“I know. There was so much I wanted to say, and I didn’t know how.”
“Like what?” she whispered.
Like “I love you.”But he still didn’t know how to say that, so he didn’t.
“Like what happened at my sister’s wedding. You would’ve gotten a kick out of it.”
“Really?”
He was relieved she accepted the return to a somewhat lighter subject. “The drama of it all. My brother-in-law, Patrick, owed Nikki twenty bucks.”
“For what?”
“Nikki bet her husband that my dad and I would cause a scene. Patrick—bless him—was sure we wouldn’t. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.”
“And Nikki was right.” Michelle sighed. “What happened?”
“Tío Marco—you remember him?”
“Of course. Your godfather.”
“Right. He made some crack about me playing for the Yankees. He was kidding, but that set my dad off.”
“Why did you stop playing baseball, anyway?”
“Hurt my knee, got more interested in sports medicine and rehab.”
“And that led to physical therapy. Gotcha.”
His chest warmed, glad that she was able to make those kinds of connections about him. “My dad said some shit about me thinking I was too good for the Yankees—”
“Um, excuse me, Esteban,” she cut in, addressing Past Dad as if he were in the car with them. “Who thinks they’re too good for the Yankees?”
“Not me. I reminded him that I’d gotten injured, which led him to bring up my student loans. You know how my dad feels about debt.”
“Oh, I remember. I was present for some of those conversations.”
Conversationswas putting it mildly. Evenlecturesdidn’t come close. They were more like tirades. Gabe shook off the memories.
“He started in on my job at the time. I was working as a personal trainer, building up my client base, while looking into physical therapy programs. And he acted like I was just hanging out, lifting weights for fun.”
Try as he might to squash it down, the memory of old hurts rose up. Gabe had been so fucking done that day. Done being belittled and talked down to because he’d dared have dreams of his own. Because he’d had the gall to follow those dreams, even though it meant leaving his family—a cardinal sin, in his father’s eyes.
His parents had acted like it was fuckingeasyto leave everything he’d known to move across the country. Like he hadn’tworked his ass off. And when he’d finally found the thing that fulfilled him, they’d treated it like it was nothing, because it didn’t fit their dream for him.
Gabe remembered the next part clearly. His mother had tried to shush him, but he’d stood up to his father, once and for all.
Even if I carry it with me to my grave, every cent of debt is worth it. It got me away from the store. It got me out of the house. And it got me away fromyou.
Gabe had gotten up to leave then, feeling like shit for ruining his sister’s wedding, his father’s shouts echoing behind him in Spanish. And then, in English...
“Don’t come back,” Gabe repeated out loud, the words overlapping with his father’s voice in his mind. “That’s the last thing he said to me.”
Michelle sucked in a breath. “That’s whatIsaid to you,” she whispered, shooting him a pained look.
Whatever, Gabe. Run away to California. Run away, and don’t ever come back.
“I remember,” he murmured.
