Unveiling The Sky (39 page)

“Sam,” I said in a rough voice. She turned, looking at me for the first time, and gave me a small smile. “I can’t let you do that.”

She gave a humorless laugh before hitching her thumb in Dad’s direction. “It’s not really my choice, remember? And maybe he’ll grow a conscience and won’t send me.” She cut her eyes in his direction and mine followed. He looked torn, and not for the first time, I truly wondered about what kind of man my father was. There were times, like now, where I would have sworn I saw more in him. But then it would fade and he’d be the same no-nonsense businessman I’d grown up with.
 

“But,” Sam said as she looked back at me. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you break up with Alara, even if it’s temporary. She’s good for you. I’ve never seen you so happy.” Her sharp gaze landed on our father.

“Samantha—”

“No,” she said firmly as she continued to look at our father, disgust written all over her face. “What kind of man uses one child against another?” She shook her head as his face paled even further to a ghostly shade of white. “What the hell did Mom
ever
see in you?” The crushed look on my dad’s face was surprising. I guess he never expected Sam to turn on him; truthfully I never did either.
 

“I always wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. I agreed with Mom, keeping our family together seemed like the most important thing. But I’ve realized that you can’t keep something together when one part of it is constantly trying to run away. I don’t know if you ever loved Mom or if you’ve ever loved us, but—”

“Of course I love you, Samantha.”

“But, if you do this, if you force Gabe to do this, I will never forgive you, and I don’t see how Gabe will either.” Her eyes watered as she stepped closer to him. “I don’t believe you’re a bad man; maybe that’s stupid and naïve, but I don’t. I think some part of you genuinely believes you’re doing the right thing. But you’re not, you’re really not.” Her anger had completely faded as her tears began to fall.

I cleared my throat and took a small step forward before addressing my father. “Maybe I am making a mistake in walking away from the company. Apparently Mom constantly thought I was making mistakes.” I paused and threw Sam a small smile. “But she never did anything but support me. And when my choices didn’t work out, she comforted me. That’s what I need you to do.”

My father’s eyes shone as he cleared his throat and turned away from us. “All right. It’s clear I can’t change your minds. I won’t send Samantha anywhere. But, Gabe, I can’t promise this future will be waiting if you change your mind. The job will be filled and Miranda could be married—”

“Alara is not a possible mistake, I was not referring to her anywhere in that statement. That’s a done deal.” I looked over to see Sam’s tears had receded and she was smiling.

“Okay.” He coughed into his fist and stayed facing the window. “Perhaps you two should leave now.”

“Dad—” Sam started.

“Please, Samantha.” He sounded pained, and I was unaccustomed to the conflicting emotions rising inside me. Sam seemed to be feeling the same way but when our dad asked again, it was a broken plea, and we had no choice but to turn and walk out the door. I stopped outside as Sam lingered in the doorway.

“I think we all need time. But this doesn’t have to be the end of our family.” She paused as if she expected him to say something, and when he didn’t, her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Just think about it and call us when you’re ready.”

Sam slowly shut the door. We were standing in the elevator when Sam waved her hands and said, “Victory.” It was a sad sound, and her face fell as she realized just how screwed up everything was and might always be between our father and us. Because even though Sam was right, it was a hollow victory.

…

I ran my hands through my hair and loosened my tie as I stepped out onto the busy street. Despite the “success,” I felt rundown and pretty freaking low as I thought about what my father had said.
 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked with a gentle touch to my elbow.

“Yeah, just tired.”

She gave me a skeptical look before nodding her head down the street. “I have plans, but if you want to talk I can cancel them and—”

“No, no. Don’t do that. I think I just need to unwind.”

“Okay.” She nodded before wrapping me up in a hug. “But promise you’ll call me if you need to?”

“Promise.” Five minutes later she was in her car and out of sight. I checked my phone and in addition to seeing that it was nearly seven o’clock, there was a text from Alara.

Alara: Hey. How’d everything go?

I blew out a frustrated breath and shoved my phone in my pocket as I looked down the street toward the bar I frequented when I interned here. Without giving it a second thought I crossed the street and walked in, relishing the noise that drowned out my thoughts. I sat with my whiskey in hand and was debating what to say in response to the text when a soft hand rested on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Hey.”

“Go away, Miranda.” I had tried to be nice, tried to be straightforward and not play games, but honestly there was only so much I could take. I rubbed my forehead, trying to alleviate the inevitable headache this conversation was going to give me.

“Is she really worth this, Gabe? Don’t you remember how easy it was with us?” she asked, getting right to the chase as she sat down next to me. She flagged down the bartender and ordered a glass of wine.

“I don’t want easy, not if it means settling.”

“We were happy. You weren’t settling.”

“I wasn’t
unhappy
, but that’s not the same thing. I’m happy now. I love her, and whether or not you or my dad can accept it, I
am
going to be with her.”

She blew out a breath before shifting toward me, causing our knees to bump. “Gabe, I know about her depression.”

“Jesus Christ,” I swore. “What the hell doesn’t my father talk to you about? And so what? There’s
nothing
wrong with her because of it.”

“I did some research,” she said softly. “About how depression breeds self-doubt and insecurities, and that they try to push you away.” She paused as I stared into my drink, trying not to panic at her words. “I read a lot of things and I don’t know if they pertain to her or not, but you’d never have to convince me of anything. I’d always trust you and know you loved me. I could handle anything you ever had to say to me. Can she?” she asked, and as she stood up and took a twenty out of her wallet, it was obvious that the question was meant to be rhetorical. This whole conversation seemed to be, because just like with my father, she had no actual interest in what I wanted or what I had to say. Miranda set the money on the counter and moved to walk away when I spoke.
 

“Everything.” She turned around with a raised eyebrow, her expression lost and curious. I thought back to everything my father and she had said, and even back to things Alara had warned me about. Yes, there was fear and uncertainty, but there was also hope and confidence, and I had to make those count more. Because I had never wanted anything the way I wanted her, and all my fears and thoughts always came back to me not being enough, never the other way around. I cleared my throat and said, “To answer your question from earlier: Alara is worth
everything
.”

I nervously tapped my foot as we waited for Gabe to come back from his meeting. Naomi, Derek, and Sherry were trying to cheer me up but with very little success. I hadn’t told anyone about Gabe’s father’s visit or my meltdown afterwards, it was all too raw, and honestly they couldn’t have said anything I didn’t logically know.

Gabe walked in ten minutes later wearing a crumpled suit and an expression of melancholy. He didn’t look at any of us as he walked into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a beer bottle plastered to his mouth, and when he finally finished his “sip” I saw that he had already drunk more than half.

“How’d the meeting go?” Derek’s voice was nervous and hesitant, two things he
never
was.

“What happened?” Naomi asked when he stayed silent.

He shrugged and dropped to the couch. “What I thought would happen.” He paused to clear his throat before doing a horrible impression of whom I assumed was supposed to be his father. “I’m to return home immediately and fulfill my duty to the family. I’m to marry Miranda, have two children, live in a white-picket-fenced house, and work beside dear old dad until it is my time to take over the business. If not, he’s going to send Samantha to live with some random aunt we barely know all the way across the country.” He chuckled like it was joke, and he did sound extremely sarcastic, but I didn’t know if that was because he told his father to shove it or because he was forced to make that decision.

“What…” I paused and cleared my throat before continuing. “What’d you tell him?”

Gabe closed his eyes as if he was in pain before roughly shoving his hand through his hair and standing up to place his now empty beer bottle on the table.

“It’s only a few months,” I said softly.

“What?” His voice was deadly low and when he looked up his eyes held a calmness that, ironically, was frightening.

I cleared my throat and aimed for a reassuring tone. “Your sister will turn eighteen in about five months, right? So we can just put us on hold until then.” The thought made me sick, but Samantha leaving was something I refused to let happen. I knew how guilty Gabe had felt when he left her before, and there was no way he’d want to do it again. And I could wait for him. As long as I knew I’d have him, I could wait.

“You want to put us on hold?” His tone held so many emotions I didn’t know what to focus on or address first. Disbelief. Confusion. Fear. Sadness. Anger.

“No, I don’t
want
to.” My mind raced and fear clawed at my throat, making it harder to speak. “I just think this’ll be best for everyone. Your sister gets to stay here, you have time to sort everything out, and your dad… well, your dad doesn’t get anything.”

“And what do you get?” he asked. I opened my mouth to tell him that I’d get him. In the end, I’d get him, which was all I wanted. But he cut me off, and all those emotions he was wavering between moments ago had settled until only one remained. And unfortunately for my heart, that was anger. “You get to talk yourself out of this whole thing? Come up with new reasons why we shouldn’t be together?”

“What?” I asked in a hoarse whisper. “No, of course not, I—”

“How the hell could you think I’d go back to that bullshit?” He stumbled forward as he pointed to the door he recently came through. He stared as I started to fidget under his gaze.
 

“Dude, are you drunk?” Derek asked incredulously.

Gabe ignored him as he continued, “You think I’m just going to leave you?” His eyes were blazing and his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. “Is that what you want?”

“W-what?”
 

“Derek, maybe you should take Gabe—”

Naomi was cut off as Gabe continued yet again. “You’ve just been waiting for a reason to cut me loose, haven’t you? So tell me, how are you going to justify this? Is it going to come back to your depression like everything else?”

It felt like the air went out of the room.

“And you’ll pretend you’re okay even when you’re not. You’ll pretend all this was casual and you won’t admit how you feel as you walk out the fucking door, all on the off chance that you think you’re protecting me.” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I can’t believe you think I’d walk away… after
everything,
you still believe this is temporary. Miranda was right. You don’t trust me at all, do you?”
He saw Miranda too?
“I haven’t done a damn thing to make you think I’d go back. I haven’t done a single thing wrong!” he screamed, and he was so close that I could finally smell the alcohol we all knew was on his breath.

“But I have?” I asked more to myself than him. Had I? Were all those doubts normal? I didn’t know. But they were
my
normal. They had been with me for as long as I could remember, and I didn’t think they were going anywhere any time soon.

His expression softened slightly, but he still looked confused and his frustration was barely contained. “No, it’s just… I don’t know how this is supposed to work when you don’t want it to. When all you’re looking for is a way out. How the hell are we supposed to get anywhere if all you want to do is run?”

“I don’t
want
to run,” I said softly.

“Really?” His voice dripped with sarcasm and disbelief.

“Yes,” I hissed. “I’m sorry, that I got scared at first… you know that. But I’m trying. You know how much I’m trying.”

“Are you? Because it doesn’t seem like it right now, and…” He trailed off, looking a little more sober and more than a little torn. His anger had waned and confusion took its place. I knew then that wherever this conversation was headed would break my heart.

“And what?” I asked with a nod in his direction.

“Guys, seriously, it’s been a long few days. Maybe we should cool it,” Naomi said, reminding us that we still had company.