27
CARLOS
We’d been pretty f*****g silent on the ride over from the hotel to the stables where Prancer was boarded.
My wife was as spontaneous, spirited, and impetuous as the horses she rode, and it still rubbed me the wrong way that she'd grown up reined in by her father and then had been forced to marry me—no matter how much I liked the end result.
The air hung empty between us, with Gabriela staring out at the blurred countryside which bled by as we sped our way down Highway 101. She was clueless about the fact that my guts were twisted up like a ball of yarn, and had been ever since I lay next to her this morning, watching her and waiting for her to wake, while at the same time praying she wouldn’t so I could go on staring at her while she slept.
Just now she was coiling her hair
