“And you’ve been the same for me,” she told him as she wandered closer to the piano, dragging her fingertips across the dark wood before she sat down next to him. Her smaller hand reached for his. Delicate fingers wrapped gently but surely around his own. That was her in every way- gentle, soft but steady. More sure of herself than she had been in a long time. Loving him had opened her back up. She’d found herself in her care for him, her loyalty to him, her unyielding devotion even in the face of his trauma. She truly was alive again because of him.
“I’d lost myself years before I found you. Everything in my life was fake. It was all just a performance. Even me, I was… I was never really there. Just playing the part that I was expected to play. But you…made me me again. You woke me up. Brought me back to life,” she hoped that the words didn’t strike a nerve. They were honest. She’d spent years lying to everyone to make them happy, and for once, this was undeniably true. “Whatever you may think of yourself, I am better because of you. You saved me.” She squeezed his hand and leaned closer to press a kiss to his cheek. “I just wanted you to know that.” // @callthegoderos // continued
You saved me.
The words latched on his mind as she continued. Could he really have been this significant in her life? He knew, albeit he refused to admit it at times, that she had pulled him away from the self-destruction he had persistently put on himself. The drugs, the alcohol, and the endless cycle of self-loathing designed simply to edge him closer to death. He had wanted to die, didn’t he? But not since her, he realized. Not since a chance meeting with her, and he felt--well, better.
“I ...” He paused, he wasn’t sure how to say things anymore. But the truth, perhaps, honest and rough with edges will do. “I’ve been her husband for as long as I can remember. She’s everything to me. But she’s dead.” Gabriel turned to her, his turn to touch her hand. “I’m not her husband anymore. I’m not hers anymore.” He said it, as surprised as anyone could be by how true he felt that was. He cleared his throat, squeezing her hand lightly. “You can’t--if you could--” He was struggling to get his words out. But how did one exactly say what he wanted to? You can’t leave, now that I found you, you can’t leave me.










