Something Blue

Chapter 18

Katherine

Gabe stayed for three hours.

At first she'd been grateful that he was only going to stay for one. But every time he checked his watch. Every time he glanced at her to measure her reaction. Every time he grimaced and tucked the watch back into his pocket with apology scrawled in the hard edges of his face, her choler rose just a little more. And with the growing frustration came a parallel surge of strength.

Drat him for being so considerate! For making her feel like the villain! For murmuring in low, gentle tones to her daughter, making the child laugh and making Katherine's insides grow warm, buzzing with something she hadn't felt in years. For being so beautiful and so terrifying, so kind and so gruff.

Fifty minutes into the first hour, she saw him beginning to fidget. He checked his watch and shifted Isobel's weight from one knee to the other, watching the conversation, clearly waiting for a window to interject with an announcement of his imminent departure.

And she wanted it. Yes, she wanted it! She wanted him gone so she could pull in a breath that didn't hurt.

But also...

"I think it might be time to open presents," she blurted into the next lull in conversation. Amelia quirked an eyebrow and Josh hid a smirk. Melissa grinned, wide and knowing, and turned her attention to Isobel.

"How's that sound to you, little princess?" she asked, and Isobel squealed. Gabe winced at the high-pitched shriek. Katherine knew this because she was watching him, because not watching him sit with her daughter on his knee wasn't an option.

"I think I oughta--"

"You have to stay for presents," Melissa cut him off, and he turned desperate eyes on Katherine.

Help me tell them no, he pleaded silently, that amber gaze sharp and demanding. We had an agreement. For your sake and for mine...

"You really should stay for presents," she said, and wished her voice wasn't drawn quite so tight, so close to snapping.

A muscle in his jaw pulsed and his eyes narrowed. Are you serious?

Her heartbeat fluttered in her chest, and her breath came quick. Was she afraid or excited? Was she thinking of Jacob or thinking of the boy she used to run with in the woods? She lifted her chin and raised her eyebrows. Deadly serious. Stay for presents.

He drew a deep breath, shoulders rising. And then he held it, his fingers drumming against his knee. Before he could muster another silent message, she squared her shoulders and dug deep into the vault of remembered freedom buried within her. She shoved aside the mess of Jacob's fists and oil-slick rages, his ownership of her body, and the constant worry for Rebecca's safety. She pushed all the evil away and found herself with Gabe, years ago, sometime in the early spring, somewhere in the trees by the quiet rush of the river.

She was twelve and he a gangly, sullen thirteen. She wanted to play hide and seek and he said it was a stupid game for stupid little kids. Instead of arguing, she threw herself at him. Tackled him right off his feet into the melting snow. They rolled and wrestled, icy slush soaking into their clothes as they tumbled about in a tangle of limbs. They weren't really fighting. They never really fought. As she elbowed him and tugged him about with a fist in his threadbare shirt, she was really just saying that she wished he'd play with her. As he tickled her to tears and rolled her to her back, he was really just apologizing.

And then he was on all fours over top of her, his nose and cheeks red from the chill and his hair damp from the handful of slush she had dumped over his head. She glared up at him and crossed her arms over her chest.