𝙄𝙏 𝙄𝙎𝙉’𝙏 𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙄𝙇 𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙍 catches her hands and urges her to meet his gaze that gabrielle realizes she’s spiraling. her breaths are too quick, too shallow, shaky little gasps trembling past her tear stained lips as she tries and fails to draw in enough air. she squeezes her eyes shut, seeking for something to ground her to keep herself from falling into a full panic attack. something she hasn’t had since leaving italy almost fifteen years ago. it was fitting, really. her father was at the heart of that one too. it’s her fiance’s voice that gets her to calm down, the voice she loves hearing in the early mornings when she wakes up and the one that tells her goodnight before she falls asleep. a voice she thought she would grow old hearing. she focuses solely on it, and when it no longer sounds like she’s underwater, she takes a full, deep breath. and then another. until she’s calmed down enough to finally understand what he’s asking her. was she in trouble? yes, but to what degree she didn’t know. her father was a bitter man and she knows that her fleeing the country was seen as an act of betrayal in his eyes. he had just lost his wife and then his daughter disappeared? she could only imagine what he would do to the love of her life to punish her. ❝ it’s my father…❞ she replies shakily, no idea on where to even begin.
gabrielle nods towards their bed, the one with her suitcases currently spewed open in an unorganized mess, mirroring the anxiety she’s currently feeling inside, and she sits where there’s still room for both of them. she keeps one of christopher’s hands in hers, turning it over so she can trace the center of his palm with trembling fingertips. her eyes follow the movement because she can’t bear to meet his gaze yet. not for this. fearing what she would see in them once the truth was out. ❝ when i told you my parents died… i didn’t tell you the whole truth,❞ her breath wavers and she traces another slow line across his palm, grounding herself. ❝ my mom was murdered when i was eighteen. by the cali cartel.❞ the words spill out quietly, like she’s afraid speaking them aloud might summon the ghosts she’s spent years outrunning. ❝ it was retribution for my father. for the business he was running and the deals he made with them… the ones he broke. i… i think she knew it was coming because the night before she died, she made me promise that i would leave italy before my next birthday and i did. ❞ her throat tightens painfully, new tears forming as the memory floods her. of the last moment she had with her mother before her life fell apart. ❝ i knew i had to get as far away from my father because if i didn’t i’d end up just like my mom. so i came here.❞ she sniffs, forcing herself to continue even though she has the urge to get up and finish packing. to put as much distance between her and chris before her father's men arrived. ❝ i changed my name, kept a low profile and he's never been able to find me for over fifteen years... until this morning.❞ her breath catches on the last word and finally, because she can't avoid it any longer, she slowly lifts her gaze to meet his. bracing for the shift in his eyes she’s dreaded since the moment she opened her mouth.
