After coffee, we hung out at my apartment for a few hours. At seven that evening, Ricky walked me over to Rose's and handed me and TC off. He'd come by later, and we'd go back to my place for the night.
Gabriel had retreated to one of the upstairs bedrooms to work.
"Run up and get him," Rose said.
I followed her into the kitchen and lowered my voice.
"Um, I'd rather speak to you alone for--"
She cut me off. "I know you're annoyed with him, Olivia."
"I'm not."
"He handled that billing discussion badly."
"If I let things like that bother me, I'd be permanently pissed off with him. I've learned what to expect, and not to expect anything more. We're fine."
It seemed a good way to put it, balancing honesty with diplomacy, but I could tell by her expression that it wasn't what she wanted to hear. It can be hard knowing how to discuss Gabriel with Rose. She's the first to acknowledge his flaws, but the first to defend him, too. Something in what I'd said rubbed her the wrong way.
So I continued. "He's been great to me these last few days. I know he's put his life on hold to help me, and maybe I haven't been grateful enough about that."
"If you make a big deal out of it, you'll only make him uncomfortable. But he'll want to be here when we discuss anything fae-related."
"It's something else. A vision, I think."
My hands started to shake, and I stuffed them into my pockets.
"Olivia . . . ?"
"Ghosts," I blurted. "Have you ever seen them? Do you believe in them?"
She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "What happened?"
"Before I found James, I . . . I saw him. In the Villa. Twice. The first time, it was just a moment. He was . . . confused. He didn't know where he was. And then I saw him again, and he was still confused, but he tried to explain things to me. He--" I broke off with a "Shit," and moved to the back
door, looking out over the yard.
"Sorry," I said after I'd regained my composure. "It's still . . . raw. We'll discuss this another time. Or maybe not. It was almost certainly just a vision or whatever in which I imagined him saying what I wanted to hear."
"Was he wearing whatever you found him in? No, that's not a question. It's a fact, because otherwise, you'd already have dismissed it as a hallucination."
"I--"
"You want it to be real, and you don't want it to be real."
Cold sweat beaded across my forehead and trickled between my shoulder blades. She was right. I didn't want it to be real, because it only made it harder, made the guilt more unbearable.
All I wanted was to get you back. He said he'd help and then . . . it went wrong, and I don't understand how. I know I hurt you, frightened you, and I don't understand that, either. It seemed so simple. You were in danger, and I had to save you, and nothing else mattered.
I'd wanted an explanation, so badly. And here it was.
What had I done?
You got him involved. You pulled him into something he didn't understand, couldn't understand. You pulled him in, and then you abandoned him.
"Olivia?"
My head snapped up. Rose was right there, but she hadn't spoken. That was Gabriel, standing in the doorway, those pale blue eyes fixed on me.