Falling For My Ex's Dad (Clarissa and Gabriel) novel Chapter 223

CLAIRESSA’S POV

Gabriel was right.

God, I hated that he was right.

I couldn’t keep pretending nothing had happened between us—not after last night, not after what almost happened on the porch if Adrian hadn’t walked in. This fire between us wasn’t something I could just brush under the rug and keep walking.

It shook me—to my core.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t outrun it.

I hadn’t been able to focus on anything since it happened. And maybe, yeah—I wanted him to sweat. To feel even a fraction of what I felt when he left me... when he handed me off like I was something to be passed down.

But now, as my eyes searched his—caught the anguish etched across his face and heard the raw, unfiltered pain in his voice when he said we needed to talk—something inside me melted.

He was watching me—those eyes dark, waiting, tense, like he was bracing for another blow. Ready to fight if I pushed him away again.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I let my walls fall.

“Gabriel…” I swallowed hard. “You’re right.”

His expression shifted—slowly—like he hadn’t heard me right at first. His brows drew together, then lifted, stunned.

“I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen,” I said softly. “Because it did. And it… it shook me to my core.”

I swallowed again, eyes locked on his. “I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’m sorry for acting like it didn’t matter. For brushing you off when you tried to talk to me this morning. That wasn’t fair.”

He stepped closer. I didn’t stop him.

“It’s a lot,” I whispered. “We went from silence to you saying you want me back—emotions, passion, almost losing control. It’s too much, too fast. I don’t even know what I feel right now.”

I drew a breath, voice quiet. “I just… I need time to process it.”

“Then let’s process it together.”

He reached across the small space between us, his fingers curling around mine in a warm grip.

“We’ll face it side by side. No more running. No more pretending. It’s you and me, Clairessa—through all of it.”

God, why did that sound so right?

I wanted to believe him. Desperately.

“I want to,” I whispered. “But I can’t. I can’t just forget everything.”

Gently, I slipped my hand from his.

This time, he looked hurt—but not angry.

“Why not?” he asked quietly. “What’s stopping you? Stopping us?”

“Because I’m scared, okay?” The words burst from me, small and shaky.

“I’m scared that if I trust you again… if I open my heart and give it to you the way I did before… then when things get messy, you’ll shut me out. Or disappear into yourself like you always do when it gets hard.

I don’t trust that you’ll be able to see this through to the end.”

His gaze intensified, something fierce flashing behind his eyes—like my words had stirred something primal in him.

“I know my actions in the past gave you every reason not to trust me,” he said gently. “But not this time, baby. Not this time.”

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