CHAPTER SEVENTY

**GABRIEL**
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when I came in and saw Carrie seated on our porch, looking dejected. She was dressed in all-black drab, her eyes hidden behind large black shades, and her hair had gone from its waist-length body wave to a bob cut with a fringe. Even from a distance, I could sense the despair radiating from her, almost tasting it in the thick air. I knew immediately, the moment I set eyes on her, that something was wrong.
“Carrie,” I said in surprise as I approached her.
Despite the situation, I felt Oliver’s hand stiffen in mine, his body freezing at the sight of her. A memory flickered through my mind—back to my mother’s hometown, where Oliver had consistently blamed her for everything that went wrong in his life. I was tempted to ask her what she had done to him, but a larger part of me insisted on letting it go for now.
As I got close enough, she stood from the porch and threw herself into my arms. Her arms wrapped tightly around me, and despite the sunglasses, I could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving dark spots on my shirt. I held her, stroking her back and whispering comforting words in her ear as she cried. The warmth of her body against mine was a stark reminder of how much she had always meant to me.
“Talk to me, Carrie,” I urged her gently. “What’s the problem?”
She pulled away slightly, carefully removing her glasses. Red, puffy, teary, and angry eyes greeted mine as she furiously wiped away her tears with her scarf. “Gabriel,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “Carlos is dead.”
The words struck me like a physical blow, a shockwave that reverberated through my body. Carlos—her husband, the man I had never liked, a man who had left a trail of emotional destruction in his wake. I took a steadying breath, feeling both sorrow and a twisted relief. “What happened?” I managed to ask, my voice steady despite the emotional turmoil within me.
“He… he was in an accident,” she said, her voice breaking again as she buried her face in my shoulder. “They said he lost control of the car. It was late at night, and…” Her sobs wracked her body, and I held her tighter, wishing I could erase her pain. I couldn’t help but remember the countless times Carlos had hurt her, the emotional scars he had left behind, and now, here she was—broken but alive.
“What a horrible way to go,” I whispered, my heart aching for her. She had endured so much already; the thought of Carlos’ death should have felt like justice, but it didn’t. Not now.
“I never wanted it to end like this,” she whispered against my shoulder, her voice muffled. “He was still my husband, despite everything. I just… I didn’t think it would happen.”
I pulled back to look into her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. “Did you love him, Carrie?” The question slipped out before I could think better of it.
She hesitated, her breath hitching. “I thought I did. Or maybe I just loved the idea of what we could have been. But he… he changed.” Her face twisted in anguish, and she looked away. “I wanted to be happy, but I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I wanted to argue that she deserved better, that she deserved a life free of his manipulations, but I kept my mouth shut. I was here for her now. “What do you need?” I asked softly.
“I wanted to stay here for a while,” she said, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Just until I can get back on my feet. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation. “You can stay as long as you want. I’ve always wanted you to stay with me anyway.” The sincerity of my words surprised even me, but it felt right. Carrie had always been like a sister to me. “You know you’re welcome here.”
Her face lit up for the briefest moment, a flicker of hope breaking through the storm clouds of despair. “Thank you, Gabriel. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
As we stood there, enveloped in the warmth of our shared history, I felt Oliver’s presence lingering behind us, his discontent palpable. I turned to him, only to find him watching us with a guarded expression.
“Who was Carlos?” Oliver asked, breaking the silence, his brow furrowing in confusion.
I turned to Carrie, surprised. “You never told him?” I expected her to shake her head, but instead, she looked ashamed.
“Carlos isn’t the type of husband you tell people about,” she said bitterly.
I looked back at Oliver, sensing the confusion and frustration etched on his face. “Carlos was her husband,” I answered, my voice flat. I noticed Oliver’s expression shift, surprise flickering across his features.
“Married?” he echoed, disbelief evident in his tone. “I didn’t know you were married, Carrie.”
“Because it wasn’t worth mentioning,” she replied, wiping away another tear. “I should’ve known better than to think it would work out.”
Oliver crossed his arms, shifting his weight. “Why now, Carrie? Why come here?” His tone was more accusatory than curious, and I could feel the tension rising between us.
She glanced at Oliver, her expression a mix of hurt and defensiveness. “Because I have nowhere else to go,” she replied, her voice steadier. “Because I thought I could count on you both.”
I could see Oliver’s skepticism deepening. “It’s not like you didn’t have options. You could’ve gone to anyone.”
“Anyone who would take me in after all the drama with Carlos? You don’t understand,” she snapped, the frustration bubbling up. “He was controlling, and he made it impossible for me to reach out for help. When he was around, I felt like a prisoner.”
“Maybe that’s true, but you could’ve called,” Oliver said, his voice rising. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”
“Do you think I wanted to? Do you think I wanted to feel so trapped that I felt like I had to keep everything a secret?” Carrie’s voice broke, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like to be in that situation, Oliver.”
Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I just don’t want her here, Gabriel. It’s complicated.”
I took a step closer to him, trying to rein in the frustration I felt. “What’s complicated about wanting to help someone who’s hurting?”
“Because she’s trouble!” he snapped, his eyes flashing. “We’ve been down this road before. She brings chaos.”
“Maybe she does, but right now she’s hurting,” I countered. “She’s lost her husband, whether we liked him or not. I can’t turn her away when she needs support.”
“I just don’t like it,” Oliver said, lowering his voice but still filled with tension. “I’m not happy with her staying here.”
“Fine,” I replied, taking a breath to calm myself. “But I’ll help her get resettled as soon as I can. Just trust me on this.”
Oliver’s brow furrowed, the lines on his face deepening with concern. “If anything goes wrong, I’m holding you responsible.”
“Deal,” I said, grateful for his reluctant acceptance, even if it was grudging. I turned back to Carrie, who had settled onto the edge of the porch, staring blankly at the ground. I felt a pang of sadness for her, knowing that she had lost so much.
“Carrie,” I called gently, walking back to her. “You’re safe here. We’ll figure this out together.”
She nodded, a faint smile breaking through her tears. “I want to believe that, Gabriel.”
“You will,” I promised. “Just give yourself time.”
As the evening wore on, I felt the weight of our shared past settle over us like a warm blanket, binding us together. Each laugh, each tear we had shared over the years replayed in my mind like a familiar melody, reminding me of the bond we had forged through both joy and hardship. Memories of late-night conversations filled with dreams and fears danced in the back of my thoughts, and I realized how much she had always meant to me. The weight of her grief felt palpable, yet I was filled with an unwavering determination to help her find her footing once more.
Carrie’s presence brought back a flood of memories, both good and bad, reminding me of the years when we navigated the complexities of life together. I thought of the times she had stood by me, cheering me on through my struggles, her laughter a comforting constant that kept my spirits up. Now, as she faced the darkest moment of her life, I was resolute in my decision to be her anchor, to provide her with the support she needed to rise from the ashes of her past.
The evening light shifted, casting long shadows across the porch, and the warmth of the setting sun wrapped around us like a comforting embrace. I watched as she wiped her eyes, her vulnerability lay bare, yet there was a flicker of strength behind her tears. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone in this journey; I was here, ready to help her navigate whatever came next. And as for Oliver, I hoped he would come to see Carrie not as a threat but as the sister she had always been to me. Together, we would find a way through the darkness, one day at a time.
As the stars began to twinkle above us, I wrapped an arm around Carrie, letting her lean against me. She felt fragile, like a bird with a broken wing, and I wanted to help her fly again. The world might have dealt her a cruel hand, but together, we would face whatever came next.
“Carrie,” I said softly, breaking the silence, “You’re going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
She looked up at me, a glimmer of hope shining through her pain. “Thank you for being here, Gabriel. It means more than I can say.”
“Just take it one day at a time,” I encouraged, kneeling beside her. “You’re not alone anymore.”
Determined to help her reclaim her sense of self, I mentally prepared for the long road ahead. It wouldn’t be easy; healing never is. But as the stars began to twinkle overhead, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Our bond was strong enough to withstand even the darkest of storms. Together, we would face the challenges ahead, each step reinforcing the ties that bound us.
As we sat there together, I felt Oliver’s presence lingering behind us, still watching us with a guarded expression. I knew he was worried about the implications of Carrie’s presence in our home. But as I glanced at him, I also saw something else in his eyes—a flicker of understanding.