Gabriel’s body is tense. He looks like he’s about to leave but stands there as I speak, his back half to me as he holds on to the back of the barstool he just rose from.
“When he proposed, he promised to share my dreams, but I never did the same for him. He took a job he was brilliant at yet secretly hated, all so he could provide an amazing life for me and his son. I took it for granted. I thought I wanted more, yet I had everything I wanted. I forgot to give him what he needed.”
“And what did he need?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Support,” I say.
Gabriel runs his hand down his face and holds his mouth for a second, as if trying to think of the right thing to say. He turns back toward me, placing both hands on the barstool. “Kat, it’s not all your fault. I know I’m not supposed to say this. My lawyer would kill me if he heard me say this, but I was a shitty husband. I wasn’t listening when you said you were unhappy and I certainly wasn’t as affectionate as I used to be. I just… I got so damn tired.”
He took his wallet off the bar and put it in his back pocket. “I am so damn tired, Kat. This is not what I pictured our life to be. I swear to you I planned it out differently. The truth is we both screwed this up. I drove you into his arms.”
I have to pull my mouth up from the floor. I wasn’t prepared for him to take the blame. I don’t know how I feel about that.
“And listen.” He continues. “As much as I still hate you for doing it, with Malory torturing you and Becca… Oh, that’s another story. Let’s just say you were right about that girl. She definitely thought I was sending her signals that weren’t there. Maybe I was. I can’t say I entirely blame you.”
“Gabriel, please. I hate myself so much right now I can’t bear the thought of you thinking this has anything to do with you being at fault.” I lower my head.
Running his hand through his hair, he says, “Listen, it’s late. I’m going to head up. Do you mind if I take Jack for the day? I miss him so much.”
I look up to see pain in his eyes. I shake my head in disagreement. He shifts back, but I clarify. “Why don’t you go home and spend the night in your bed? You’ll be there when Jackson wakes up. I’ll stay here.” I open my bag and take out my set of keys. I place them in his palm and close his fingers. “You should go and be with your son.”
Gabriel’s eyes relax, and I see a calming and almost appreciative tone in them. A hint of that Robert Redford grin I fell in love with makes an appearance. “Thank you,” he murmurs, handing me his room key.
He tells me his room number and to help myself to anything from room service. I have no choice but to watch as he turns on his heel and heads out through the lobby.
All dressed up and nowhere to go, Cinderella retires to her tower for the night.
I make my way up to Gabriel’s room and unlock the door. The room is spacious and elegantly decorated, yet it’s nowhere for a man to call home, even if it is only temporary. There is a large canopy bed in the middle made of rich mahogany with luscious cream-and-red paisley bedding. I stroll over to the mini bar and take out a bottle of water from the inventory.
The TV sits on a dresser in the corner, yet I have no desire to turn it on. I just let my beautiful husband walk out the door and I didn’t even put up a proper fight. In fact, I let him feel like shit about himself. Why didn’t I say something more? I should have told him about the night Jackson was born. How scared I was, yet he was right by my side, comforting me, encouraging me the entire time. And how, when we brought him home, I was so scared of being a new mom and he assured me we would learn to do this together. I never doubted how I’d be as a mom because Gabriel was by my side.
I should have told him about that time we backpacked through Europe and missed our train. We didn’t know whether we had to sleep in a hostel or in a car or in a park. I didn’t care because he was always ready with a plan and never faltered to protect us.
Or the night before our wedding when the DJ called with the flu and cancelled on us. He said it didn’t matter if there was silence because we had our entire lives to dance. All he wanted to do was marry me. I have a thousand stories I should have told him, but I didn’t.
My pity party is disrupted by a knock at the door. I place the bottle of water on the dresser and make my way toward the door. My heart melts seeing him standing in my doorway.
Gabriel’s right arm is stretched up against the doorframe. I can feel his weight swaying toward me as I open the door. He stands there, looking down at me with sheer determination.
“Did you forget something?” I ask.
“I met this girl once. She had this long brown hair and gorgeous green eyes, and she had the most incredible smile I’ve ever seen. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.” He takes a step toward me. So close we’re almost touching. “Tonight, I saw her again, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take her home just like I did then.”
No sooner is he finished with his sentence than his body crashes into mine. Two warm hands grab me by each side of my face as his mouth lands on mine. My lips immediately part and welcome him in. His tongue is hot and burning with desire. We are all mouths and tongues and hands and body heat. His strong, lean body presses up against me.
I let out a moan as his mouth moves from my lips and finds the nape of my neck. His wet tongue French kisses my skin. My body quivers. He raises his head briefly, and I get a good look at his face. Navy blue turns midnight in carnal lust.
Gabriel spins me around, forcing my hands to brace myself against the mahogany post of the four-poster bed. He moves my hair off my back until it’s cascading off my shoulder and down my front. Long, strong fingers move the spaghetti straps of my dress so they slip down my arm. His lips find my skin once more and kiss and lavish every nerve ending, sending shivers down my body. My body instinctually falls back into Gabriel.
His fingers glide the zipper of my dress down and gravity pulls it slowly to the floor. I’m left in nothing but white panties and a matching strapless bra.
Gabriel steps back, forcing me to turn around. “I want to hate you,” he murmurs under his breath.
I bite my lip at the sight of tears. Slowly, I approach him, gazing into his eyes. They are downshifted and away. I catch their attention with my own and bring him back to the moment. Holding up my right hand, I gently place it on his cheek. His eyes furrow as if he’s trying to fight it. Instead, he lays his head into my palm and closes his eyes, relishing my touch.
I lean up and place my other hand on his other cheek and place a soft kiss on his forehead and whisper, “I love you.”
I do the same, kissing his eyes. “I love you.”
His nose. “I love you.”
His cheek. “I love you.”
His temple. “I love you.”
His lips. “I love you.”
I lean back, and he opens his eyes. His heart caving in, Gabriel leans forward and wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me into him, kissing me passionately, his animalistic need replaced with love and desire.
No words are said. Everything that needs to be told is done so through touches, glances, tickles, and kisses. We have a conversation without words. Mine are words of love and his are of acceptance. We make love three times before the sun comes up. He makes my ears burn red hot more times in one evening than I can count.
The rosy hues of the sun are coming up over the horizon when I finally curl on my side with my back against Gabriel’s chest. He drapes his arm around mine, playing with my hair before my eyes shut blissfully.
The sun is risen and cheerful. The heat pools through the window, yet I’m cold. I’m missing my very warm blanket. My Gabriel.