Sweetest Sorrow (Forbidden #2) - J.M. Darhower Page 0,170

needed. She'd heard of it happening to others, fired for stealing medication or neglecting patients, but she might've been the first to be fired for loving a patient they all hated.

At least Grey's Anatomy got something right, she thought as she strolled out of the hospital, her head down, arms wrapped around her chest to ward off the cold that even the sunshine couldn't suppress. The future keeps changing, and when you finally catch up to it, it's never how you expected it to be.

"How'd it go?"

The quiet voice made Gabriella stop short, her high heels planting in a pile of slush on the sidewalk. Looking to the metal bench along the building, her eyes met Dante's inquisitive gaze. She took in his unruly appearance, his messy bed-head and wrinkled clothes, fixating on his untied shoes. "Well… it seems I'll have a lot more time on my hands in the future."

"Sorry to hear that," he said, standing up. "They'll never find another like you. You're one of a kind, Nurse Russo."

"Thank you," she whispered as he paused in front of her. "I always had the best of intentions."

"I know you did."

"Too bad that's not what pays the bills," she said. "I'll have to find a different job. I don't foresee another hospital hiring me after this."

"Someone will," he said. "They'll take one look at you and instantly know your worth."

"You think so?"

"I do," he said. "If I could find someone to believe in me, you've got it made. And besides, you know, you've got me. I can cover the rent and whatever else you need."

"Ah, do you have a job now?"

"No, but I can find something," he said. "I hear there's a diner across the country with a recent job opening."

"Sounds like a long commute."

He shrugged. "We do what we have to do."

Gabriella looked him over, smiling sadly when he wrapped his arms around her. Closing her eyes, she breathed him in. "You smell like a bar again."

"You smell like Heaven."

Gabriella tolerated it for a moment before her nose started to twitch. "Seriously, you stink."

"I was supposed to take a shower, but then I realized what day it was and what was happening. I wanted to be here for you. It was more important than showering."

"My nose disagrees," she said as he pressed a kiss to her temple, "but the rest of me is grateful."

Dante pulled away from her, taking a step back. "I also have something to give you. I've had it for a few days, but well, shit happened, and everything went crazy, and I kind of haven't found the right moment to give it to you yet. But when it's the right person, when you've found the right one, I don't think any moment is wrong."

Dante reached into his pocket for something, and a swell of intense dread washed through Gabriella, strong enough to make her knees weak and hands shake. Oh God. No. No. No. She grabbed his arm, pinning his hand in his pocket, drowning in irrational panic. "Don't do it."

Dante's eyes widened. "What?"

"Look, I love you," she said, shaking her head. Ugh, how to explain this? "I love you with everything inside of me, Dante. I do. When I look at you, I feel it, and I know there's nobody else in the world for me. But I just… I've never been that kind of girl, and ugh, I seriously hate weddings, and I would say yes, if you asked, but I need time to prepare, so I don't think proposing—"

A sharp bark of laughter cut off her flustered rambling. "Whoa, whoa, whoa… you think I'm proposing?"

"You're not?"

"Hell no." He made a face, which he quickly straightened back out, looking apologetic. "No offense. I love the fuck out of you, Gabriella, but marriage? Right now?"

She exhaled sharply. "Oh, thank God."

She let go of his arm, motioning for him to proceed with whatever he was doing.

"Anyway," he continued, "the other day, you know, I went to Michaels."

"I remember," she said. "Still have no idea who Michael is, though."

"Michaels, Gabriella. The shop."

"What?"

"That place with all the crafts."

Her brow furrowed. "Why would you go there?"

"I saw this flyer in the newspaper, this thing they were having, you know… this class… so I figured fuck it, why not?" Pulling his hand from his pocket, he opened his fist. "So I went."

Diagonally across his palm, blue, white, and purple string weaved together in a v-shaped pattern, the ends hanging loose. Her jaw dropped open as she stared at it.

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