Zay had always been the type to keep his personal life close to the chest. But with Gabriella, it felt different. She had opened up to him, slowly but surely, about the things that shaped her—her dreams, her struggles, her desires. Yet there was one thing that still remained untouched: her past.
She never talked about it. It wasn't that she was closed off, but there were gaps, things she kept hidden. Zay had noticed the subtle way she'd shift the conversation when he asked her anything about her life before foster care, her family, or how she ended up at the shelter. Her answers were vague, surface-level—nothing deep.
He respected her space, of course. But he also couldn't help but wonder. They had shared so much with each other, so much of their time, but what was it about her past that made her so reluctant to talk about it?
One quiet evening, they were lounging on the couch, watching a movie Gabriella had picked out. The evening was typical—comfortable, effortless. Zay had his arm draped over her shoulder as she nestled against him, but his mind was elsewhere, drifting. He had to know more about her.
He turned to her, his voice soft but serious. "Gabby," he started, his fingers gently tracing her arm. She shifted slightly, looking up at him with curiosity.
"Yeah?" she replied, her eyes meeting his.
Zay hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was the right time to ask, but he had to. "You never really talk about... your past. I mean, before the shelter. You don't have to tell me anything you're not ready for, but... I guess I'm just curious. How did you end up there? What was it like before all this?"
Gabriella's expression flickered for just a moment. It wasn't a big shift, but Zay saw it—the brief flash of discomfort, the quick breath she took. She wasn't used to this kind of question, not from him, not from anyone.
For a long beat, she didn't say anything. Zay held his breath, giving her the space to process.
"I don't know if I'm ready to talk about it," Gabriella admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers.
Zay's heart softened. He wasn't going to pressure her, but he also knew they were building something real, something lasting. And for that, he needed to understand her. All of her. "I get it, Gabby. I really do. But you've told me so much about you already. I want to know all of it. I want to know how you became the person you are now."
Gabriella looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for sincerity. "It's just... it's hard, you know?" she said. "I've had to leave so much behind, things I'd rather not remember. There are things about my family, my childhood—just stuff that... I don't even want to talk about."
Zay nodded slowly, taking her hand in his. "I understand. You don't have to go into details, but... just tell me what you're comfortable with. I'm not going anywhere, Gabby. I need you to know that."
There was a long silence, and Zay could feel the tension in the air. He was giving her the room she needed, but his mind raced with a thousand questions. What happened to her? What had she been through?
Finally, Gabriella spoke again, her voice still soft, but a little steadier. "I grew up in a rough neighborhood. It wasn't easy. My mom was... she wasn't around much. And my dad? Well, let's just say he didn't know how to be a father. There were a lot of nights I went to bed hungry, a lot of days I had to figure out how to survive."
Zay squeezed her hand, feeling a sharp ache in his chest. He had no idea the depth of her struggles, the pain she'd carried all those years. But hearing her say it out loud, even in fragments, made him realize just how strong she was.
"I was in foster care from the time I was seven," she continued, her voice a little shakier now. "And the system... it wasn't kind to me. I was bounced around from house to house, never really feeling like I belonged anywhere. The shelter was the last stop before I turned eighteen. And that's when I met you."
Zay's heart swelled with emotion, and he pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. "You've been through so much, Gabby. I had no idea."
She let out a soft sigh, leaning into him. "Yeah, well... you don't really talk about those things, do you? You just keep moving forward. But there are days when I feel like all of that is just... still there, you know? Like a weight on my chest."
Zay kissed the top of her head, holding her tightly. "I understand more than you think. We're not the same, but we've both had to fight to get where we are now. And I'm not going to leave you, Gabby. Whatever comes with your past, I'm here for it. For you."
Gabriella stayed quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then, with a small smile, she tilted her head to look up at him. "You really mean that, don't you?"
Zay nodded, his eyes full of sincerity. "I do. I want us to be real, Gabby. I want to be here, not just for the good days, but for the tough ones too. And I want to be the person you can lean on, no matter what."
Gabriella's eyes softened, and she gave a small nod. "Thanks, Zay. I didn't think I'd find someone like you—someone who understands. But I'm glad I did."
Zay smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to go through this alone anymore. Not ever again."
That night, they stayed up talking more, learning about each other's pasts, understanding how it had shaped them. It wasn't easy for Gabriella, but for the first time, she felt like the weight of her history wasn't something to hide away in shame. It was part of her—part of what had made her strong. And Zay, despite his own flaws and mistakes, had shown her that it was okay to let someone else in.
In that moment, she knew she could trust him with everything. And Zay, for the first time, felt like he was building a future that was worth fighting for.
To Be Continued...
