“Well…” Martha stood. “As I said, you’re the boss so what you say goes. But Gabe…
I looked up into Martha’s blue-grey eyes. I’d known her for a long time. She’d never asked anything of me, not when I made crazy changes or asked for things that sounded impossibly stupid. “Yeah?”
“You know I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Ha, if only she knew how many offers I had on that front. Talking was not what I needed.
“Thanks.” I licked my lips. “I’ll remember.”
With a sad nod, she walked out of the room.
Sighing, I ran my fingers through my hair and looked at the clock on the wall. It was ten till. Saylor would be arriving any minute.
I could do this. I had to.
Closing my eyes, I reminded myself why I was choosing to put myself in her life — when really I wanted to run in the other direction, because Wes had been totally right.
I was attracted to her… and that was a feeling I hadn’t had in a really long time. The last time I’d acted on my feelings, things had gone horribly wrong.
Besides. It would never happen.
Because I still had Princess.
And that was the problem. I hated that I wanted something I couldn’t have, and Saylor? I wanted her, very, very much.
Chapter Twenty
Watching someone you love go through difficult times is like being trapped in your own body but paralyzed. You want to yell at them, scream, help them, but your body won’t move, and you know that no matter how hard you try, in the end, the path is theirs to choose. You can’t choose for them. What a terrifying concept, especially considering we hardly see every option when we’re stuck in our own self-defeat. Sometimes, I just want to yell, “Look up!” But it always seems the time I say that, is the time Gabe closes his eyes. —Wes M.
Saylor
I forced a smile as I greeted the security guards at the door and made my way to the sign-in desk.
Martha eyed me briefly before asking for my cell phone and sending me on my way.
I was planning on showing everyone a musical for my instruction today to get them excited about learning a few new songs, so at least I wouldn’t have to stand in front of everyone and talk, not that I minded it. It was just kind of stressful, and ever since Gabe’s outburst about me being ugly — well, let’s just say I was feeling a bit self conscious.
I’d even thrown away that stupid sweatshirt.
At least I didn’t look homeless anymore.
I pulled open the metal doors to the game room.
And almost turned and ran.
Gabe was fidgeting with the TV/DVD player, while a few of the residents sat around and waited.
My palms started sweating as I took a few cautious steps toward them. Okay, don’t freak out, he’s probably just helping set up the movie for me.
When I reached the front of the room, I forced myself to give him a friendly smile as I tapped on his shoulder.
“What?” He didn’t turn around.
And politeness just ran out the window.
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
“Oh!” Gabe jerked h