried only sharpened their edges enough to pierce my skin at night. Right now, with the sun out and shining through the kitchen windows as I filled a glass from the faucet, it almost felt like any other house. Just a countertop and cabinets instead of where my mom had made me early dinners as a kid on weekdays before practices. Always something simple, like frozen chicken tenders with broccoli or mac and cheese with hot dogs, because she’d never been as good a cook as my dad, but she’d wanted me to have home-cooked meals, and practice started before he got home.
I was glad Dad had gone with takeout last night after I’d shown Aubrey the gym. Seeing him in the kitchen without Mom peeking around his arm and asking what he was doing would have stabbed deep.
Maybe for him too. More frozen meals filled the freezer than fresh ingredients did the fridge. I knew he still cooked on holidays, but maybe more than that was too painful.
“What are you doing here?”
I held in my sigh and turned off the tap. Maybe one day, that wouldn’t be the first thing my brother said to me.
He glared at me from the doorway.
“Dad invited me over.”
