The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

29. Cecilia

cecilia

. . .

“You should probably answer him,” Adriana says, flopping down on the bed beside me. She hands me my phone, her eyes narrowed with curiosity. Her fingers tapping against her bedspread in a restless rhythm.

A quick glance at the screen shows Gabriel’s name flashing across it. I silence the call, the sound disappearing as I set the phone on the bedspread beside me. “I’ll call him back later.” My pulse drums louder than it should.

Adriana scowls up at me. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Nothing.” The word tastes sour. I lean back against the pillows, trying to shrug it off. “I’m just not in the mood to talk. Besides, I’m here visiting you right now.” I nudge her with my foot, hoping to divert her attention. “It’s not a big deal.”

She doesn’t buy it. Not even a little. “Bullshit.” She throws a pillow at me, dead-on aim, her eyes accusing me of lying. “What am I missing?”

I sigh, grabbing the pillow and hugging it to my chest. “Nothing. I just—” I hesitate, biting down on my bottom lip. I don’t really know how to explain it. “After the game, things got … weird.”

“Weird how?” Adriana pushes, sitting up straighter now, all her attention on me.

I hesitate, the words sticking in my throat. The pit in my stomach from this morning hasn’t gone away. It’s only gotten heavier. “I told him not to come to court on Monday. For the sentencing.”

Adriana’s confusion deepens, her brows pulling together. “Why would you tell him not to come? He’s been with you through everything, Cecilia. I thought you’d want him there.”

I close my eyes, letting out a frustrated breath. “I know,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, “It’s not that I don’t want Gabriel to be there. It’s just … I don’t know what to expect. I haven’t seen Austin since the arrest, and just thinking about him and the others makes me want to crawl out of my skin. It’s like all of a sudden, I can’t breathe,” I confess. “ And I’m doing good now— we’re doing good—but what if I fall apart when I walk into that courtroom? I don’t want Gabriel to watch me break down again.”

“Cecilia.” Her voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it. She’s not letting me off easy. “You don’t know how you’ll react. You might be fine.”

“No.” I shake my head, pressing the heel of my hand to my chest, trying to ease the tightness. “I won’t be. It’s Austin, Adriana. I’ll lose it. I know I will.” I’ve been building this up in my head ever since Mr. Ayala gave me the date, and no matter which way I look at it, I’m not going to be okay. “And Gabriel—he finally sees me as strong, as someone who’s capable. Not some broken thing in need of saving. I can’t let him see me weak again. Not when we’ve come this far.”

Adriana stares at me for a beat, her fingers twisting around the loose thread of her shirt. She’s silent, but the weight of her gaze is enough to make me squirm.

“I don’t get it,” she says. “You guys are doing great. Solid, even.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I whisper, opening my eyes to look at her. “We’ve worked so hard to get here. In the beginning, it was like he was always walking on eggshells. We both were. But now, he treats me like an equal. Not some sad, broken little thing in need of fixing. I can’t risk falling apart in front of him. When I see Austin, Parker, and Gregory ... if I have a panic attack or just … break, it’ll remind him of that girl he first met. The one who was so broken and lifeless and bloodied on the locker room floor.” I rub my thumb over the scars on my wrists. The ones I don’t bother hiding anymore. “It’ll remind him that I’m someone in need of saving.”

Adriana’s lips part as if to say something, but she stops, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Cecilia,” she starts, her voice soft but firm, “I get why you’d feel that way, I do. But ...” She shifts, sitting up straighter, her hands gripping the edge of the bed now. “You’re not the only one with damage.” She shakes her head, her dark hair shifting with the motion. “He’s not going to see you as weak because you struggle. He knows how strong you are. And honestly, pushing him away when he’s trying to be there for you? It’s cruel.”

Her words sting, sharp and undeniable, like a slap to the face. My breath hitches, guilt surging like a wave. “I’m not trying to push him away,” I admit, my voice small. “I just … I’m scared, Adriana. I don’t want him to look at me like I’m broken again.”

She reaches out, her hand covering mine. “Do you love him?” she asks me.

The question hits me hard. I blink at her, caught off guard. “What?”

“Love,” she says. “Do you love him? You don’t need to answer that question. Not for me. But I think you need to decide for yourself whether or not you love him. And if you do, then figure out if you can accept his love in return. Because being there for you, Cecilia, that’s how Gabriel shows you he loves you. Taking care of you and protecting you. Keeping you out of harm's way. He does that for you because nobody ever did it for him. The people who’ve claimed to love him the most are the ones who carved his deepest wounds. Can you let him love you the way he needs to? Or will you break his heart all over again by refusing to let him love you in the way that is his?

I inhale sharply. “Loving me is one thing. But I can’t be protected twenty-four-seven. Not from living life itself.”

Adriana nods. Her expression thoughtful. “I wasn’t there when Carlos died,” she tells me. “I’d already fucked up by then so I wasn’t in their friend group at the time. But I saw what he was like in the wake of it all. The empty, hollow shell.”

My heart hurts thinking of what it must have been like, losing his twin like that. It’s hard to think of Gabriel as a shell of himself when the Gabriel I see now is so vibrant and full of life.

“I wasn’t there when his parents got divorced either,” she tells me. “Or when his mom started taking the pictures of his brother and then of him down from her walls. We weren’t friends when his mom stopped looking at him. Or when his Dad started spending more time in the office or at a bar than he did at home.”

Her smile is soft and sad. “Alejandra didn’t leave by choice. But she left nonetheless. In the thick of Gabriel’s world falling apart when at the time, she was probably the only person he’d have accepted comfort from.”

I don’t ask how she knows about all of that. Adriana’s known Gabriel and the others since they were kids. And honestly, I don’t really care how she knows, because her words dump a bucket of ice-cold water over my head and make me instantly realize my mistake as I piece together the losses Adriana lays out for me.

His twin brother commits suicide.

His mother openly rejects him.

His father loses himself to alcohol and his grief.

One of his best friends moves away.

In such a short span of time, Gabriel lost so much.

Some by choice and others not, but still, the effect is all the same.

And now, here I am, doing very much the same. By protecting myself, I’m pushing him away. Rejecting him in a similar manner to that of everyone else who came before. I’m hurting Gabriel. I didn’t think about how much he’s already lost. How much it probably costs him every time he opens up, every time he fights for me, for us, knowing how easily rejection can come.

Oh my god. Last night … What did I do?

“You’re right,” I murmur, squeezing her hand back. “You’re so right. I can’t—” my breath seizes in my lungs. “I was selfish. I’ll fix this. I’ll—” I can’t finish the sentence. My chest is so tight. Gabriel had been forced into the role of protector. He was our very own Guardian Angel. I always thought of him as strong. Untouchable. But I never stopped to look at the flip side.

Abandonment.

No wonder Gabriel held on so tight.

No wonder he wanted to fix all of my problems. To protect me and make sure I was always okay.

No wonder he wanted to save me.

Because nobody bothered to save him when he needed saving.

Adriana's smile is soft. “It’s hard to see the hurt when someone is so good at hiding it,” she tells me. “And Gabriel’s had a lot of practice.”

“I’m going to fix this,” I tell her.

She nods, though her eyes still hold that familiar weight. “I know,” she tells me. “Because you love him.”

A ghost of a smile plays over my lips. “Yeah. I really do.”

“Damn straight,” she says with a playful shove. Then, she leans back, eyes on the ceiling. “You two are good together.”

Despite everything, I laugh, the tension easing just a little. “Thanks, Adriana.”

“Anytime,” she says, her lips quirking up into a smirk. “Now, seriously, go home and call your man back before he blows up your phone again. You know he’s not gonna let it go.”

I pick up my phone, glancing at Gabriel’s missed call with a new sense of clarity. She’s right. He won’t let it go—because he cares. Because he loves me. And I need to show him I feel the same, that I trust him with all of me, the good and the broken.