Page 73 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
“Hunter, slow down. Actually, do you need to sit? You look pale.”
Gabe’s concern for me twists my insides, the guilt heavier than when Caldwell delivered the news.
“Babe…I made you sign divorce papers for nothing. It’s not happening, and I’m so sorry I put you through that.”
Gabe sits for a moment and says nothing. After a moment, he whispers, “So we’re still married now? That won’t end?”
“No. Not unless you want to. But then we’d have to push the wedding back longer because—”
“Hunter.” Gabe grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. I’d avoided eye contact because I hate seeing his heartbreak, but he’s not even sad. “I know you wanted our own day and to cut those ties, but we can still do that. Don’t you get that? We aren’t changing a thing except for a number on the calendar.”
“You’re not mad?”
“How can I be mad when I’m still your husband and I get to relive a day of making you my husband all over? We celebratewhat’s coming. June first is our wedding day, whether the marriage is filed on that day or not. That’s the day we celebrate.”
“I’m sorry I made you hurt, Gabe. I should’ve just paused and let this play out instead of continuing to fight a dead man, but I just wanted this to be all my own.”
Gabe’s gaze softens as he steps closer.
“I’m sorry, too, but I’m still in love with you and still want a wedding with hot dogs and horses and friends.” He hooks his fingers into my belt loops. “I still want you. In any way I can have you.”
Gabe kisses me with the same love and passion I feel every time, and I squish my eyes closed at the swamp of emotion. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you. I’ve fucked up so many times and you’re still here.”
“Funny, I think the same thing about you.”
Remembering the bag in my hand, I step back and push it into his chest. “I got this for you.”
Gabe’s smile is genuine as he takes the bag and sits on his desk. The pretty tissue paper lays carefully on the desk and he peeks inside the bag before gently taking the box out.
“Hunter…this is…” Gabe laughs and beams a smile. “You know I don’t practice this kind of law, though, right?”
He holds the mug I bought on the spur of the moment because I didn’t want to show up empty-handed with the news we weren’t divorced and relive the day I broke his heart.
Printed on a white mug in black letters is the phrase, ‘I put the cute in prosecute.’ It’s nothing fancy, but I thought it would make him laugh, and I was right.
“Yeah, I know that’s not what you do, but youarecute.”
His cheeks flush as he sets the mug on his desk and leans his hip on the edge. “Thank you. For the compliment and the sweet gift. I love it.”
“So we’re good, counsellor?”
“Yeah, doll. More than good.” Gabe’s alarm on his computer chimes as I reach for him. “That’s my warning to get over to my next client. Do you have plans tonight?”
“Hopefully with you?” I ask and place a kiss on his neck.
“I’ll bring home takeout and see if Diamond has any of the cheesecake you like.” He breathes against my lips before we share a soft kiss, and I step away.
“It’s a date, counsellor. See you tonight.”
After one more kiss and a wave to Penny, I’m back on the street, heading to my truck. One more stop to make before home. It’s not one I want to make, but it’s long overdue.
After the cemetery caretaker finishes and drives off, I exit my truck and walk lightly to the stone I’ve come here to visit.
It’s a small cemetery and only four people I know and love spend their eternity here. Side by side, it’s an easy visit to make. Stopping at my parents’ first, I read their names and young ages before the familiar sadnesscreeps in.
Would I have played sports with my dad? How would they have reacted to knowing I was gay? Would my relationship with my grandfather have been different if they hadn’t died?
None of the questions matter, really, but they bounce back every time I come to visit my grandmother’s grave. A step to the left and I’m in front of the woman who raised me as best she could until she, too, was taken far too soon for this world.
