He was terrified—of me having a flare-up alone, of me falling from somewhere high, of waking up one day to find my dimpled smile gone forever.
I tilted my head, my gaze steady. "Gabriel, I don't know why you had to show up tonight, but you can see I'm not exactly in guest-hosting shape. If you're here for forgiveness, I'll say it again—I'm not mad. I don't hate you." I held his eyes. "If you need an answer, here it is: I forgive you."
I looked down, my voice low. "Can you go now? I don't like being seen like this. And I don't want you seeing me like this again."
Gabriel tried to smile, but his lips wouldn't move, like they were pinned in place. His chest ached, hollowed out. He dug his nails into his palms, searching my eyes for a hint of anger, but even as his gaze burned, he found not
