Chapter 6

It's painfullyclear that my trip started on the wrong foot. First, there's the unexpected encounter with Lyric Decker at LaGuardia. I was at the coffee shop getting something to eat when she saw me, she hugged me tightly. It should've been a quick hello and goodbye, but it wasn't. She not only insisted on paying for my drink but also ordered a sandwich for me despite my protests.

I secretly hoped she'd vanish after that, but I wasn't lucky. She was also bound for Seattle. I sighed with relief when I realized she was sitting in first class, pretty far away from me. Yet, like her brother, Lyric has a knack for not letting things be.

She attempted to upgrade my seat. And when she failed, she somehow convinced the airline to swap her luxurious first-class spot with the guy next to me in coach.The guy swore he had won the lottery. A hot model look-a-like of a woman not only sweet talked him to change his seat, but he also got a free upgrade.

Lyric is as insane as her brother though. Who in their right mind gives up a seat like that?

A Decker, that's who. All because she wanted to ‘catch up.' I have my share of fond memories with Lyric, but the last thing I want is to be pulled back into the whirlwind that is the Decker family.

They're good people, no doubt, but some of them just don't know how to . . . My thoughts are interrupted as Gabe sets a sandwich in front of me. His broody expression makes me want to ask what's wrong and make it better.

I look down at the sandwich, feeling a lack of appetite. "I'm not hungry," I mutter, sipping the warm milk he prepared without me asking.

"When was the last time you ate?"

I shrug nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze. "Dinner, maybe?" My voice is light, an attempt to deflect his worry, but Gabe isn't easily fooled.

"That's about twelve hours from your last meal—you have to eat something and then go to bed," he says firmly, his eyes locking onto mine.

Just as I'm about to protest that I'm not sleepy, a yawn betrays me. To add to this unintentional admission of fatigue, my stomach growls audibly. Gabe raises an eyebrow, giving me that all-too-familiar look that silently calls my bluff.

With no other option left, I begrudgingly pick up the sandwich and take a bite. I know better than to skip meals.

"So, why did Izzy call? And more importantly, what's the plan for tomorrow?" Gabe's question is casual, but his eyes are searching, trying to gauge my reaction.

I sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion. I've been awake for twenty-four hours. The lack of sleep might bring a headache, which will trigger the memories and will induce a panic attack. So it's best if I give up. I don't have the energy to continue this standoff. He's bound to win, not because he's always right, but because of his unyielding stubbornness.

He's always claimed I was the stubborn one, but I'm certain it's him who can never let things go—ever.

"I'm not sure. Around eight, I'll call Izzy to see where we're going to meet, talk, and then . . ." My voice trails off, and I shrug. "We'll see."

"Have you two spoken since . . . the fallout?" he continues with the questions.

It bothers me that he calls it a fallout though. What happened was more like my sister giving me the cold shoulder because her father said so. Though I've in a way moved on from that nightmare, I still grieve the relationship I had with my siblings and Richard Lewis while growing up. I adored Cedric and Izzy and Dad . . . Well, he was a great dad up until he married Helen but it all ended when I went against his wishes with my mother's reappearance.

"You already know the answer. Can we stop all the questions?" I take another bite of my sandwich.

His finger taps my phone which rests on the counter. "Who was that on the phone?" he asks curiously.

I shoot him a glare, feeling a surge of irritation. "It's none of your fucking business," I snap back.

"Ame," he says softly, reaching out to place a hand on my arm, probably to close the emotional distance I've created. But I resist that connection. I don't need his consolation. I don't need him.

"Seriously. I came to check on my sister, not to see you," I declare, my voice might be a bit too harsh but I want to make it clear that my presence in Seattle has nothing to do with him. "As I mentioned earlier, I accepted the ride because of Lyric, not you."

"Obviously, it's not about me," he retorts, his eyes darkened with anger and frustration.

We're just seconds from starting a big fight. I know what's going to happen. He'll try not to yell, but I'll lose my shit and begin to raise my voice. We'll say things we don't mean, hurt each other, and then . . . I stop my mind and take a deep breath.

I'm not that person. I've worked pretty hard to control my impulses, to stop myself from exploding. Clearly, he's upset with me. He probably thinks I personally wronged him for coming to Seattle to see Isadora and not him.

Why would he want me here?

"I'm just going to leave so you can go to sleep," I announce, pushing myself to stand up, eager to escape this moment. Him.

There has to be a coffee shop around here about to open. I'm a patient woman, I can wait until then.

"Stop, Ameline," he orders. "You're staying here. Knowing you, you don't even have a hotel reservation." His hand abruptly combs through his hair, fingers tangling briefly in the long strands.

It makes me wonder when the last time he cut his hair was. It also makes me want to know what he's done since I left. But I shouldn't care. I have to leave before I forget why he's bad for me.

Our gazes clash, mine sparking with frustration. "You do understand I'm not your responsibility, right? I wasn't then, I'm not now," I snap, my words come out too sharp.

Calm down before you begin another fight. It's not worth it to insult each other. We already hurt each other too much, and the end was too devastating to want to repeat it.

Gabe's anger is unmistakable. His jaw is tightly set, and his eyes burn with a turbulent mix of frustration and concern.

"It doesn't matter if I tell you how much I fucking care about you—that I love you. Knowing that you're out there unsafe kills me. None of what I say will be important because in the end you won't believe me." His voice booms throughout the house.

"What happened between us was just out of fear and pity. You didn't feel shit, and . . ." I take a breath. This shouldn't be a fight, but my chance to set a few things right. I spoke to my therapist about it a while back. I even wrote a letter that I never sent. "Listen, Gabe, I'm grateful for all you did, but I had to move on with my life. We both did." The words leave my mouth colder than I intended, but what else can I say?

The truth? It's impossible to articulate. Leaving was a necessity. Staying felt like it was eroding me, piece by piece.

The truth was that I loved him with all my heart, and he never cared enough about me.

Thankfully, being close to the Decker family taught me many things, most importantly that everyone deserves their slice of happiness. And staying in a place that asphyxiated me was nothing short of foolish.

"You really did go above and beyond. I shouldn't have accepted your proposal, but I do appreciate everything you did." I pause, pressing my lips together. "We confused our feelings. It was so easy. I'll be forever grateful, but let's just give each other closure. Forgive each other."

I meet his gaze head-on, defiant. After a tense moment, he nods. "You're right. It's time to forgive each other. We're older and more mature."

"Glad we can be adults about it."

He smirks. It's as if he just won something. "So the imaginary restraining order is over?" he confirms.

I wave a hand. "Sure." I mean, it's not like he'll suddenly start appearing everywhere.

We're ending a cycle, getting closure and moving on. And why is it that I don't feel any lightness in my heart? There's something off about this moment.

"Glad we got that out of the way. Now, I'll rearrange my schedule so I can take you to see Izzy," he announces. "Your room is upstairs. The second one down the hallway. If you need a car, let me know. There are several in my parking garage."

I gawk at him. My frustration boils over. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" I challenge him.

"Yes, I am." Gabe's hands clench and unclench as he tries to maintain his composure. "Isadora reached out to you because she probably needs something. You're alone, and I want to be there for you. Also, you have forgiven me, and confirmed that the imaginary restraining order has been lifted," he says, and the asshole dares to smile.

What the ever-loving fuck?

I shake my head, this can't be happening. "Please, don't do that."

"Don't do what?" Gabe's eyes narrow. "You don't want me to help you?"

"Exactly. I want to do this on my own." The words tumble out. "This is why I tried to avoid Lyric. But she wouldn't let it be. She had to switch her ticket to coach to sit with me, to ‘catch up.'"

I hate how ungrateful I sound, but being close to them and the memories is overwhelming. Each recollection stings and brings back the pain that's too deep, too raw.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept help from others?"

"Why are you so insistent?" I counter, my voice rising slightly.

He looks at me intently. "I have a bad feeling. This whole thing feels weirdly familiar," he admits.

I scoff lightly, trying to brush off his concern. "Sure, like when Mom called. Maybe, but this is probably different, and you won't have to marry me."

He laughs, rolling his eyes. "We would have to divorce in the first place, sweetheart."

"Well, then maybe you should sign the fucking papers when I send them to you instead of mailing them back." My voice comes out too forceful, even bitter.

Gabe gives me a challenging glare. "Let's make a deal. You let me be with you while you deal with Izzy and then we'll call my people to handle our marriage."

I narrow my gaze studying him. Somehow, I feel like there's a trick behind this proposal. "Why are you so fucking stubborn?"

"I have my reasons." He shrugs one shoulder.

"Like?" I prompt him, hoping there's more than making my life miserable for the next five days.

"Last year Cedric came to see me." His lips press together tightly. "He had some genetic testing done. PGD testing . . . As you recall, it can look for gene mutations that can lead to cancer. He had so many questions, something about it happening to too many women in his family."

"Why would he do that?" I frown. "That's what they did with us, isn't it? In the fertility clinic so the embryos wouldn't have any birth defects or . . ." I don't finish the sentence. I can't because it's too much to remember.

Gabe nods a couple of times. I remember it all too well. They retrieved the eggs right before the surgery and began to do a lot of testing on us before I began the TMZ treatment. I wish they had done it later to . . .

Stop remembering the past,I order myself.

"Is Cedric okay?" I ask, focusing on a different subject because I don't want to discuss us or our past anymore. If we get to the painful part, I might break in front of him and I refuse to do so.

"Yeah, he's fine. But now I'm wondering if he was also talking about Izzy and didn't mention her," Gabe explains. "What if he's referring to Izzy having cancer?"

"If she's sick, I'm sure you'll save her?" The question slips out, half-hopeful, half-skeptical.

"No, I just . . . I want to be there for you. Is that so hard to understand?" His frustration is evident, yet there's a plea in his voice, an earnest desire to support me.

I cross my arms, my defenses back up. "I don't need you to babysit me," I retort sharply. "Not then, and not now."

Gabe moves closer, circling the kitchen island. He reaches out, his lips briefly touching the top of my head. I hold my breath trying to avoid his familiar scent that would make me easily fall for him again. "But I told you when we met, maybe I'm the one who needs you to take care of me, Ame. Maybe I've always been the one who needs you to hold me because I'm too broken."

Leaving the kitchen, he heads to the living room and picks up my backpack. "I'm taking this upstairs. You're staying in the second guest room, at the end of the hallway. I'll leave one of my shirts there for you."

I shake my head, trying to mask my vulnerability. "Don't worry about me."

As Gabe walks away, he warns me, "The security alarm is on. If you try to leave, we'll have a major problem—and the SWAT team by the door in less than two minutes." His words carry a blend of humor but somehow I don't feel like he's joking.

I shake my head, deciding to let him win. Despite my desire to leave, I'm painfully aware that there's nowhere for me to go. My original plan to wait at the airport until I could reach Izzy has been changed by Gabriel Decker. Without a word, I focus on finishing my food.

Heading toward the stairs, I pause, my eyes drawn to a series of framed photos on a bookshelf. One picture catches my attention: Gabe with his twin and cousins. Seth stands next to a woman holding a baby, and Piper is also with a child. She's between Archer and a second man who holds a little girl.

Time has passed, and yet there's no one beside Gabe.

As I continue looking at the pictures, I find hers there. Leslie is still the only person who deserves a picture—and his heart. Thankfully, I'm older and more mature. I have gotten over him and all I feel for him is pity. Gabe Decker continues to dedicate his entire life to a girl who died long ago and refuses to live again.

He believes the lie that forever is real, and he'll meet her when he dies. He'll never be anyone other than the brooding doctor who wants to save the world and feels responsible for everyone around him.

This only reminds me that I have to leave soon. Yep, I need to leave before Gabe decides I need ‘saving.'

I'm grateful for everything he did when I was young, but now I can fight my battles and hold my own.I'm not that person, and he's too damaged to see beyond his past.

I don't need him in my life.