Chapter Twelve
“Is Gabriel okay?” Tyler asked.
Elizabeth was still rattled by how much Gabriel looked like him. They were the same height and build, and the expression of compassion on his face was so much like her husband’s. “Yeah, I think he just needs a minute,” she said, stunned that Gabriel had said nothing, simply excused himself and walked off.
Of course, Gabriel was thrown. She knew it because she knew him so well. He was likely either in the kitchen or out back, getting some air and trying to pull himself together. She suspected the latter.
“We didn’t officially meet, but I understand you’re my son’s wife,” Tyler said. He had a nice smile, Gabriel’s smile. She was having a little trouble with the “son” thing, and she wanted to point out that Gabriel wasn’t his son; he was Andy
