Page 88 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
"Give me your hands," he says.
"No."
"Rosalina—"
"I said no!" I jerk away from him, standing abruptly, and the sudden movement makes my head spin. "I do not need you to fix me. I do not need you to?—"
"To what?" Gabriel stands too, stepping into my space, his gray eyes fixed on mine. "To care? To help? To stop you from literally beating yourself bloody?"
"Yes!" The word tears out of me, louder than I intended, echoing in the empty gym. "Yes, stop caring! Stop trying to help! Just—just leave me alone!"
"Not happening." His voice is flat, unyielding. "Try again."
"Why?" I shove at his chest with my bleeding hands, leaving red marks on his white t-shirt. "Why do you care? Why does any of this matter to you?"
"Because you matter to me," he says simply, catching my wrists before I can shove him again. "Because I am not going to stand here and watch you hurt yourself."
"I am not hurting myself, I am—" My voice cracks. "I am just—I needed to?—"
The words die in my throat because I do not actually know how to finish that sentence. I needed to what? To hit something? To punish myself? To feel something other than this crushing weight of guilt and fear?
"You needed to what, Bella?" Gabriel's grip on my wrists is gentle despite the firmness, his thumbs pressing against my pulse points. "Talk to me."
"I can’t." The words come out broken, barely above a whisper.
"Why not?"
"Because if I start talking I will not stop and if I do not stop then everything will fall apart and I cannot—" My breathing is coming faster now, shallow and panicked. "I can’t let it fall apart because if it does then Erin dies and it will be my fault and I cannot—I cannot?—"
"Breathe," Gabriel commands, and something in his voice cuts through the panic spiraling in my chest. "Rosalina, breathe with me. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
"I can’t?—"
"Yes, you can. With me. In." He demonstrates, taking a slow, deliberate breath through his nose.
I try to follow, but it comes out ragged and broken.
"Again," he says patiently. "In through your nose."
This time I manage it, though barely.
"Good. Now out through your mouth."
We breathe together for what feels like an eternity, his hands still holding my wrists, his eyes never leaving mine, until finally the panic recedes enough for me to think semi-clearly again.
"Better?" he asks.
"No." I pull my wrists from his grip, taking a step back, wrapping my arms around myself like I can physically hold myself together. "Nothing is better. Nothing is going to be better. Everything is completely fucked and I do not know how to fix it."
"Then let us help you fix it," Gabriel says, and the earnestness in his voice makes something in my chest crack.
"You can’t help." I shake my head, tears burning in my eyes again. "No one can help. This is my problem and I have to?—"
"Stop." He closes the distance between us in two strides, his hands cupping my face, forcing me to look at him. "Stop trying to carry everything alone. Stop pushing us away. Stop pretending you don’t need us."
"I don’t need you," I lie, and even as the words leave my mouth I know they are cruel, know they are designed to push him away, to create distance before I do something stupid like tell him the truth.
His jaw tightens, but his hands do not leave my face. "You don’t mean that."
