“So you uh… You gonna be ok?” He knows how bad I was when Carly died. He was there for me every step of the way.

“Things suck, man,” I sigh. “But I have Hannah.” I smile, glancing in the mirror and see her sleeping already. “I have to be good.”

“You have more than Hannah, you know?”

“Yeah, man. I do,” I smile, parking in front of Gabby’s building. The smile grows as I watch her run through the rain that’s started so she doesn’t get too wet. “I absolutely know, Adam. Don’t worry.”

“Good,” he grunts.

“I gotta go, man. Gab’s here,” I say, as she hops in the car and slams the door.

“Treat him good, Gabby,” Adam warns.

She chuckles and shakes her head.

“I wouldn’t worry about me, Mr. Chicago,” she says sarcastically. “I’m still sticking to my promise from last year. Make your fiancé happy, Adam.”

He grumbles something, and hangs up shortly after. I’m slightly confused, but I don’t care enough to inquire. I don’t really want to talk right now. The mindless chatter with Adam was nice, but, the truth of the matter is, I’m about to go to my parents’ house for the first time since my mom died and I’m not sure what to expect. Do I act like it’s just a normal day? Do I try talking to my dad, or do I leave him alone? When this happened with Carly, Adam took care of a lot of the details because I couldn’t function. Am I going to have to do this with my dad?

About half way to their house, Gabby reaches over, and silently takes my hand in hers, running her thumb up and down mine, a silent reminder that she’s here for me. I’m thankful she hasn’t tried talking about my mom. I’m happy she’s here, and I’m thrilled that she seems to understand I need silence to help me cope.

By the time we make it to my dad’s, it’s late morning and he’s sitting on the porch. He’s changed clothes, and looks like he’s showered and shaven. That’s a good sign. Gabby gets Hannah out of the back without saying a word as I head to the porch, hands in my pockets, not entirely sure how to act right now. Inside, I want to curl into a ball and cry for weeks straight. My mom is gone. I’ll never get her back, but I can’t dwell on that. I can’t dwell on the sadness, because I have a life that relies on me. I have to be strong for her. For everyone.

My dad’s eyes are sad, but alert. He seems a little better than last night, but still looks like shit.

“Hey,” I manage, walking onto the porch. He nods and moves his gaze to Gabby, who’s a few steps behind me. “Oh dad… uh… this is Gabby,” I manage a weak smile and he smiles brightly at her.

“Hi,” she says happily. “I’m so sorry for your loss. I hope it’s okay I’m here.” She offers her hand for a handshake, but my dad surprises us both and stands to hug her.

“Thank you for being here, Gabby,” he whispers, then lets go and takes Hannah from her arms.

“Come on, sweet pea. Grandpa has breakfast to make my baby girl,” he tells Hannah, just like any other morning we come over.

I watch him, astonished that he could go from distraught to cheerful in a matter of seconds.

“Kids seem to help in times like this,” Gabby says, her hand resting on my elbow, like she can tell exactly what I’m thinking. “You good?” she asks, a reassuring smile on her face.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

She smiles and nods, then we head inside for a day filled with picking out my mother’s final outfit, making funeral arrangements, and entertaining a one year old.

By the time we leave, the sun it setting and Hannah’s asleep in Gabby’s arms. Gabby did fantastic today, and, other than a few moments when I caught her off guard and saw a few looks of panic on her face, she’s a total pro with Hannah and was the backbone between the three adults.

It’s like she knows exactly what we’re going through.

Who is this woman, and how soon is too soon to tell her I love her?

Gabby

The Only One

Last night, Benton made love to me. It wasn’t just sex, and it was a far cry from fucking. The look in his eyes said it all, but he never said the words. Every day when I wake up, I have to remind myself not to have an attack if he decides to finally verbalize his feelings for me. I see it, but it doesn’t mean I should like it.

I mean… I do like it. I love it. I love the feeling of being wanted, but I don’t like the feeling that I’m going to inevitably screw something up. I love being around him, I love watching him with Hannah, and I love the man he is when he thinks I’m not looking. All of it is what any girl would dream of, and what I used to dream of. The dream I had last night was all too real, though, reminding me that I’m not meant for this life.

***

“You good for nothing bitch,” she growls, kicking me again right in the stomach. I pray to a god I don’t even believe in that I’m not far along enough for it to hurt the baby, but I can’t be sure. I don’t have insurance, and I haven’t seen a doctor yet. I just know I’m pregnant, and that the baby belongs to my ex. The man who took the one thing I held dear, the one thing I had control over, and ran with it, leaving me with a child on the way. No income, no health insurance, no place to raise this poor tiny being… but I’m not giving up.

“I’m leaving, mom,” I say, cringing when I stand up. The pain in my abdomen hurts just a slight bit less than the hit I took a few weeks ago. Maybe she’s lessening her blows to make sure she doesn’t hurt the baby.

Doubtful.

“Right. With no man, no money, and no schooling?” She barks out a laugh, and then starts coughing through the smoke.

“I’m finishing school, Mom. I can do both,” I say, standing my ground. “There’s ways to do it. I won’t be a deadbeat.” Like you.

“Please. You do that, do finish school and get your fucking degree. You’re just like your fucking father, you know that.” Her insinuation that I’m like him pisses me off, and I storm out of the house to be met with the face of the first man I ever gave myself to.

And the father of my child.

“Gabrielle.”

***

“Hey,” Benton’s voice sooths my flashback, bringing me back into the real world. His arms wrap around me as I slide back down in bed. It’s amazing… I can take all the medicine in the world, but the best thing to calm me… the only, fastest thing… is Benton.

“Hi,” I say, smiling. Out of habit, my eyes flick to the clock and see the time. Seven a.m.…. One hour until the first round of pills.

Ever since the night his mom passed, I’ve been doubling up on some of my anxiety pills to help with getting myself through it. I haven’t had an episode like that night again, but there’ve been moments these last few days that I thought I wasn’t going to make it out of the room before breaking down.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, tracing his fingers down my arm. Every time his hands come to me, I get goosebumps, and, every time he notices, he traces them, smiling. Like he’s happy he can get a reaction out of me that easily.

“Nothing,” I lie. Everything’s on my mind, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t let on that I’m so broken, and have to fill up on pills every damn day just to function like a normal human being.

He nods and grins, then sighs and puts his arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

“You know, when I was younger, my mom and I would lay in her bed and stare at the cracks in the ceiling, seeing what shapes we could make out from them.” The chuckle that comes out of him makes me hope he’s starting to get through this disaster.

And a disaster it has been.

These last few days we’ve been through hell, but I like to think I’ve been able to help him through it and make it out on the other side unscathed. Benton loved his mom… he still loves her… and it shows in the way that he raises his little girl. I’ve watched him more this week than I’ve had the chance to these last few months, and, if I were capable of loving someone, I’d have fallen in love with him ten times over just from the way he treats Hannah.