The Loneliest Stars

Chapter 30

Mexican after work y/y? — G.

Gabe texted Natalia. It was the last day before school let out for Thanksgiving break. He had a real hankering for tacos, and felt bad that Natalia seemed to do all the cooking for them in the last two weeks. He had to admit, it was nice to come home to a hot meal waiting, it spoke to the knuckle-dragger in him but he wasn't a completely unevolved asshole. They had the same 24 hours in the day, it was unfair that she spent more than her fair share cooking.

Got a GP appointment after work, take Lima I'll meet you guys after — N.

GP? — G.

Doctor's appointment, sorry I was speaking English again :s — N.

He smiled at his phone at her shady comment about their differences in lexicon, despite the burgeoning panic building in his belly. Why was she going to see a doctor? She had been fine that morning when they drove to work together. She would have told him if something was wrong, he hoped. He tried to not to let his thoughts spiral. There could be a million perfectly normal and healthy reasons to go to the doctor's.

Lol. Everything okay? — G.

Yes — N.

Can you elaborate? — G.

He felt himself getting frustrated with her vague answers. Perhaps text wasn't the best medium to have this discussion. Especially the argument they had at the weekend, things were still tender and raw between them. She had been sleeping in her own bed the past couple of days, claiming that she wanted to spend some time with her friend before she left. He respected that, if that was the case, but he couldn't help the feeling that she was trying to enforce some sort of emotional distance between them, again.

??? — N.

He locked his cell off in anger. There was something about her sending three consecutive question marks that made him want to wring her pretty little neck. He placed his cell on the desk next to him and resumed his work on reconciling the monthly spend on the team, so accounts could pay off some invoices they had received. But he couldn't concentrate. He picked up his phone and shot off a text without pausing to think it through.

So being open and honest is only for me? Got it. — G.

It was petty and he felt like shit as soon as he sent it. Being passive-aggressive always made him feel emasculated, he was a Marine. He dealt in direct words and actions not in petty one-upmanship.

He found her waiting in his office at the end of the teaching day. She was sitting on the chair at his desk, looking at the papers strewn around his computer. He hadn't finished his admin work, mainly because he had been distracted by her.

"Hi," she said with a timid smile. Her brown eyes were soft and contrite. She chewed on her bottom lip, thoughtfully.

"Hey." Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. He held himself away from her, waiting for her to speak.

"I'm sorry, I know I was being a massive shit earlier," she apologised, and Gabe didn't actually think she'd ever apologised to him. He felt his anger suddenly ebb like the foamy suds of a beach wave.

"Well, I don't know about a massive shit, maybe a little one," he offered, smiling. She gave him a relieved smile.

"Are we good?"

"Yes — actually..." He sighed, turning his body sideways, so she couldn't see the expression on his face. He didn't want her pity, the thought of being pitied and thought of less than the strong man he was made his hands clammy with anxiety. But he had promised he'd be more open and honest. That involved letting her see broken parts of him, that he had hastily put back together. Still jagged, still raw.