The air is crisp as Thanksgiving approaches, leaves crunching underfoot on the way to class. Students bustle with plans to head home or celebrate with friends. My thoughts are elsewhere, swirling between gratitude and the knot of tension twisting tighter every time I think about Gabe's father.
Zulu leans back against her chair as we sit in the campus café. The warmth inside contrasts with the chill outside, the aroma of coffee and baked goods weaving through space. I push my cup around absently, not even sipping.
"You look distracted," Zulu remarks, her sharp brown eyes narrowing as she studies me.
I hesitate. Do I tell her? I hadn't planned to say anything, but the weight of everything feels like it's crushing me.
"It's Gabe," I murmur, barely louder than a whisper.
Her eyebrows lift. "Gabe? The guy you've been attached to at the hip lately?"
Cindy perks up from across the table, a grin already forming. "Gabe? Oh, this is getting interesting."
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch despite myself. "It's not like that," I protest weakly, knowing it's half-hearted. "I mean… it's complicated. His dad's been sick."
Their expressions shift instantly, humor replaced with concern. "What kind of sick?" Zulu asks, leaning forward.
"Cancer," I say, the word still feeling heavy on my tongue despite knowing he's caught it early. "Gabe convinced him to get screened, and they found it. It's… treatable." As I say the words out loud, puzzles start falling into place about Gabe.
It's his father's situation that has him this strung out. And instead of being a good friend to him, I am acting like poison in his life. I feel ashamed of myself then.
Zulu exhales in relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly, not aware of where my thinking is. "That's good, right?"
Nodding, though my chest still feels tight, I share, "He's been in and out of the hospital for treatment. They're hopeful, but it's a lot. And with Thanksgiving coming up, it's just…"
"Stressful," Cindy finishes for me. She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing mine. "You've been through a lot, Meg. I can see it in your face. But you're here for him, and that counts for something."
Zulu's gaze is more searching as if trying to piece together what I'm not saying. I can't meet her eyes for long. From my peripheral view, she grins again, her giggle breaking the moment's seriousness. "This is so cute. You're totally falling for him."
I recall both times Gabe declared his love for me. The aggressive manner too. Did he mean what he said or was he just throwing those words around... like before during our marriage?
I'm not falling, I fell already.
--
The Lees and Adkins have plans to celebrate Thanksgiving together this year. My parents, who've always kept family traditions small, are excited about the change. Even Gabe's father, still weak from treatments but optimistic, has been discharged from the hospital.
Liz has joined in on the talk between Avrielle and I- it's a Lee family year of surprises.
Dinner is warm and lively, the house filled with the scent of roasted turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie. Laughter bounces off the walls as stories are shared. I glance at Gabe, sitting quietly beside his father. His smile seems forced, his shoulders tight despite the festivities.
When it's my turn to say what I'm thankful for, my voice trembles slightly. "I'm thankful for my family," I say, glancing at my parents, my sisters. Matt and Cole are with their own families. My gaze shifts to the Adkins. "And for new people entering our lives. You've made this year… brighter."
Gabe's eyes meet mine across the table, something unreadable in his expression. He doesn't speak, but he nods slightly, his jaw tightening. We had not spoken since that night at campus.
The house settles into quiet after the huge feast and the parents go off to the den area. Liz and Avrielle are on video calls with their boyfriends, and I find Gabe sitting on the back porch. The cool night air brushes against my skin as I step outside. He didn't acknowledge me at first, his head bowed, hands clasped tightly in front of him.
"Gabe?" I ask softly, hesitantly.
He lifts his head, his face shadowed but his eyes shining with unshed tears. "Hey," he croaks, his voice rough. He is in his signature wear- a formal shirt and pants and shiny boots.
I sit beside him, wrapping my arms around my knees. "Are you okay?"
"Did you mean what you said?"
Furrowing my forehead he adds, "About being thankful to have met me."
Slowly I nodded my head. I might not have thought I was in love with my husband during our marriage, but I had long come to terms that maybe I had been. A comfortable, satisfied sort of love. Safe.
And I loved Gabe now in a different way. Where I want to hug him and take away his hurt. I also want to bang him over the head with his cell phone... both lifetimes, I love him.
I have also come to terms with us. That I had altered his feelings for Cassandra. I had interrupted whatever they had. I just did not understand Gabe and his reason for leaving me in the future. What sort of love did he share with this woman that caused him to leave me then but walking away from her now in this timeline, so easily?
Circumstances?
"Are you okay, Gabriel?" I repeated the question, in a near whisper while I push the swing a bit forward, a bit clumsily because I am wearing heels.
He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. "Not really. It just… been hitting me more so tonight. Seeing him at the table, laughing like everything's fine. It feels like a lie." Ah, his father. I was right. Gabe is a turmoil of emotional fear. He's helpless and swirling just beneath the surface of his composed exterior that he displays for all. And I know the weight of his pain having experienced it. Guilt eats at me for pushing him away when I should have known because I have been thinking that I know his every way of thinking and who he is- haven't I?
"It's not a lie," I say gently. "He's here. He's fighting."
He scrubs a hand down his face. "But for how long? I mean- what if…" His voice cracks, and he shakes his head again. "I don't know how to do this."
I reach out, my hand finding his. His fingers are cold, trembling slightly as I squeeze them. "You don't have to know. Just be there for him. That's what he needs."
He looks at me then, his expression raw. "And what if I lose him anyway?"
"You won't," I whisper fiercely, though I don't know if I believe it. "You caught it early. He's got a chance."
A tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes at it angrily. "I hate this. I hate feeling so… powerless."
"You're not powerless," I insist. "You're giving him strength just by being here. By caring."
He lets out a shaky breath, nodding slightly. "Thanks, Meg."
Out of nowhere, my head begins to feel light- less burdened and i pursed my lips, squeezing his hand again, holding on tightly. "Always." I did mean those words, despite the cruel memory I have of him breaking my trust and leaving me and the child I carried selfishly. My forehead creases and I recognize then, I had forgiven him.