Updated Oct 29, 2025 • ~12 min read
Gabriel showed up at the bookstore again the next morning with two coffees.
Jane was opening up, still half-asleep, when she saw him through the window. Standing on the sidewalk. Waiting.
She unlocked the door with a sigh. “You’re persistent.”
“Good morning to you too.” He held out one of the cups. “Decaf latte. Mrs. Gallagher said you always get one from the coffee shop down the street.”
“You’re bribing my neighbors for information about me?”
“I prefer to think of it as community building.” Gabriel followed her inside. “Can we talk?”
“We talked yesterday. At length.”
“I know. But there’s more I need to say.” He looked around the empty bookstore. “When does your boss get here?”
“Not until ten. He trusts me to open.” Jane flipped on lights, started the opening routine. “Which means you have about two hours to say whatever you need to say and then leave before Marcus starts asking questions.”
“Two hours. Got it.” Gabriel set his coffee down, watching her move through the space. “You like it here. The bookstore.”
It wasn’t a question, but Jane answered anyway. “It’s quiet. Peaceful. Nobody asks me to be anyone I’m not.”
“Who did you have to be? Before?”
Jane paused in the middle of straightening a display. “David’s wife. Vivienne’s sister. My mother’s perfect daughter. The face of the Ashford Foundation.” She resumed straightening, not looking at him. “Everyone had an idea of who Celeste Astor should be. Nobody cared who I actually was.”
Gabriel was quiet for a moment. “I cared.”
“You didn’t even talk to me.”
“Because I cared.” He moved closer, but not too close. Giving her space. “Can I tell you something? Something I should have told you years ago?”
Jane’s hands stilled on the books. “What?”
“I knew the first time I met you that David was wrong for you.”
She turned to face him. “When was the first time?”
“Your wedding day.”
Five years ago
Gabriel had stood in the back of the church, watching his brother get married.
It was a beautiful ceremony. Everything perfect, everything planned down to the last detail. White roses everywhere. String quartet playing something classical and expensive. Three hundred guests in their finest clothes, here to witness the union of David Astor and Celeste Ashford.
A merger of old money and older money. That’s how their father had described it before he died. “Good match. Smart boy, David. Marrying for the right reasons.”
Gabriel had kept his mouth shut about what those reasons were.
He’d arrived late deliberately. Slipped into the back pew just as the processional started. Watched the bridesmaids walk down the aisle—Vivienne leading them, smiling like she’d already won something.
Then the bride.
Celeste had looked like a dream in white silk. Dark hair swept up, face radiant, holding a bouquet of white peonies. Walking toward David like he was her future.
And Gabriel had felt something twist in his chest.
She was so young. Only twenty-three. Eyes full of hope and trust and love for a man who didn’t deserve any of it.
Gabriel had watched her reach the altar. Watched David take her hand. Watched them say their vows—promising to love and honor and cherish until death.
Watched Celeste smile.
It was a real smile. Unguarded. Full of joy.
Gabriel remembered thinking: she has no idea what she just did.
At the reception, he’d kept his distance. Nursed a scotch at the bar while everyone else danced and celebrated. Watched David work the room—always working, always calculating, always playing the charming groom.
Watched Celeste try to keep up.
She’d changed into a simpler dress for the reception. Something that let her move more freely. She’d been talking to guests, accepting congratulations, playing her role perfectly.
But Gabriel had seen the moment her smile started to slip.
It was during the father-daughter dance. Celeste and her father on the floor, swaying to something slow and sentimental. The old man had been saying something to her—Gabriel couldn’t hear what—and Celeste had nodded. Kept smiling.
But the smile didn’t reach her eyes anymore.
And then David had cut in. Took over the dance. Pulled Celeste close and whispered something in her ear that made her laugh.
But it was a different laugh. Smaller. More careful.
Gabriel had set down his drink and left early.
Couldn’t stomach watching any more.
“I remember that,” Jane said quietly. Present day. Standing in the bookstore. “My father told me I needed to make David happy. That marriage was about compromise and sacrifice. That I should be grateful to marry into the Astor family.”
Gabriel’s jaw clenched. “What did David say?”
“He told me I looked tired. That I should try to smile more for the photos.” Her voice was flat. “Said it was our special day and I was ruining it by being emotional.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I thought he was right. I thought I was being too emotional.” Jane wrapped her arms around herself. “That was the first time I made myself smaller for him. It wasn’t the last.”
Gabriel moved closer. “There was another time. A family dinner. Do you remember?”
Jane’s face went pale. “Which one? There were so many.”
“Two years ago. Thanksgiving.”
The Astor estate dining room. Thanksgiving dinner.
Gabriel had only come because his mother had asked before she died. “Promise me you’ll try with your brother. Promise you won’t let the family fall apart.”
So he’d shown up. Brought wine. Prepared to endure a few hours of David’s company for the sake of a promise to a ghost.
The table had been set beautifully. Crystal and china and silver. All the trappings of old money and tradition. David at the head, Celeste at his right hand. Vivienne across from her. A few business associates and their wives filling out the rest.
Celeste had cooked most of it herself. Gabriel knew because he’d arrived early and found her in the kitchen, stressed and exhausted, trying to get everything perfect.
“David likes everything to be perfect,” she’d said when Gabriel offered to help. “It’s important.”
Dinner had been perfect. The turkey, the sides, the pies. Everything exactly right.
And David had found something to criticize anyway.
“Celeste, darling, you overcooked the turkey a bit.” Said casually, in front of everyone. “It’s a little dry.”
Gabriel had watched her face. Watched her smile falter.
“I’m sorry,” she’d said quietly. “I can—”
“No, no, it’s fine. We’ll make do.” David had squeezed her hand. Affectionate to anyone watching. “You tried your best. That’s what matters.”
But his eyes had been cold.
Vivienne had jumped in then. “It’s actually delicious, Celeste. You did amazing. Much better than I could do.”
The comment had seemed supportive. But Gabriel had caught something underneath it. A smugness. A knowledge.
He’d looked between Vivienne and David. Seen the way they carefully avoided looking at each other. Seen the way David’s hand had lingered on the table near hers.
And he’d known.
After dinner, Gabriel had found Celeste alone in the kitchen, washing dishes even though they had staff for that.
“You okay?” he’d asked.
She’d jumped, hadn’t heard him come in. “Oh. Yes. Fine. Just cleaning up.”
“The turkey wasn’t overcooked.”
“David has high standards. It’s fine.”
“Celeste—”
“Please don’t.” She’d turned to face him, hands wet, eyes bright with unshed tears. “Please don’t be nice to me right now. I can’t—I’ll fall apart.”
Gabriel had wanted to tell her then. Wanted to say: leave him. Get out. You deserve so much better.
But he’d been a coward.
“Okay,” he’d said instead. “But if you ever need anything—”
“I won’t. But thank you.” She’d smiled. That careful, practiced smile. “You should go enjoy dessert. I made three kinds of pie.”
Gabriel had left. Had driven home hating himself.
And he’d never gone back to another family dinner.
“I remember,” Jane said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I cried myself to sleep that night. David came to bed and didn’t even notice.”
“I should have said something. Should have done something.”
“Like what? Tell me my marriage was a lie? I wouldn’t have believed you.” Jane looked at him directly. “I wasn’t ready to see it yet.”
“When did you become ready?”
“When I had no choice. When I heard them together and couldn’t pretend anymore.” She touched her belly. “When I had someone else to protect besides myself.”
Gabriel moved closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of him. “I need you to understand something. I didn’t avoid family events because I didn’t care. I avoided them because I cared too much.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means—” He stopped. Started again. “It means watching you lose yourself year after year was killing me. Watching you get smaller and quieter and more afraid. Watching David tear you apart piece by piece.” His voice roughened. “And knowing I couldn’t do anything to stop it without making everything worse.”
Jane’s breath caught. “Gabriel—”
“I would sit at those dinners and watch him belittle you. Watch him flirt with other women right in front of you. Watch him treat you like you were his possession instead of his partner.” His hands clenched. “And I wanted to hit him. Wanted to grab you and tell you to run. But I was too much of a coward.”
“You weren’t a coward. You were—”
“I was a coward,” he repeated firmly. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to help you. I’m sorry I let you suffer alone. I’m sorry—” His voice cracked. “I’m sorry you had to fake your own death to get away from him.”
The words hung between them in the quiet bookstore.
Jane felt tears sliding down her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away.
“Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered.
“Because you need to know that someone saw. That someone knew how wrong it all was.” Gabriel’s eyes were intense, sincere. “You weren’t crazy. You weren’t too sensitive or too emotional or too anything. David was abusive. And I witnessed it. And I did nothing.”
“It’s not your fault—”
“Let me carry some of the blame,” he cut her off gently. “Let me take responsibility for my part in your suffering. Because maybe—maybe if I’d been braver, if I’d tried harder, things would have been different.”
Jane shook her head. “I made my own choices. I stayed when I should have left. I believed him when I should have questioned. That’s on me.”
“No. That’s on him. He manipulated you. Isolated you. Made you doubt yourself until you couldn’t see what was right in front of you.” Gabriel’s voice was fierce. “That’s what abusers do. And you’re not responsible for his abuse.”
The word—abuse—hit Jane like a physical blow.
Because that’s what it was. Not just an affair. Not just a bad marriage.
Abuse.
Emotional. Psychological. And eventually, attempted murder.
She’d been abused.
The realization made her knees weak. She reached out to steady herself on a bookshelf.
Gabriel was there immediately. “Hey. Easy. You okay?”
“I—” She couldn’t breathe. “I need to sit.”
He guided her to the chair behind the register, crouched in front of her. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe.”
“He abused me.” The words came out broken. “For years. And I didn’t even see it.”
“That’s how it works. That’s how they operate.” Gabriel’s hands were gentle on her knees, grounding. “But you’re out now. You’re safe.”
“Am I? He tried to kill me, Gabriel. What if he finds out I’m alive? What if he comes after me again?” The panic was building, sharp and suffocating. “What if he finds the baby—”
“He won’t. I won’t let him.” Gabriel’s voice was absolute certainty. “I swear to God, Celeste—Jane—I won’t let him hurt you again.”
Jane looked at him. Really looked at him. At this man who’d been a stranger, a distant brother-in-law, someone she barely knew. Who’d shown up in her new life like fate or chance or divine intervention.
Who looked at her now like she was worth protecting.
“Why do you care?” she whispered. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.” Gabriel’s thumb traced a gentle circle on her knee. Unconscious. Comforting. “I know you’re brave enough to run when you needed to. Strong enough to build a new life from nothing. Fierce enough to protect your baby even when you’re terrified.” His eyes held hers. “I know you’re worth caring about.”
Jane’s throat closed. She couldn’t speak.
“And maybe—” Gabriel’s voice dropped lower. “Maybe I wish I’d known you better before. Maybe I wish I’d tried to reach you instead of running away. Maybe I wish—” He stopped. “Doesn’t matter now. What matters is you’re here. And I’m here. And this time, I’m not running.”
“Gabriel—”
The bell over the door chimed.
They both jumped. Gabriel stood quickly, putting professional distance between them.
Marcus walked in, stopping short when he saw them. “Oh. Gabriel. Didn’t expect to see you here again so soon.”
“Just picking up another book.” Gabriel was smooth, easy. “Your employee has excellent recommendations.”
“Does she now?” Marcus looked between them, clearly reading the tension. “Well, don’t let me interrupt. Jane, you good?”
“Fine.” Jane stood, wiping her face quickly. “Just having a moment. Baby hormones.”
“Ah.” Marcus nodded knowingly. “Say no more. Gabriel, I’m guessing you want another Scottish laird?”
Gabriel’s mouth twitched. “Actually, maybe something different this time. What do you recommend?”
While Marcus launched into book recommendations, Jane slipped away to the back room. She needed a minute. Needed to breathe. Needed to process everything Gabriel had just told her.
He’d seen her. All those years. He’d witnessed her pain and it had hurt him.
And now he was here. Promising to protect her. Looking at her like she mattered.
It was too much. Too confusing. Too dangerous to hope for.
But God help her, she was hoping anyway.
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