All this Time

Nathan

11th February

I'm not a violent person. Not often. It's not something I resort to if I'm pissed off, not if whatever's bothering me can be solved with a conversation. But fuck, I didn't want to have a conversation with Josh. I wanted to cave his head in.

The entire drive home, I held Gabrielle's hand, kissing the back of it, using her light to cast out some of that dark. The dark I was feeling over Josh disregarding his daughter as though she were nothing. 

As though he hadn't been watching the first five years of her life. Watching her grow into this kid who has the confidence to do whatever challenges her and not give up until she succeeds.

She's been in my home and life for less than three months and if Gabrielle disappeared with her tomorrow, I'd be devastated. I would miss that kid. I would miss them both more than I can comprehend. 

We pull into the drive at home. Camilla told Gabrielle that Lydia had fallen asleep and offered to drop her off at school in the morning. The car is dark, the streetlamps cast a glow on a light snow fall outside, white powder turning to water as soon as it hits the windshield. Gabrielle unbuckles her seat belt but she doesn't move. She stares at her lap and her breathing gets louder.

Soon her chin starts to quiver and her shoulders shake and I can't fucking stand it.

Clutching the steering wheel, I drag my feet back toward the seat, the floor mat squeaking under my boot.

"How can I protect her from this, Nathan?" Gabrielle wipes her face with her sleeve, shaking her head. "I can't. I can't stop this from happening. I can't make him want to be in her life. She doesn't deserve this."

I'm about to agree with her when she lets out a loud, broken sob and pushes the car door open, stepping out into the cold night. I expect her to go up to the house, but she doesn't. I'm out of the car in time to see her storming down the driveway, her arms wrapped around herself, clouds of cold breath billowing above her.

"Gabrielle," I run after her, careful not to slip on the wet concrete.

"I just need to walk," she sniffs.

I get that, the feeling of being restless and helpless, wanting nothing more than to find the solutions to impossible problems. I'm not going to coax her out of it, so instead, I fall into step beside her,  because I'm not going to let her go alone.

Wisps of dark cloud cover patches of the cobalt canvas above us, a few stars peeping through the gaps. The snowfall is easing now, making the late night trek a bit more bearable.

Not that it could be bad when I'm with Gabrielle. I'd walk from one side of Colorado to the other if I could do it with her.

She sniffs again, it almost echos in the quiet streets. Lights shine from the cracks in peoples curtains, porch lights illuminating front doors and the glare of television screens flicker in top floor windows. Walking at night brings a certain peace when someone is safe enough to do so. I wouldn't want Gabrielle out on her own, my own fucking breed to thank for that.

We walk in silence for a good fifteen minutes before she slips her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. It inflates me, it puts my lungs into overdrive. Something as simple as her feeling comfortable enough to initiate this closeness doesn't hold a candle to whatever wonders this world has to offer.

"Thank you for being there for me this afternoon," she whispers.

I kiss her head. "You don't need to thank me."

She stops, pulling me to a stop as well and I face her, standing close. Her nose is red and her lower lash line is glistening. She's beautiful when she cries, as bad as it fucking hurts, she is beautiful. I think I could say that about her no matter what mood she were in.