Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Well, she’s been of that mindset ever since we bought her first Lego set when she was a kid.”
“How old is she now?”
“Fourteen going on forty,” I joked.
“No way… You have a fourteen-year-old?” he questioned, amazed.
“Yes. Henry’s about nine years older than me. When I met him, he had a five-year-old. I instantly fell in love with Ava, and well, she’s my daughter. Maybe not by blood but—”
“By heart,” he finished. “That’s the kind of love that matters most. I love that you have her, and that she has you.”
“Me too. She’s special.”
“Well.” He tossed his last piece of muffin into his mouth. “If she’s ever interested, I’m more than willing to have her shadow me at the office this summer if she wants to take on an internship of sorts.”
“Are you serious? She would lose her mind over that opportunity.”
“Yeah, for sure. We can even set up a payroll to pay her to get the experience and she can help around the office.”
“Wow, Gabriel. That’s…more than kind. Thank you.”
He pulled out his wallet and handed me one of his business cards. “You can call me to set it up. Then you have a direct line to me, outside of Henry.”
“Thank you. I’ll reach out later this week to set something up.”
“Wonderful.” He glanced down at his watch and nodded. “I guess our time is up, and I should get to work.” He stood. “But I actually really enjoyed this, Kierra.”
“Me too,” I confessed. Guilt hit me from the realization that I’d enjoyed his company. Guilt attached to enjoying another man’s company when I was a married woman, and guilt for going against Amma’s request. A wave of discomfort washed over me as I rose from the table.
“Have a great day,” he said as he turned to exit the bakery.
“Gabriel,” I called out.
He looked over his shoulder, his brown eyes piercing my heart. “Yes?”
“Can you ask me again? Ask me how I am.”
He turned completely toward me. “How are you, Kierra?”
“Overwhelmed and a little sad.”
He slid his hands into his stained coat pockets. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you.”
He took a step toward me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No,” I whispered and shrugged, feeling the tears building back up in my eyes. I didn’t know the last time I’d told someone the truth about how I was feeling. I was so used to being the strong one. To being the one who was always good, that I didn’t even know I was allowed to say out loud that I wasn’t okay. Until Gabriel gave me that freedom. “I just needed to say that out loud.”
“I understand.” He stepped closer. His brows lowered. “Is it okay if I hug you?”
My mouth parted and I wanted to say yes. I wanted to wrap myself in his embrace and hold on to him tightly as he told me everything would be okay someday. Because I knew who Gabriel had been in the past, and I was quickly learning who he was in the present: comfort. He was and always would be comfort to me.
But I wasn’t the same girl I’d been when I met Gabriel. Holding on to another man when I had a husband of my own felt wrong. I even felt bad for the coffee and muffin.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Thank you, though. Thank you for asking me again.”
He brushed a thumb against his chin. “Thank you for being honest. It takes a lot of guts to be that honest.”
8
Gabriel
Is it okay if I hug you?
What in the absolute fuck was I thinking asking Kierra such a question? It was beyond bizarre and out-of-the-world inappropriate. It was even inappropriate for me to ask her to eat a damn cinnamon muffin with me.
I should’ve been a bit embarrassed, too, seeing how I waited around the bakery for her the day prior, but she never showed up. That had felt like a gut punch for some reason. I stood there like a goofy fool, holding a bag of muffins, hoping a married woman client would walked through the doors in search of said muffin.
What was even more humiliating was the fact that I did it again that morning. When she arrived, I felt even more batshit because a pool of giddiness hit the pit of my stomach. That was until I saw her break down into tears.
I wouldn’t blame myself for the tears she shed, but they still broke my heart as I watched her fall apart. And I did want to fucking hug her, okay? I wanted to hug her for so long and not let go, if she was crying or not. My mind still couldn’t make sense of why I felt that way.
There was just something about her that felt so familiar. I haven’t had something feel familiar to me in what felt like two decades. Since my accident, truthfully. Other than my mother, everything and everyone felt distant. Most days, it felt as if I was walking through a fog. Passing by people and places that felt so black and white. But Kierra felt like color. Not just any color, either. The most vibrant of tones, which made my heart pound wildly in my chest.