Chapter 6 Gabriel Promise
1460 Words
Eleanor walked beside Gabriel in silence, her heartbeat unsteady as he led her toward the large oak tree at the edge of the town square. The old tree stood like a witness—its broad branches reaching outward, leaves rustling softly in the morning breeze. Time had carved deep ridges into its trunk, the same way life had carved its lines into both of them.
Gabriel stopped beneath the oak, his hand brushing the bark as if grounding himself. Eleanor halted a few steps away, arms folded, chest tight.
“Why here?” she whispered, though she already knew.
Gabriel’s gaze lifted toward the branches above them. The morning light filtered through the leaves, casting soft golden patterns on his face. “Because this is where we used to tell each other everything. Good or bad.”
Her pulse quickened.
He turned his eyes to hers. “And because this place hasn’t forgotten us. Even if we tried to forget it.”
She swallowed hard. “Gabriel, we were kids.”
“We weren’t just kids,” he said quietly. “You know that.”
Eleanor looked away, her eyes tracing the long stretch of the branches overhead. The oak tree held too many memories—laughter, whispered confessions, dreams spoken into the quiet night. Even the last moment she saw him… standing here, trying not to cry,
saying goodbye without actually saying it.
“I didn’t come back to relive the past,” she murmured.
“I didn’t either,” he said gently. “But we can’t pretend it didn’t shape us.”
Eleanor’s throat tightened.
Gabriel took a cautious step forward, his voice steady. “Ellie… I need to explain why I left the way I did. Why I didn’t say goodbye properly.”
“You didn’t say goodbye at all,” she whispered. “You disappeared.”
He closed his eyes at the pain in her voice. “I know. And I hate myself for it.”
A beat of silence fell between them.
“I owe you more than the half-truths I gave you back then,” Gabriel said quietly. “You deserve the whole story.”
Eleanor stayed still but didn’t walk away. That was enough for him to continue.
“My father…” Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “He was losing control faster than I could understand. His drinking got worse. His temper got worse. There were nights he didn’t even recognize me.” He shook his head. “I kept thinking it would get better, that he’d go back to the man he used to be.”
Eleanor’s chest ached. “Gabriel…”
“I didn’t want you anywhere near him when he was like that,” Gabriel whispered. “He was unpredictable. Violent. And when he came after me that night—” His voice faltered, breath catching. “My mom told me to leave. Begged me to. She said staying would destroy me.”
A lump formed in Eleanor’s throat. “You… you never told me it was that bad.”
“I didn’t know how,” Gabriel said softly. “I didn’t know how to let you see the ugliest parts of my life.”
“You should’ve trusted me with that.”
“I should’ve,” he admitted. “But I was terrified. And young. And so damn afraid of becoming him.”
Eleanor pressed a hand to her chest. “And you thought leaving would fix it?”
“No,” he breathed. “I thought leaving would save you from the mess I was drowning in. I thought disappearing would hurt less than dragging you through my chaos.”
Her eyes burned. “It didn’t hurt less.”
Gabriel’s shoulders dropped, his expression raw with regret. “I know. And I’ve lived with the weight of that every single day since.”
Eleanor looked down, twisting her fingers together. The past pressed in on her—years of wondering, imagining, resenting, aching.
She had spent so long believing his leaving meant she wasn’t enough.
“I wasn’t running from you,” Gabriel whispered. “I was running from him… and from a version of myself that scared me.”
Eleanor exhaled shakily. “You still could have said something.”
“I was eighteen and scared out of my mind,” he said. “I didn’t know how to stay. I didn’t know how to leave right. But I loved you, Ellie. That was the one thing that never changed.”
Her breath stuttered. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” he whispered. “It’s the truth.”
“Because it complicates everything,” she said, stepping back. “I’ve spent so long trying to bury what we had.”
“You didn’t bury it,” he murmured. “You just built walls around it.”
“And you think showing up breaks them down?”
“No,” Gabriel said. “But I’m asking for a chance to earn my way through them.”
The wind shifted, brushing through the leaves above them. Eleanor could hear the distant sound of laughter from the café, the clink of cups, the soft hum of the town waking up. But beneath the oak, everything felt still.
“Gabriel, I…” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”
“I expect nothing,” he said. “I don’t want to rewrite the past. I can’t fix every moment I broke.” He swallowed hard. “I just want to stand here now—honestly. Without lies. Without fear.”
Her heart trembled.
He took another cautious step, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not touching her. “I came back because I needed to face my past. And you’re part of that. The best part. The hardest part. The part that still matters.”
Eleanor closed her eyes, but the tears still gathered hot at the corners.
Gabriel’s voice softened. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking for the chance to show you who I am now. To show you I’m not him. And that the man standing here wants to choose you in all the ways the boy couldn’t.”
Her breath shook.
The truth settled between them—heavy, vulnerable, undeniable.
Gabriel stepped closer, but still didn’t touch her. “Ellie… whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. Time. Space. Honesty. You name it.”
She stared at him, and for the first time she noticed the small tremor in his hand—fear, not of her answer, but of losing the possibility of being in her life again.
“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered.
He nodded slowly, the pain in his gaze unmistakable… but so was the hope. “Then I’ll wait.”
Eleanor blinked through her tears. “Why? After all these years, why wait now?”
Gabriel’s voice cracked. “Because you’re the only thing I ever wanted that felt like light. And I’m done running from the light.”
The words hit her so hard she had to look away. “Gabriel…”
“Let me prove it,” he whispered. “Let me prove I’m not leaving again. Not unless you ask me to.”
Eleanor felt the air shift around them. The oak tree rustled like it understood something she didn’t yet know how to say.
She didn’t step into him.
But she didn’t step away.
She simply breathed—and in that breath, something soft and fragile began to stir.
Not forgiveness.
Not certainty.
Not love renewed.
But the smallest beginning of possibility.
Gabriel exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Thank you for listening,” he whispered. “Even if it hurts.”
“It does hurt,” she said softly. “But maybe some things have to hurt before they heal.”
He gave her a small, broken smile. “Maybe they do.”
The morning sun crept higher, warming the earth around them. The oak branches swayed gently overhead, scattering small halos of light across the ground.
Eleanor turned toward the path. “I need some air.”
“Take all the air you need,” Gabriel said quietly.
She hesitated—just long enough to let him see the truth flicker across her face.
“I don’t want you to disappear,” she whispered.
Gabriel’s eyes softened completely. “Then I won’t.”
He didn’t move as she stepped away. Didn’t reach for her. Didn’t chase.
He simply watched her walk down the path, his expression full of something deep and unguarded.
And for the first time in twenty years,
Gabriel Hart kept his promise.
- Writer
