Admitting the truth about his week had helped Gabriel lose any composure he may have had, but seeing Rachel falter, hearing her voice crack just the slightest completely obliterated the calm he'd managed to keep. The book slipped to the ground as Gabriel stood and he hated how nervous he felt because how was he supposed to fix this when he was wringing his hands like a child who had broken his mother's vase? Gabriel feared that it was because his relationship with Rachel at his very moment was more delicate than a vase, and as he approached her (because his feet seemed to be the only part of him that knew what to do) he felt more and more panicked.
"Rachel," Gabriel's hands went out, not sure if he could touch her, "I--I should have stood my ground with my mother, I should...I should have picked voicing our decision over protecting her feelings, I---" Even with his devotion to Michael, Gabriel had still felt so guilty about upsetting his mother, his father, his sister. He knew he had made the right choice to be with Mary and Michael, but it had never felt one hundred percent right. He had been such a coward, and he wasn't feeling like that now.
Gabriel dropped his hands, "We're first, from now on, Rachel, if you want still want us to be---you, Michael, Amissa--I promise to put all of you first." It was all he could think to say, to make this promise to her in hopes that she could have faith in their marriage like he did.
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