Gabrielle's POV
The warmth of Matthew’s words lingered in the air, wrapping around me like a fragile thread. His confession was unexpected, as if he had peeled back a layer of himself I hadn’t even realized existed.
But it also left me more confused than ever.
How could someone who was centuries old—someone who’d lived through so much—feel this way about me?
I stood there, staring at him, the photograph still clutched in my hand. My mind screamed at me to say something, but my heart was too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts.
"Gabrielle," Matthew said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. "I know this is a lot to take in, but—"
"I just... need a moment," I said, stepping back. The space between us felt both too much and not enough.
Without another word, I turned and walked upst
