Not Over You

Chapter Nine

Gabriel jogged after Elise, calling her name again and again.

Finally, she turned around, her green eyes blazing. “If I had wanted to talk to you, then I would have stopped, before everyone in the entire county heard you shouting my name.”

“Let me explain,” he said.

Elise’s lips smashed together, and then she took a breath. “There’s nothing to explain.”

“Nothing happened.”

“I know nothing happened, Gabe. You’re not that kind of guy.” Elise made a little face. “You’re kind, honest, and love saving damsels in distress.”

Affronted, he stepped back. “I enjoy helping people, Elise. It gives me joy to do for others what was done for me.”

“It’s not your job to save everyone,” she snapped.

Hadn’t Carlos said those very words to him? “I know it’s not, but all we were doing was talking, honey. Nothing more. I made no promises to help her.”

She smiled sadly. “You didn’t have to. The look on your face said it all for you.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve done nothing, but repeat to Summer that you come first, that you are what I have to focus on, not her.”

“Have to focus on?” She tilted her head to one side. “You make it sound like a chore you have to do.”

“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?” he asked. “I’m not going to be able to convince you that no matter what, I’ll keep my promise, am I?”

“Oh, Gabriel. The only woman you’ve ever kept your promise to is standing right where you left her.”

“I’ve never broken my promise to anyone.”

“That’s because you’ve never made one before.” She glanced away. “I talked to your ex-fiancée.”

“And what did Zoe have to say?”

“That you’re everything I know you to be, everything that any woman could want, but only one woman truly holds your heart.”

Zoe had said that to her? Zoe had known that about him, yet continued to be his friend and take him back, over and over again, until she finally met the man that made her happy? Some kind of friend he’d been.

“What would you like for me to do?” he asked.

“I think it’s best if we break up.”

“No.”

She laid a hand on his arm. “The minute I felt a need to go into Carolina Dreams and warn Summer Holland to stay the hell away from my man was the moment I knew I needed to let you go.”

“Just like that?” Gabriel stood there, stunned. “I can’t—”

“Now you don’t have to. Seriously, Gabe, it’s for the best.” Elise leaned in, brushing a light kiss on his cheek. “I wish you happiness.” It began to rain, and she made a little sound, letting go of him and grabbing her umbrella. “Good-bye, Gabe.”

“Good-bye, Elise.” With the rain beating down on him, he watched her walk away, wondering what it said about him that he only felt the smallest bit of regret.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer to that question.

Whirling around, he searched for Summer, but the park was empty. He thought for sure she would have stuck around to gloat. It was for the best anyway. He really needed time to think.

Helping Summer was possible now, but to what end? He had meant what he said to her about marriage and divorce.

He walked along the wet, tree-lined path and shoved his hands in his pockets. As a child, he never minded the rain, because it meant that he could get a little cleaner, that he and his mother could have a little water to drink.

He sighed.

Maybe Summer was as desperate as the woman who’d raised him on the streets of Bogotá, Columbia. From what he knew, or at least what he thought he knew, of Summer, she and his mother had a lot in common when it came to men.

They didn’t trust them. They used them and were used and abused in turn.

It was a nasty, vicious cycle that he would never know if his mother ever broke, but maybe this was his chance to help Summer break free of her past for good.

It’s not your job to save everyone.

No, it wasn’t, but all he’d been doing for Summer was throwing her life jackets over the years. It was time to pull her out of the ocean—permanently.

But he wasn’t quite sure how to implement that. There was someone he needed to talk to, someone whose judgment he trusted implicitly, even when he hadn’t bothered to listen.

Sunday dinners were anything but quiet at the Edwards’ house, especially with six brothers and sisters. Gabriel’s family hadn’t always been this large. Until the age of eight, there had only been his biological mother and himself living in a house comprised of wood, metal, and pieces of cardboard. It was a period of his life he didn’t care to dwell on, much less looked upon with fond memories.

His adopted father, John, sat at the head of the table, with his wife and Gabriel’s adopted mother, Gloria, on his right. Occasionally, Gabriel would catch the two of them staring at him, and then exchanging knowing glances. It wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination to figure out what they were thinking.

Elise’s mother and Gloria had become the best of friends, since Elise’s parents had moved down here. Both mothers had made it perfectly clear they loved the idea of Gabriel and Elise seriously dating. He wouldn’t put it past either mother to have engaged in a little wedding planning either.

A spoonful of peas sailed through the air, hitting Isabella, the next to the oldest of all the siblings, in the neck. She narrowed her eyes at Hope and Faith. “Stop playing with your food,” she said while signing the words with her hands.

The twins looked at each other and silently giggled, fingers furiously signing their next plan of assault on their big sister to each other.

Gabriel caught their attention and nodded at Paul, who was busy circling his dinner plate with miniature trains. Identical smiles grew to Cheshire proportions.

“I heard Summer Holland was back in town,” Isabella said as she stabbed a piece of roast beef with her fork.

Heard his tail. Maybe he should throw his peas at his sister, along with his roll and what was left of his portion of the roast beef.

“Is this true, Gabe?” Gloria asked, her brown eyes missing nothing. She shook her head at the twins, and then instructed Michael to eat the rest of his mashed potatoes.

“Yes, ma’am.” Even if he didn’t suspect his mother already knew, he wouldn’t have lied to her. Not that he shared his private life with anyone. It stayed private—at least, when he could help it.

Gloria glanced at her husband, and then back at Gabriel. “Why is Summer back?”

“She wanted to return the truck she borrowed from me.” Not the whole truth, but it was all he felt comfortable giving at the moment.

“Is she leaving soon?” John asked as he fed Anna, another one of Gabriel’s sisters. She’d been six months old when they’d adopted her from China, and had been born without her hands. Now she was three and insisted on feeding herself most of the time.

“No, she’s planning on staying for good this time. She wants to reconnect with her family.” For a while, Gabriel had blamed himself for Summer’s extended absence. After all, he’d been the one to convince her to let Rose adopt Ivy. If anyone deserved Summer’s anger, it was him. But he’d seen the pain in her eyes, the uncertainty of her situation, and for a moment, she reminded him of the woman who’d given him up.

Given. More like sold to John and Gloria Edwards. Or had tried to sell him. Then again, his mother had been eleven or twelve when she’d given birth to him in a slum. A malnourished boy couldn’t have been anything but a drain to her. Maybe selling him to the two American missionaries had been her gift to him. He’d only wished she’d done it sooner.

He set his glass down beside his plate, tracing the condensation along the rim. For eight years, he’d endured poverty, hunger, and hopelessness. Things he had in common with his adopted brothers and sisters. Only Isabella, his parents’ one biological child, was perfect.

“I saw the two of you eating lunch together in the park,” Isabella said, eyes all wide and innocent. Yeah, his sister was perfectly annoying. But he loved her anyway.

“Oh no, not lunch. That means we’re exactly nothing, Bella,” Gabriel pointed out.

Judah, the newest member of their family, sat in his mother’s lap, looking a little scared and a whole lot overwhelmed. His baby brother had arrived only two months ago from Romania, his little legs bent at odd angles and his fingers permanently curved.

His mother frowned, but kept her comments to herself.

“Where are Ms. Kelly and Ms. Nancy?” he asked, referring to in-home nurses who helped take care of all the special needs children his parents had adopted or fostered.

“They deserved a day off,” his dad said as he balled up his napkin. He stood and began clearing off the table. “Like your mother does.”

“Yes, sir.” Gabriel grabbed his glass and plate.

Paul, the third oldest of the kids, copied him, and they both followed their dad into the kitchen.

John was at the sink, rinsing off his plate. Paul opened the dishwasher and unloaded the dishes. The twins ran in and out of the kitchen, bringing dirty plates and empty bowls with them. Gabriel could hear Isabella trying to coax Judah into sitting with her as Anna started demanding lap time with Gloria.

The three men worked in silence, Paul stopping every so often to rearrange the silverware drawer to his liking. Once the last dish was placed inside the dishwasher and all the clean plates were put away, they headed out to the front porch.

Gabriel and Paul sat in the porch swing, while their dad took his usual place in the rocking chair. It was still sunny outside, but pink and orange streaked the evening sky. The swing creaked as Paul moved his legs back and forth.

“Can’t say I’m happy about this turn of events,” John finally said. The urge to defend Summer was strong, but he remained silent as his dad continued, “But I trust you to do the right thing.”

Gabriel laid an arm along the back of the swing. “As in help her out, but nothing more.”

John nodded. “Your mother’s not happy with you right now.”

His parents knew of their past, so he couldn’t exactly blame them. “So this little man time out here is to voice her concerns?”

“It’s to voice our concerns. Neither of us are telling you to stay away from Summer. You’re a grown man—one who usually makes good decisions. But there’s only so much you can offer a woman like her, and your judgment seems to be skewed when it comes to Summer.”

Gabriel clenched his jaw. The place between his shoulder blades pinched together. “A woman like her?” Wasn’t his dad the man who preached unconditional love and to help out your neighbor? To not judge a person, because you don’t know what they had endured or were still enduring.

“Don’t take a phrase out of context, son,” John warned. “I’m not talking about her reputation; I’m talking about her actions. Actions that have hurt my son.”

Gabriel exhaled, letting the tightness in his shoulders ease up. This he could understand. He didn’t like it, but he could understand his parents’ need to protect him. “I appreciate your concern,” There was that word again, “but things are different. Summer’s different this time.”

The conviction in his voice surprised him. Maybe his heart knew something his brain didn’t. Usually his brain was telling him to stay the hell away from her, to not get involved beyond what she needed.

The last time Gabriel tried to get involved, Summer had burned him so badly that he still had scars. He looked down at his arm, at the scar in the shape of a thumbprint. It looked as though he had been branded. There were two more on his left bicep that resembled fingerprints.

If he had been a man who believed in the supernatural, he would have said that those were Summer’s marks on him. Marks she’d given to him while she was in labor with Ivy, as she clenched his hand and gripped his arm when another contraction had made her cry out.

Those marks, those little reminders of when he tried to be more than just a friend to her, were nothing like the one on his heart. In reality, they were nothing more than burns from welding a motorcycle frame together the morning Summer’s daughter had been born.

Funny how he hadn’t noticed, until that evening. Until he was home—alone and worried out of his mind for her. But it had been made very clear he hadn’t been needed.

“You said that before,” his dad pointed out.

Paul stopped swinging and shuffled back inside.

He glanced up at his dad and said, “This time I’m different, and I’m doing things differently, too.” This time, he would make a difference in Summer’s life.

John smiled and nodded. “Different is good.”