gabriel.

"Yeah, actually. I would love to see the house." Gabe took an enthusiastic step forward, "You know, I don't think I've ever toured a property you've worked on." Bright eyes settled over the home before him. Caleb had taken special consideration with each detail, he was sure. "Maybe I've never seen very much of what you've worked on, ever." Gabriel laughed, crossing the driveway following Caleb inside.

"Building out a house is crazy, man." He'd meant it heartedly- both light, and whole. "This is going to be your home. All of this, by your own hand." Gabe moved through the room, careful not to help himself beyond Caleb's gaze. He didn't want to push him too far, too fast. "I imagine Grace is ready to go now, too. Finally, eh?"

His gaze jumped across the room to Caleb- because, well, he was never really sure which jests were likely to land.

Caleb had been in his workshop (read: garage) when he'd heard a car pull into his driveway, summoning his attention away from the bench he'd been sanding down. Dusting his hands off onto his jeans, Caleb wandered out of the garage door, surprise on his face when he realized who the visitor was. "Oh," He sounded, nodding in greeting. "Hey, man." He wondered then if Gabriel had ever set foot in the neighborhood before this moment, which he knew was vaguely mean, but he sort of enjoyed it. "I was just, uh..." He gesticulated towards the garage. "Well, whatever." The project would keep, at least. "Shouldn't you be in court, or something?" Caleb smiled then, trying to be more polite, like Grace had coached him to be.

It wasn't an accusation, just an observation. A gentle push in the direction of something better, if he wanted it. If he cared to. Either way, Hannah would be texting Grace the second Gabe was out of sight. This was what the two of them had conspired over— progress.

Gabriel and Caleb had been at odds for as long as she'd known them. She'd stopped expecting them to mend things (at least on their own) years ago. And yet, the idea of one standing beside the other on a wedding day— as a brother should— felt like something worth remarking on.

She lifted her coffee to her lips but didn't drink, her fingers toying with the handle as she mulled over his question.

"I'll be fine," she finally said, voice even, easy. "Just one of those weeks."

And it was. Wasn't it? A string of nights spent staring at the ceiling, shifting restlessly, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing beside her and feeling lonelier than she had in years. But that wasn't something she planned to unpack over a rushed breakfast. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll get through it. Fresh flowers, too much caffeine, maybe a long drive to clear my head."

That was her fix. The things she turned to when sleep evaded her, when restlessness settled beneath her skin. It was enough. Wasn't it? Whether Gabriel noticed the exhaustion behind her eyes, whether he picked up on what she wasn't saying— that was up to him.

There was no recoil from her initial statement. Gabriel agreed with his wife. An astute observation given the number of times he'd reached out to his older brother over the years. For whatever reason, he'd always been desperate to bridge the gap between them. It was an open sore that refused to heal, and for many years, Hannah had helped him nurse it. However, there was an enormous piece of him that refused to have hope that this could really... be it. That after all of these years, Caleb would forgive Gabe for their fathers indiscretions.

"Maybe." he'd echoed, albeit with a bit more enthusiasm. Pouring the last bits of coffee into a silver container, Gabriel tightened the lid and immediately went to work on the hot, black coffee. With any luck, it would offer the jolt he needed to get over the last of his early morning workout exhaustion.

"I was thinking-" with a soft swivel on his heel, he turned to Hannah, and small, slow steps began to carry him in her direction. "-maybe you should... I don't know. See somebody." He stopped, lips pursing slightly as he considered his next words. "You can't sustain this kind of lifestyle, Han. A person can only survive for so long on a few small naps, and coffee."

The mans bright eyes softened, his focus moving over the woman who sat before him. She was the perfect wife in the version of their life that he'd imagined for himself. In most ways, that perfection held true. But day after day, he had to grapple with the way that burning desire behind her gaze had gone cold. His culpability in that gutted him. Gabriel struggled even now, to extend the concern that she deserved- above and beyond anyone else that he'd come to know.

"I'm not saying you have to. I want you to take care of yourself."

"No, it's a shit awful idea. But it is what it is." Caleb shrugged his shoulders lamely. "And I guess a part of me is actually amused by it. I told Grace to go crazy. Every wildest dream and fantasy. Rack up a real tab. She won't, but, it'd be pretty fun to watch." Caleb had never been close to their father, the feeling of indifference had been largely mutual after he'd become a teen. But Dr. Richard Ashmore enjoyed exerting influence over both of his children when it suited him. His wedding to Grace was one such occasion where he could have some control over the situation, so as to avoid any embarrassment from his oldest son.

There were few times Dr. Dick had shown any care of compassion towards Caleb in his life. When he'd been injured by an IED was the one that most easily came to mind. He'd never expected his father to fly to Germany when he'd been holed up in Ramstein. It was the first time he'd seen real humanity in his father's eyes. And it was the last. "At least he didn't ask to officiate it. I actually thought that would be his first request."

It is what it is, like his brother always said.

"Alright, I had to do my due diligence in making sure you knew just how shit-awful the idea is." His tongue smoothed over the front over his teeth real quick, just before he took another long swig of the cold beer in his hand. "You know... Maybe you deserve to go a little crazy too. If 'Dick is dumb enough to open up his purse strings to you after all of these years. Maybe it's time to ring him out." He'd offered a half shrug. An understanding. So, maybe Caleb would have to play nice for a few months until the ceremony is over. If he's lucky, he gets the honeymoon bankrolled, too.

"I fear he's not qualified to officiate unless you're having the procession in hell."

She could already picture how this would go— a quick exchange, a handful of pleasantries, and then nothing. Nearly every conversation they had lately seemed to trail off into unfinished thoughts, like a song that faded out instead of reaching a proper ending.

Hannah missed her husband. Not the man standing before her now, buttoned up and distracted, but the one who had once slipped notes into her textbooks. The one who had pulled her into stolen kisses between library shelves. The one who sent flowers every week they were apart— just to show he was thinking of her.

But more than ten years now separated the two men.

She yearned for connection, so she leaned into the brush of his fingers as he passed, seeking out the warmth, the familiarity of touch. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"I miss sleeping through the night," she admitted softly, honesty slipping through the cracks before she could smooth it over. The weight of recent days colored the words, making them heavier than she intended. She hesitated, then glanced up at him. "What about you? Sleep alright?"

Empty.

All of those years trying to become the master of his own education, and he'd never really figured out how to talk out his personal problems. Their life had moved past the question of: is this weird?, and comfortably into: who caves first?. It unnerved him, and so, he did his best to keep it from the forefront of his mind.

Gabriel proceeded to the counter nearest the sink, reaching into a cupboard to pull out one of many to-go containers for a lot of coffee. "Not sleeping, again?" His glance shifted briefly into her direction, hazy green eyes inspecting her face for obvious signs of exhaustion. "Anything to worry about?" Translation: anything he needed to concern himself with? Of course he cared if she wasn't feeling well, but Hannah was a grown woman. She always seemed to take care of herself; in the brief moment he considered it, he couldn't remember the last time she'd sought him out for comfort.

He cleared his throat.

" I slept fine." And he did. Like he always did. Just… fine. "I saw my brother yesterday." Almost twenty-four hours since the two of them had last exchanged words. Not entirely out of the ordinary for the two of them. "He wants me to-" He'd stopped abruptly, a small burst of laughter parting his lips as . "He wants me to be his best man."

❝When truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie.❞

gabriel ashmore

Age: 35 Gender & Pronouns: he/his/him Occupation: Assistant D.A. for the City of Ann Arbor (State of Michigan) Neighborhood: Burns Park

biography

Gabriel came into this world like a treasure.

To his mother, Salma, he was a gift—something she never knew she wanted. He was a bundle of soft skin and constant cries that she'd suddenly give her life for. His full head of dark hair and vibrant blue eyes played the lead to a meticulous blend of her own features and his father's, too. He was her first child, but Richard's second—a second son, just two short years after the birth of his first.

With another woman.

Caleb wasn't a deeply social creature - he never had been. Grace was the one who kept a social calendar, who flourished with company. He had suffered enough injuries in life that all Caleb craved was quiet. To be left alone. But like any human being, Caleb had obligations to more than just himself. And, maybe, he had dreams, too. And sometimes dreams cost money - more money than Caleb had, certainly. And when those dreams cost money... There would always be Dr. Dick. No, not a porn persona. His father - Dr. Richard Ashmore. But to Caleb (and Gabe), there was a far more charming moniker for the man.

And that money would always have strings attached.

With two beers in hand (a second round), Caleb weaved his way back through the throngs of customers back to the high top where he and his brother sat, Caleb doing his level best to be remotely personable. It wasn't Gabriel's fault, really. Actually, it wasn't his fault, at all. Which is what made the inauthenticity of the purpose behind this meet up all the more reprehensible. But Caleb felt he had to do what he had to do, and it was a worthy sacrifice to make. As he slid the IPA over to Gabe, Caleb awkwardly cleared his throat, looking across to his younger brother. "So, Dr. Dick agreed to help Grace and I with the wedding." He paused to take a healthy swig of his beer then, as if it would steel her nerves for the topic at hand. "And, uh, I was thinking, since it's going to be a real thing now... If you would, uh..." Caleb gestured towards his brother. "Be my, you know. Best man."

As a young man, he had always imagined his relationship with his big brother would be a little… different. Whether it was Caleb's intention or not, he was someone that Gabe looked up to. To a boy- someone who's mind had yet to be tainted by the complexities of humans and their conjunction- he seemed independent. Smart, strong, and completely uninterested in having a brother. This of course fueled Gabriels interest in his attention and, though he grew from that yearning with both time and distance, he still sat there next to Caleb and relished in his company.

Gabe grabbed the beer by the neck and brought it to his lips with no hesitation. His brother spoke of their father- Dr. Dick, and what a tremendous Richard he had been, and continued to be. A firm line formed across his brow as he glanced over, bright eyes combing Caleb's expression for humor. Jest. Something.

"Oh?" His brother continued, and when he'd finally asked Gabriel to be his best man, he was… confused.

"Are you serious?" He groaned lightly, putting the beer down and holding his hands up, "I mean--" he composed himself, pumping the breaks on his unintentional recoil. "Congratulations, again." A grin split his surprised expression in half, and he rose from his stool across the table to attack his brother in a spirited hug; a gesture of sincere support. "Of course I'll be your best man. But--"

And of course. Of course there was a but.

He took a small step back and leaned back against the table, grabbing his beer once more.

"Money. From Dick? Are you sure that's… a good idea?"

The coffee was cold.

Hannah hadn't realized how long she'd been sitting at the dining table until she reached for the mug and found the warmth had faded. She frowned, wrapping both hands around the ceramic as if she could coax the heat back into it. Outside, the sun had already climbed higher, spilling golden light through the kitchen window. It was a beautiful morning— the kind that should have felt peaceful, soft.

Instead, it just felt still.

She could hear Gabriel moving around upstairs, the distant sounds of dresser drawers opening and shutting, the faint rustle of fabric as he got ready for work. They were both creatures of habit. Mornings followed a routine, the same motions, the same spaced shared but rarely felt.

She wondered if he'd noticed she hadn't come back to bed after waking up too early, or if he'd just assumed she was already downstairs. A few minutes later, she heard his footsteps descending the stairs, crisp, even, predictable. She didn't look up right away, instead swirling the untouched coffee in her hands as she waited for him to break the silence first.

He was alone every day.

It didn't bother him the way that it used to. There had been so many long nights at the firm (and sometimes, the courthouse), that time and distance had loosened it's grip on his heart. Just knowing she was in the same house as him was comforting on some level- his wife was dear to him. He loved her. But the air between them was often filled with silence.

After his workout had finished, he showered and prepared for the day. Gabe chose a similar suit to the one he'd worn the day before, and his closet didn't vary too much from one color group to the next. He'd had a few pieces that popped, but they were mostly gifts, or clothes for special occasions. He'd hated having to waffle over his wardrobe in the morning. If everything was similar, he could dedicate more energy to stretching out his morning. A longer run. A nicer breakfast.

A conversation with his wife…

"Good morning." Gabriel mouthed a greeting as he rounded the corner, his steps light and sure. He walked behind her, slowing to brush his fingers lightly against her shoulder as he passed. "Sleep okay?" His tone often betrayed his interest, as his mind wandered past the conversation and onto his list of things to do today.