AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She hiccups against my chest, clinging to me like I’m the last shred of sanity in a world gone mad. No matter how much it guts me to see her like this, I’m glad I did it. It was about time I opened up and shared, instead of relying on her finding out elsewhere.
“Thank you for trusting me,” she murmurs against my jacket.
“Always, Gail. Always.” Because despite every instinct screaming at me to keep her out, here she is, inside the fortress of my pain. And somehow, it feels like she belongs here, with me.
We stay like this until she’s no longer shaking in my arms.
“Come on,” I say gently, pulling back slightly to look at her face, “let’s get out of here.” As we walk away, hand in hand, the weight of my past is still there, but it feels lighter somehow, shared between us like the small smiles we exchange.
Back in the car, Gail suggests we do something else, something that doesn’t make her cry. As much as I love that idea, I have one more stop in mind for us.
“Are you up for going somewhere else with me?” I ask, taking her hand and squeezing it softly.
Narrowing her eyes, she turns so she can look at me. “I would ask where, but I have a feeling you won’t answer this time either. But sure, I’m game.”
The drive to Nana’s apartment is a silent one, but it’s the kind of silence that doesn’t claw at my insides. In fact, it feels remarkably comfortable. Everyone knows the quiet that comes from keeping your words in, the forced kind. But this feels more like something that just is, something we share.
“Here we are,” I say, smiling warmly at Gail as she looks around.
“Should I know where ‘here’ is?”
Laughing, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out, once again opening the door for her. “That depends how much of a stalker you are.” She looks so outraged at my words I can’t help laughing as I take her hand and head toward the elevator. “This is where Nana lives. I bought this apartment for her with my first NHL paycheck.”
Gail’s mouth falls open, her eyes widening. “You’re taking me to meet your nana? What the hell, Soren?” Spinning around so she can see herself in the metal of the elevator, she pats down her hair and adjusts her dress. “Can’t believe I’m dressed like this,” she gripes.
“You look beautiful,” I rasp, stepping out of the elevator. “You always do.”
If I thought my compliments would be well received, the elbow to my stomach proves me wrong. “Don’t sweet talk me right now,” she hisses.
Nana’s door swings open before we even knock, her freakish intuition spot on. Her green eyes find mine, and there’s this spark of something like relief before her gaze lands on Gail. It’s instant, the way her face lights up, like a hundred Christmas trees set ablaze with joy.
“Gail, meet the indomitable force of nature known as Nana,” I introduce, and Gail extends her hand only for it to be enveloped in a warm hug.
“None of that formal nonsense. Come here, child,” Nana says, her voice rich with affection.
They pull apart, and Nana ushers us into the living room, littered with framed photos of my past—a museum of Taylor history, minus the parts we don’t talk about.
“Look at you,” Nana marvels, her eyes scanning Gail’s form, resting for a moment on the gentle swell of her belly, “glowing with life.”
“Thank you, umm…” Gail trails off.
Nana smiles warmly. “Please call me Nana, everyone else does.”
“Thank you, Nana,” Gail quips, earning a laugh from both of us.
“Sit, sit! You must be famished,” Nana insists, directing us toward the couch with a hand that’s seen more years than any of us. After declining our offer to help with anything, she disappears into the kitchen, and I can hear the clinking of porcelain, the prelude to an onslaught of comfort food and tea.
“Your nana is lovely,” Gail whispers, leaning into me a little.
“Wait till she starts with the card tricks and dirty jokes,” I quip, draping an arm around her shoulders.
Laughter spills from Gail, and it’s like music. “Wait, does she really do card tricks?”
“That would be the thing you question,” I chuckle, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and pulling her closer to my side.
Gail wiggles around a little, as though she’s uncomfortable. “Umm, Soren,” she whispers. “Does your nana know—”
“She knows everything,” I confirm.
