The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Gavin

G avin nailed another board to the side of the barn, narrowly missing his cold-numbed fingers with the hammer. He dropped the tool and leaned his head against the wall, trying to stifle his persistent cough. The fatigue was getting worse. He took a few controlled breaths and reached for the tool that had fallen in the snow, barely registering the frigid sear because his hand was already so frozen. He clung to the side of the barn, overcome with a head rush when he came up.

Between working on the house all day, working on his software all evening, and lying awake all night, he knew he was overdoing it. That’s why he was none too pleased to see his brother traipsing out to bother him, even though he held a fresh piece of fruitcake and a beer.

“Ho-ho-ho! Merry Christmas,” Gilbert said.

“Christmas is still a month away.”

Gilbert gave him a solemn look. “Christmas starts November twelfth, Gavin—"

“I’m not hungry.”

“Good, because these are for me.” His fair-weather brother took a seat on the wooden bench outside the barn and balanced the fruitcake on his knee to open his stout.

“Are you going to take a break at some point?”

“I have work to do.”

“Hey, so I never asked, considering you were confessing all your life secrets a month ago, but what happened with Sabrina?” Gilbert asked .

“We…ended things.”

“Did you two hook up?”

Gavin pounded the nail with unnecessary force.

“Come on, Gavin, talk to me. Gabe’s gone all quiet, Gareth is getting broody, and Mom’s pacing circles in the kitchen muttering that the kelpie is going to take you. You’re killing my Christmas Spirit. You know better than anyone that keeping this stuff bottled up isn’t helping. Out with it.”

Gavin pulled up another board. It would appear that Gilbert intended to wait him out, and was, much to his dismay, probably right. Gavin had already revealed the worst of his secrets. What was another mistake to add to his list. “Remember the night I drove you home, the stuff I said to you in the car?” Gilbert nodded, wise enough to keep his mouth shut now that Gavin was playing his pathetic hand on the table. “Well, a coworker of mine, who was in competition for the same job, recorded it. The recording was clipped to the worst bits, and played in front of my colleagues at the retreat, humiliating Sabrina.”

“Shit.”

“But the worst part…” his throat caught “…was that in her own adorable, empathetic way she was upset that I’d lied to her. She said I was acting just like Dad and confronted me with the truth of my actions over these past ten years.”

Gilbert whistled. “Harsh. Have I mentioned how much I like Sabrina?”

Gavin glared again.

“What, you have to let me at least savour this for a moment. Perfect Gavin, dethroned from his pedestal. What did you say to her?”

“I tried to make amends by making her a crowdfunding site for her planner—”

“Ah, the most romantic of gestures.”

“It didn’t go over so well.”

“And then what happened?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean, I walked out, and I’m trying to respect her boundaries.”

“You mean you botched it, and you just gave up.”

“No. I let her go.”

Gavin had believed his lies were doing everyone a favour, but all he’d done was hurt people. What if, despite his best intentions, his actions caused those achingly sweet hazel eyes to well up with tears again. He couldn’t risk making the wrong choice again, hurting her once more. How could he ask her to trust him when he didn’t trust himself?

“She can do a lot better than me,” Gavin added.

“Oh, of that I’ve no doubt,” Gilbert said.

“I’m grouchy, structured, unpleasant…” Gavin leaned into the familiar armour.

“Don’t forget miserly, cold, robotic…” It was a real shame that Gavin’s death stare didn’t work on his brother. Gilbert raised his hands, still holding his stout. “I’m being thorough.”

With Sabrina, Gavin felt like anything was possible. But it didn’t change who he was, not deep down. He’d been too wrapped up in her smile. Wrapped up in the way she saw him. The man he wished he could be and not the pile of human sludge that he was.

“She’s perfection. And I’ll only hurt her again.”

Gilbert took a long drink of his stout, his face turning serious for once. “Nobody’s perfect, Gavin. It’s overrated, boring, sterile.” He shook his head. “But Sabrina, I think she’s perfect for you. You’re marginally more tolerable when you’re with her. And you suit each other. She’s all magic and sunshine and you’re all spreadsheets and storm clouds. But even a rainbow has to touch down to earth so the world can appreciate her arcing beauty.”

Gavin knew that was probably a line from one of Gilbert’s latest movie roles, but before he could clarify, he began coughing. He slumped against the barn wall. The doctor said his illness had turned into pneumonia, much to the chagrin of his project timeline.

“You OK?” Gilbert asked. Gavin nodded as he tried to get his coughing under control. It gave Gilbert a chance to spew more hopeful bullshit. “Gavin, you’re overthinking this. You’re one of the most annoyingly conscientious people I know. You would never intentionally muck things up like that again.” His brother toasted the air with his stout. “You need a grand gesture. Put your heart on the line. Risk everything for love.”

“Gilbert, this isn’t one of your Hallmark movies.”

“Publicly humiliate yourself with a cringe-worthy speech. Even better if someone films it—then I can stitch it on TikTok. I can give you some good pointers; I happen to be very good at grovelling and getting people to forgive me.”

Gavin grumbled in response.

“You have to at least try.”

That was the crux of it. He wanted to. He wanted to prove to her that he might come close to being the man she deserved. To fight his instinct to hide from the truth, embrace vulnerability. But was that more selfish thinking?

Gavin picked up another board, hoping the mortifying feelings-sharing was over, but his brother only sat and watched him as he struggled with the hammer.

“I opened a savings account,” Gilbert said, unprompted, once Gavin had secured another board.

“That’s great,” Gavin replied through the nail he held in his teeth.

“It has auto-deposits.”

Gavin removed the nail. “If you need investment advice… ”

“No, that’s about my capacity for being a responsible adult for the time being.” After another pause, he asked, “How did it feel, saving everyone’s ass financially without even a thank you? With no acknowledgment of your sacrifices? Did you ever feel resentful?”

“Sometimes,” Gavin admitted, “especially when you were being irresponsible. But I was so worried about everyone. Trust me, it sucked. No amount of praise would have been enough.”

“It was totally fucked what you did, but in case no one else has said it, I appreciated it. Thank you.”

Gavin nearly dropped the nail he held.

Gilbert stood and crushed his empty beer can against the wall of the barn. “But Gavin, you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened to Dad. He made his own decisions. And you’ve spent the past ten years making different ones. Maybe you’re allowed to think about what you want right now.”

“Gilbert, I have no job, a mountain of debt riding on our far-fetched project, and I ghosted her for a month. I have nothing.”

Gilbert let out a loud belch. “And you love her.”

Hearing the words aloud sent a jolt of electricity through Gavin. Was it still so obvious?

“You have love, Gavin,” Gilbert repeated. “And Sabrina strikes me as a Beatles fan.”