Chapter 17
When Julia awoke, she yawned and stretched, reaching her hand out and…nothing. Gabriel was gone and his side of the bed was cold. A feeling of unease washed over her. The feeling was old; she’d felt it before. It made her momentarily nauseated.
She swung her legs to the floor and saw a small note on the bedside table, propped up against a wine goblet, which was filled with water floating with lemon slices. The note was written with a fountain pen:
Lovely Julianne,
I’ve gone to pick up something special for breakfast.
Please use the washroom in the master bedroom; it’s better.
I’ve laid out some personal items for you there.
You can also choose whatever you need from my dresser and my closet.
Please stay.
Yours,
Gabriel.
P.S. Forgive my boldness, but you asleep in my arms this morning
was by far the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.
Wow. How does he do that? she thought, flushing scarlet. The Professor certainly had a way with words…and flowers and music and chocolate cake…She placed a hand to her forehead as she tried to collect herself. Chocolate cake was her new favorite dessert. And the memory of her fingertips in his warm mouth and the way that his tongue artfully…
Focus, Julia. You need to take a shower. Preferably, a cold one.
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She quickly drank the water he’d left for her and tapped the note against her teeth. The last time she’d slept in his bed she’d had a very rude awakening in his living room. Although he’d been tender with her last night, she worried he might snap at her this morning.
She opened the door to the guest room and stuck her head out, eager to discern any signs of life. When she was satisfied that she was alone, she walked quietly to the master bedroom and closed the door behind her. She retrieved her clothes and entered his large bathroom, making sure to lock the door.
Gabriel had left another note with a wine goblet filled with orange juice. It was garnished with an orange slice. Clearly, Gabriel has a thing for garnishes, she thought.
On the note, she read:
Julianne,
I hope you’ll find everything you need here.
If not, Rachel stocked the vanity in the guest washroom
with a number of different items. Please help yourself.
My clothes are at your disposal.
Please choose a sweater as the weather has turned cold today.
Yours,
Gabriel
Julia sipped the orange juice as she examined the items before her. Laid out on the vanity with military precision was a new toothbrush in its packaging, toothpaste, a new disposable razor (which she examined with an arched eyebrow), various feminine-looking toiletries from a company called Bliss, which were all scented with vanilla and bergamot, and a lavender-colored mesh shower sponge that was commonly referred to as a poof.
Had Gabriel asked Rachel to purchase these items for his guests? Or was Gabriel the kind of man who kept random unused shower poofs on hand for just such occasions? Perhaps he followed a color-code: lavender for virgins, red for Paulina, black for Professor Singer, green for the Emerson whores…Julia doubted the lavender one had ever been used before.
A virgin poof for a virgin…how fitting.
Julia stopped herself. Gabriel had asked for forgiveness and tried, gently, to suggest that she refrain from jumping to conclusions about him. And here she was, jumping to conclusions over a shower poof.
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Looking around, she found a white, Turkish cotton bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and a pair of ladies’ bedroom slippers by the bathtub. They were far too large for her and would have been far too large for Rachel’s feet too. This time Julia limited her negative reaction to a roll of the eyes.
It took more than a few minutes for her to figure out how to operate his very fancy shower, for it had multiple settings for body sprays, water pressures, and temperatures, and was extremely complicated. Julia was only interested in the large and central tropical rain shower, which was, of course, controlled by the last lever she pulled.
While she surrounded herself in vanilla and bergamot and tried not to think of Cream Earl Grey tea, Julia asked herself some very serious questions. She suspected that Gabriel would want to have their conversation as soon as possible. It was going to be painful. And what was she going to do afterward? Try to be friends with him? For what purpose?
She realized that if she focused on the future, she’d never be able to address the past, at least not adequately. So she was determined to focus solely on their past interactions, including his rudeness and condescension this semester. He needed to explain himself, and she needed to listen without jumping to conclusions. Then she would tell him exactly what she thought about him.
Yes, it was going to be painful for both of them. It saddened her to realize that she had never had a healthy romantic relationship, when one of the things she wanted most in life was to enjoy affection and love. And Gabriel, despite the fact that he came from a good albeit adopted family and was intelligent, handsome, and wealthy, was probably incapable of having a healthy romantic relationship at all.
Her mother’s relationships were far from healthy or normal, and Julia had seen too many of them from an early age, an endless parade of myriad dysfunctions. In contrast, her father’s relationship with Deb Lundy was normal enough, if not a little on the casual side. They cared for one another, Julia thought, but their care was cool and small, like a distant star.
Gabriel’s love would burn hot like the sun, if he was even capable of loving someone. It’s obvious he prefers sex to love, or maybe he just conflates the two. What’s worse — thinking sex is love, or thinking that the two can be separated from one another and preferring sex?
Julia allowed the warm water of the shower to pour over her, trying to take her mind away from the inexplicable draw she felt toward him. What I would not give to have even a part of the happiness that Grace and Richard
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had. They had the ideal marriage. They always spoke kindly to one another. And they were so much in love…
Julia exited the shower and was soon clad only in Gabriel’s bathrobe with a thick, white towel wrapped around her curling hair. At least, she thought it was Gabriel’s bathrobe. It didn’t smell like him. She pulled on the slippers and went hunting in the bedroom for some clothes. She found a pair of socks, a white undershirt, and a pair of Princeton boxer shorts in his dresser, all of which looked like they would fit her somewhat. Walking over to Gabriel’s large and immaculate walk-in closet, she flipped on the light switch. Row upon row of meticulously organized clothes met her on three sides.
She moved to the far wall and began going through a pile of sweaters and cardigans, almost all cashmere by Loro Piana, neatly arranged between wooden dividers on a shelf. She quickly found the British-racing-green sweater that she’d borrowed before and noticed with satisfaction that it had apparently been returned to its formerly pristine condition. She boldly held the sweater to her nose and inhaled, smiling with pleasure as she realized that it smelled of Aramis and Gabriel. He must have worn it after it had come back from the dry cleaner.
Just then, something shiny caught her eye. Leaning up against the wall and half-hidden behind the hangers of sports coats and suit jackets were Gabriel’s black-and-white framed photographs. She recognized the top photograph as the fifth one, the one that had been over the bed. It was gently erotic and almost tender.
He shouldn’t have been ashamed of this one. Julia wished her back was that beautiful. And part of her wished that Gabriel would look at her the way the man in the photograph looked at the woman. Just once.
She quickly returned to the bathroom and regarded her face in the mirror. She looked tired. She was pale, as usual, with dark circles under her eyes. Those eyes were glassy, and her veins showed at her neck. She looked ill, actually, after a couple of weeks of drama and lack of sleep, and the contrast between her pale skin and her dark hair wasn’t helping matters. Nor was the fact that Rachel had not thought to leave cosmetics behind for Gabriel’s overnight guests. Clearly, it was an oversight on her part.
After dressing, Julia ventured into the kitchen. Gabriel was nowhere to be found. She stuffed her dirty clothes into her knapsack and pulled out her phone and the padded envelope. Plopping herself on one of the bar stools she quickly checked her voice mail. Five messages from Paul were waiting, each more urgent than the last, culminating with a message in
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which he said he was standing outside her building on Madison Avenue and ringing her doorbell.
Scheisse. There was no way she could explain what had happened. But she couldn’t ignore Paul either, so she quickly manufactured an excuse and texted it to him:
Paul, hi. Sorry. Didn’t hear doorbell. Broken? Emerson scolded me but won’t have to drop class (phew). Have to find new advisor. Working on it. Chat later & thanks, Julia
She hoped her message would be enough to occupy him until she constructed a better explanation. She supposed she would have to speak to Gabriel about that so that they could get their story straight.
Something Gabriel had said yesterday made her curious about the contents of the envelope he’d left for her in her mailbox. Opening it, in addition to her black lace bra she found her iPod. She pulled it out, placed the ear buds in her ears, and scrolled through the music to the Recently Added Song section, where she discovered that Gabriel had made two additions.
The first song was Prospero’s Speech by Loreena McKennitt. With surprise, Julia listened to the haunting female voice sing words from Shakespeare’s The Tempest:
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from your crimes would pardon’d be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
Julia listened to the song twice more, stunned by both the language and the music. She had known long ago that Gabriel was intense; Grace had said so. And Julia had experienced his intensity during their first encounter, when he’d gazed into her eyes as if she was the first woman he had ever seen.
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“Julianne?”
She let out a small cry and clapped a hand over her mouth. Gabriel was standing in front of her with three small bags in one hand and a bouquet of purple irises in the other. Staring, she removed the ear buds from her ears. He eyed her iPod curiously and smiled.
Julia smiled back. In response, he leaned toward her, his eyes locked on hers, and lightly pressed his lips to her left cheek and then to her right. She thought he was approaching her mouth, so when he touched her cheek she felt disappointed. Nevertheless, a spark surged from his lips, causing her heart to speed. She blushed and looked down at her hands.
“Good morning, Julianne. I’m glad you stayed. How did you sleep?” Gabriel’s voice was gentle.
“I slept well — later on.”
He reached behind her to place the groceries and flowers on the breakfast bar.
“As did I.” He made no move to touch her but followed her gaze to her fingers.
Julia shivered slightly as she thought of what he had done to her fingers the night before.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
“You’re quivering.” Gabriel’s eyebrows knit together, creating a furrow in between them. “Am I making you nervous?”
“A little.”
He withdrew to the kitchen and began unpacking the groceries.
“What did you buy?” she asked, gesturing to the bags.
“Pastries and a baguette. There’s a French bakery around the corner that makes the best pain au chocolat in the city. Also, some cheese from the cheese shop downstairs, fruit, and a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes.” He smiled and waited.
She wrinkled her nose. “Will you tell me what the surprise is?”
“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise.”
She rolled her eyes, and he laughed at her.
“Baci,” he said.
Julia paused. Kisses?
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Gabriel saw her reaction and realized the double entendre had not been understood. He pulled something from one of the grocery bags and placed it in the center of his right palm, holding it out to her as one might hold out an apple to tempt a horse.
The similarity was not lost on Julia, who looked at the small, foil-wrapped chocolate with an upturned nose.
“I thought you liked them,” he said, a tinge of hurt coloring his voice. “When Antonio gave you one, you said they were your favorite.”
“They are. But I’m not supposed to take chocolates from men, remember? I think you gave me an order to that effect when we were at Lobby with Rachel.” Julia took the proffered chocolate and eagerly unwrapped it, popping it into her mouth.
“I don’t order you around.”
She gaped at him while she chewed and swallowed her chocolate. “Are you kidding?”
“No.”
“What planet are you from? Hello, my name is Gabriel, and I’m from the planet of bossy-no-self-awareness.”
He frowned. “Very amusing, Julianne.” He cleared his throat and searched her eyes. “Be serious for a moment. You think I order you around?”
“Gabriel, you do nothing but. You only have one form of direct address, and it’s the imperative; do this, do that, come here. On top of all that, like Paul, you seem to think I belong in a zoo. Or a children’s book.”
At the mere mention of Paul’s name Gabriel’s frown deepened into a scowl. “Someone had to attend to our situation yesterday. I was trying to protect both of us. And I asked you to talk to me, Julianne. I tried to talk to you for days, but you spurned me.”
“What was I supposed to do? You’re an emotional rollercoaster, and I wanted to climb off. I never know whether you’re going to be sweet and whisper something that takes my breath away or say something so fucking mean it breaks my…” She stopped herself.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “I apologize for being mean. There’s no excuse for that.”
She muttered something under her breath as he stared at her.
“I find you — difficult to talk to sometimes. I never know what you’re thinking, and you’re only forthcoming when you’re furious. Like now.”
She sniffed. “I’m not furious.”
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“Then I need you to talk to me a little.” His voice was soft again.
He took a risk and began running his fingers through her long, damp curls. “You smell like vanilla,” he whispered.
“It’s your shampoo.”
“So you think I’m bossy?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel sighed. “It’s habit, I suppose. Years of living alone have made me boorish, and I’m out of practice with being considerate. But I’ll try to watch how I speak to you in future. As for Paul and the pet names, it’s insulting that he refers to you as a rabbit. Rabbits end up as entrées, so that needs to stop. But what about kitten? I thought that was rather…sweet.”
“Not when you’re twenty-three and petite and trying to be taken seriously in Academia.”
“What about when you’re twenty-three and beautiful and someone who’s thirty-three and a professional academic says it to you because actually, he thinks you’re seriously sexy?”
Julia pulled away. “Don’t make fun of me, Gabriel. That’s mean.”
“I would never make fun of you.” He gave her a serious look. “Julianne, look at me.”
She kept her eyes on the floor.
He waited somewhat impatiently until she met his gaze again. “I would never make fun of you. And certainly not about something like that.”
She grimaced and looked away.
“But perhaps kitten is a lover’s word.”
Julia reddened as he continued unpacking the groceries. At length, he turned to her. “It meant a great deal to me to fall asleep with you in my arms last night. Thank you.”
She avoided his eyes.
“Look at me, please,” he breathed.
Their eyes met, and Julia was surprised at Gabriel’s expression. He looked worried. “Are you ashamed of coming to my bed?”
She shook her head.
“It reminded me of our first night together.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up this morning. I was awake at dawn. The sight of you sound asleep reminded me of da Vinci’s La
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Scapigliata. You looked very serene with your head resting on my shoulder. And very, very beautiful.” He reached across the breakfast bar and tenderly pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So you slept — well?”
“Too well. Why did you light candles in your bedroom?”
He ran his thumb across one of her eyebrows. “You’d already told me what you thought about the darkness. I wanted you to see Holiday’s painting and me. I didn’t know how you’d feel about staying the night. I was worried you’d run.”
“That was, um, considerate of you. Thank you.”
His hand stilled against her cheek as his blue eyes pierced into hers, scorching her. “I am a good lover, Julianne, in all senses of the word.”
When he withdrew, she tried, almost in vain, to catch her breath. “Tell me why you disliked me so much.”
“I didn’t dislike you. I was distracted and short-tempered during the first seminar. You seemed familiar to me. I asked you a question so you’d show me your face. When you ignored me, I lost my temper. I’m not used to being ignored.”
She chewed her lip slightly.
“I realize that isn’t an excuse — I’m just offering an explanation. Simply looking at you elicited very strong feelings. I didn’t know where they were coming from, and I resented them. My resentment quickly spiraled into something vicious. But my rudeness to you was absolutely inexcusable.” Gabriel reached over to free her lip from her teeth. “I was punished for it afterward. Scott telephoned to tell me Grace had died, and that she died whispering my name because I wasn’t there. He told me her deathbed distress was my fault…”
Julia took his hand in hers and without thinking, kissed it. “I’m so sorry.”
Now he brought his lips to hers and pressed them together tightly. They remained still for a few moments until he began shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“I’m hungry,” she murmured, interpreting his signal.
“Shall I feed you?”
Julia nodded, growing a good deal too warm as she recalled how he had fed her the night before.
“Latté or espresso?” He turned to the espresso machine.
“Latté, please.”
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She stood for a moment, watching him, before taking a closer look at the irises he’d purchased.
“Could you put those in water, please? There’s a crystal vase on top of the sideboard in the dining room. You can move the hyacinths from last night or leave them where they are.”
She walked over to the buffet, admiring its ebony beauty once again, and fetched the empty vase. “I heard your music last night. It was beautiful.”
“I find classical music soothing. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”
“You didn’t. Why did you choose irises?”
“Fleur-de-lis,” he said simply, placing her latté, which he had poured into a bowl in the Parisian style, in front of her. “And I know your favorite color is purple.”
“They’re my favorite flower,” she remarked shyly, more to herself than to him.
“Mine too, probably because they symbolize Florence. But for you, I think the association has a deeper meaning.” He winked at her impertinently and began preparing breakfast.
Julia huffed slightly. She knew what he was referring to: the iris was a symbol of Mary in the Middle Ages and so it became associated with virginity. In giving her irises, Gabriel was saluting her purity. Which was a strange thing for a would-be lover to do, she had to admit.
Maybe he was serious about being friends, after all.
Taking the flowers and her coffee with her, she went to the dining room. She sat down and sipped her drink, trying to plan what to say to him.
He joined her shortly, bringing her breakfast and seating himself in the chair next to her at the head of the table.
“Buon appetito.”
Julia quickly concluded that she was eating better at Gabriel’s than she had ever eaten, outside of Italy. In front of her sat a plate of fresh fruit, pain au chocolat, and sliced baguette and cheese, most notably Brie, Mimolette, and Gorgonzola. He’d even decorated their plates with parsley and orange sections.
He held up his champagne flute and waited until she did the same. “These are Bellinis, not Mimosas. I thought you’d prefer it.”
They clinked their glasses together, and Julia took a sip. It tastes like a sparkling peach, she thought. It was so much better than orange juice. Although she wondered why he’d decided to drink again.
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“You’re very good at this,” she said.
“Good at what?”
“Seductive food play. I’m sure your overnight guests don’t want to leave.”
Gabriel placed his fork down somewhat roughly on his plate and wiped his lips with his linen napkin. “I am not in the habit of entertaining overnight guests. And certainly never like this.” He glared at her. “I thought it would be obvious that you are different — that I’m treating you differently.” He shook his head. “Perhaps not.”
“You said we’d talk,” she injected, changing the subject.
“Yes.” He gazed at her for a moment. “I have some questions I would like to ask, and I have some things to say.”
“I didn’t agree to an inquisition.”
“This is hardly an inquisition. A few questions, primarily because when I first met you I was not entirely lucid. So forgive me if I wish to have a clearer idea of what actually happened.” Gabriel’s tone was slightly sarcastic.
She speared a strawberry with her fork and bolted it. Fine. Let him ask questions. I have a few to ask as well, and they won’t be pretty.
“Before we begin, I think we should agree to some ground rules. I’d like to speak to you about the past before we discuss the present or the future. Is that all right?”
“Agreed.”
“And I promise that what you say to me will be kept strictly confidential. I hope that you will extend the same courtesy to me.”
“Of course.”
“Are there any ground rules you’d like to establish?”
“Um, just that we tell one another the truth.”
“Absolutely. Now, how old were you when we first met?”
“I’m the same age as Rachel,” she began, evasively, and when he looked at her sharply she added, “seventeen.”
“Seventeen?”
Gabriel cursed several times and took a lengthy drink of his Bellini. He was clearly rattled by her revelation, which more than surprised her. “Why did you come to see me that night?”
“I didn’t. I was invited to dinner, but when I arrived Rachel and Aaron were flying out the door. I heard a noise and found you on the porch.”
Gabriel seemed to think about this for a moment. “You knew who I was?”
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“They talked about you all the time.”
“Did you know how fucked up I was?”
“No. No one ever said anything bad about you, at least not in front of me. Even afterward. They only said nice things.”
“What happened the morning after?”
This was the part that Julia didn’t want to talk about. She ignored his question and began eating her pastry, knowing he wouldn’t expect her to answer when her mouth was full.
“This is important, Julianne. I want to know what happened. My memory of the next morning is a little fuzzy.”
Her eyes flashed to his, and she swallowed hard.
“Really? Well, let me enlighten you. I woke up before sunrise, alone, in the middle of the woods. You left me there. I was terrified, so I grabbed the blanket and took off. But I couldn’t remember the path we took, and it was still dark. I wandered around in hysterics for almost two hours until I finally found my way back to your parents’ house.” Julia started to shake. “I didn’t think I’d ever find my way back.”
“That’s where you went,” he breathed.
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t leave you.”
“What do you call it then?”
“I must have woken up shortly before you did. You were asleep in my arms, and I didn’t want to wake you, but I had to — relieve myself. So I wandered off. Then I stopped for a smoke and picked a few apples for our breakfast. When I returned, you were gone. I went back to the house but you weren’t there. I assumed you’d left, and I went upstairs to crash in my old bedroom.”
“You assumed I’d left?”
“Yes.” He gazed at her steadily.
“I called your name, Gabriel! I shouted for you.”
“I didn’t hear you. I was hungover, and maybe I wandered a little too far away.”
“You didn’t smoke when you were with me,” she sounded skeptical.
“No, I didn’t. And I quit soon afterward.”
“Why didn’t you try to find me?”
Guilt clouded his eyes, and he looked away.
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“My family woke me up, demanding that I deal with the aftermath of the night before. When I asked where Beatrice was, Richard told me I was delusional.”
“What about Rachel?”
“I left before she returned. She refused to speak to me for months.”
“Don’t lie to me, Gabriel. I brought your jacket back. I folded it and put it on top of the blanket and set it on the porch. That was a clue. And didn’t someone see my bike?”
“I don’t know what they saw. Grace gave me my jacket, and no one mentioned you or your name, not that I would have recognized it. It was as if you were a ghost.”
“How could you have thought it was a dream? You weren’t that drunk.”
He closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Julia watched the tendons stand out on his arms, rippling up and down.
Gabriel opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on the table. “Because I was hungover and confused, and I was strung out on coke.”
Slam.
That was the sound of Julia’s fairy tale crashing into the unyielding wall of reality. Her eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply.
“Didn’t Rachel ever tell you what precipitated the fight? Richard knew when he picked me up at the airport in Harrisburg that I was on something. He searched my room before dinner and found my stash. When he confronted me, I snapped.”
Julia closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.
He sat very still, waiting for her to speak.
“Cocaine,” she whispered.
Gabriel squirmed in his chair. “Yes.”
“I spent the night in the woods, alone, with a twenty-seven-year-old coke head who was strung out and drunk. What a stupid, stupid girl.”
He clenched his teeth. “Julianne, you are not stupid. I’m the fuck up. I should have known better than to lead you out there in my condition.”
She exhaled slowly and her shoulders began to shudder.
“Look at me, Julianne.”
She shook her head.
“I saw your father that morning.”
Julia peered over at him. “You did?”
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“You know what it’s like to live in a small town. The gossip started when Richard brought Scott to the hospital and neither of them would explain how he got hurt. Your father caught wind of it and came over to see if he could help.”
“He never mentioned it.”
“Richard and Grace were embarrassed. I’m sure your father wanted to protect them from small town gossip. Since no one but you and I knew what happened between us…” His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell Rachel?”
“I was traumatized. And humiliated.”
Gabriel winced. He reached over to take her hand in his, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t you remember what happened between us?”
Julia threw his hand back.
“Of course I remember! That’s the reason I’ve been so screwed up. Sometimes I’d think back to that night and I’d believe what you said. I’d try to convince myself that you must have had a reason for leaving.
“Other times, all I could think about was how you abandoned me, and I’d have nightmares about being lost in the woods. But do you know what the sickest thing is? I hoped that you would come back. For years I hoped you’d show up on my doorstep and tell me you wanted me. That you meant what you’d said about being glad you’d found me. How pathetic is that?”
“That is not pathetic. I agree that it looked like I abandoned you, but I swear I didn’t. And believe me, if I had thought for one moment that you were real and living in Selinsgrove, I would have shown up on your doorstep.” He cleared his throat, and Julia felt the reverberation of his knee bouncing up and down underneath the table. “I am an addict. This is who I am. I have a need to control things and people, and that need will never go away.”
“Are you on something now?”
“Of course not! You think I’d do that do you?”
“If you’re an addict, you’re an addict. Whether I’m here or not makes no difference.”
“It makes a difference to me.”
“Addictive personalities can latch on to anything: drugs, alcohol, sex, people…what if you become addicted to me?”
“I am already addicted to you, Beatrice. Only you’re far more dangerous than cocaine.”
Julia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
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He reached over to take her hand again, stroking the veins that stood out against her pale, thin wrist. “I’m confessing to you now. I’m destructive. I’m moody. I have a bad temper. Some of that has to do with my addiction and some of that has to do with my — past.
“Was it wrong of me to think so highly of you that my only explanation for your existence was that you were either the product of a desperate mind or the crown of God’s creation?”
His words and his face were so intense that Julia had to pull away. The combination of his voice and the feel of his long cool fingers stroking her veins…She was worried her skin would catch fire and she would disintegrate into a pile of ash. “Are you still doing drugs?”
“No.”
“Recreationally?”
“No. After my disgusting behavior in Selinsgrove, Grace convinced me to get help. I was planning to kill myself — I just needed some money to settle my affairs. My night with you changed all that. When they told me there was no one called Beatrice, I assumed you were a hallucination or an angel. And in either case, I thought someone, God perhaps, had shown mercy to me and sent you to save me. Lo seme di felicità messo de Dio nell’ anima ben posta.”
Julia closed her eyes at the sound of Dante’s words from the Convivio. The seed of felicity sent by God into a well-disposed soul.
Gabriel cleared his throat. “Scott agreed not to press charges if I went into treatment immediately. So Richard drove me to Philadelphia that same day and checked me into a hospital. After I went through my initial detox, he took me back to Boston and put me in rehab so that I would be close to my…job.” He shifted in his chair.
Julia opened her eyes, a troubled look on her face.
“Why did you want to kill yourself, Gabriel?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know what would happen if I brought those old demons back, Beatrice.”
“Are you still suicidal?”
He cleared his throat. “No. Part of my depression was caused by the drugs. Part of it was caused by — other factors in my life that I have tried to deal with. But you know as well as I that a suicidal person is a person who has lost hope. I found my hope when I found you.”
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His eyes blazed intensely, and Julia decided to change the subject. “Your mother was an alcoholic?”
“Yes.”
“What about your father?”
“I don’t speak of him.”
“Rachel told me about the money.”
“That’s the only good thing that ever came out of him,” Gabriel growled.
“That’s not true,” Julia said quietly.
“Why not?”
“Because he made you, that’s why.”
Gabriel’s face immediately softened, and he pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
“Was your father an alcoholic?” she asked.
“I don’t know. He was the ceo of a company in New York and died of a heart attack. I didn’t care to discover anything else about him.”
“Are you an alcoholic?”
“No.”
Julia carefully folded her linen napkin with shaking fingers and pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m glad you’re not doing drugs, and I’m glad you’re in recovery. But I won’t get involved with an alcoholic. Life is too short to be bound to that kind of misery.”
He stared at her steadily, searching her eyes. “I agree. But if you were to spend time with me, you would realize that I am not an alcoholic. And I pledge not to get drunk anymore. It’s unfortunate that I’ve only gotten drunk once in the past six months and you happened to witness it.”
“My mother went in and out of recovery several times, and she never stuck with it. What happens if you start doing drugs again? Not to mention the fact that you have this delusional vision of Beatrice. I’m not her, Gabriel. You want an ideal, or a drug-induced misperception, not me.”
“I’ve been clean for six years. I didn’t just get out of recovery. Nevertheless, I know that I am deeply, deeply flawed. But I want to know you, just you, as you are. I want you to be yourself, and yes, Julianne, I know you’re more than just a dream. Your reality is far more beautiful and alluring than any dream. I’d choose you over the dream any time.”
A tear slid down her cheek, which she wiped away hastily. “You don’t know me. You never knew me. You held Dante’s Beatrice in your arms that night, the image from his writings and from Holiday’s painting, not me.”
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Gabriel shook his head. “What I felt was real. What I did was real.”
“You thought it was real, but that’s part of the illusion.”
“It was real, Julia. It was everything. As soon as I touched you I knew…and when I touched you again…I remembered you. My body remembered you. It was only my conscious mind that had forgotten.”
“I’m not that little girl anymore. And the woman I am you despised on sight.”
“That is not true. You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”
“You want a pet kitten.”
“No, Beatrice.”
She spoke through clenched teeth. “Stop calling me that.”
“I’m sorry, Julianne. I know that I hurt you. I know I have a dark side. Will you let me show you that I can be good? Very, very good?”
“It’s too late. I can’t.” Though it pained her to do so, she walked to the front door, grabbing her knapsack and her coat on the way.
“What about last night?” he asked, striding after her. “Did that mean nothing to you?”
“What should it have meant? Tell me!” She hugged her knapsack close to her chest and backed up against the wall.
He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and leaned closer. “Do I have to explain it? Didn’t you feel it?”
He brought his face to hers, his lips inches from her mouth. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. She shivered.
“Feel what?”
“Your body and mine together. You came to me last night, Julianne. You came to my bed. Why did you do that? Why did you tell me you couldn’t stay away? Because we’re soul mates, just like Aristophanes described — one soul in two bodies. You’re my missing half. You’re my bashert.”
“Bashert? Do you even know what that means? Bashert is bashert, Gabriel; destiny is destiny. It can mean anything you want, and it doesn’t have to mean me.”
He smiled at her widely. “Your linguistic knowledge constantly surprises me.”
“I know that word.”
“Of course, my lovely. Because you’re smart.” He brought his fingertips lightly to her neck, stroking up and down.
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“Gabriel — stop it.” She pushed him away so she could think clearly. “You’re clean, but you’re still an addict. I am the child of an alcoholic. I won’t let this happen.”
“I don’t deserve you. I know that. Conosco i segni dell’antica fiamma. I felt it the first time I took your hand. The first time I kissed you. And it was all there last night — every feeling, every memory, every sensation I had before was there. It was real. Look at me and tell me it meant nothing to you, and I will let you go.”
She closed her eyes to block out his pleadings, his assertion that he knew the signs of the ancient flame.
“You can’t do it, can you? Your skin remembers me, and so does your heart. You told them to forget, but they can’t. Remember me, Beatrice. Remember your first.”
His lips met her neck, and she felt her pulse begin to race under his touch. Her body was a traitor; it would not lie. It would not listen to reason. He could have asked her anything in this position, and she would have agreed to it. The thought made her desperate.
“Please, Gabriel.”
“Please, what?” he whispered, trailing angel soft kisses up and down her neck, finally pausing so he could feel her lifeblood flow under his mouth.
“Please let me go.”
“I can’t.” He tugged her knapsack and her coat out of her hands and dropped them to the floor.
“I don’t trust you.”
“I know.”
“You’ll shatter me, Gabriel, and that will be the end of me.”
“Never.”
He brought his hands to cup her face, and just as she closed her eyes, he paused. Julia waited, expecting the smooth wetness of his lips to connect with hers, but they didn’t. She waited. Then she opened her eyes.
Gabriel’s eyes were large, soft and warm, and staring down at her. He smiled. He began by stroking her face, gentle caresses here and there, exploring every curve, every line, as if he was memorizing it. He moved to her neck, using a single fingertip from his right hand to travel back and forth. Julia shivered.
He brought his lips to her ear. “Relax, my darling.” He nibbled her earlobe and nuzzled her neck enticingly. “Let me show you what I can do when I take it slow.”
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Holding her face in his hands, he brushed his lips to her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her chin. Only when she closed her eyes a second time did he cover her mouth with his lips. By then, Julia was already breathless.
As soon as their lips met, there was a rush of blood and heat and energy. But Gabriel was careful and would not speed. His lips matched hers, moving back and forth, their skin humming with the soft friction. But he did not open his mouth. His hands moved to her hair, tangling gently, massaging her scalp and floating downward.
Julia was less gentle as she grabbed at the back of his head, tugging and twining his hair around her fingers. Their mouths continued to press together, smoothing over every inch. His tongue peeked out, and he drew it languorously across her upper lip, tasting her tentatively before sucking her lower lip between his.
It was tempting. It was teasing. It was the slowest kiss he’d ever given. And it made his heart beat quickly. When she moaned against his mouth, he tilted her head back so that she would open for him. But he would not rush. He waited for her jaw to soften, and when she could wait no more and her own tongue hesitantly came out to meet his, only then did he allow himself to accept her invitation.
She would have responded at a fevered pace, but Gabriel controlled the kiss, and he wished to kiss her softly. Gently. Leisurely. It took half an age for his hands to travel from her face down the sides of her neck so that they were kneading her shoulders. And another half an age for those same hands to slide down her spine and under her clothes to find bare skin. All this time he was slowly exploring her mouth as if he’d never have a second chance.
He gasped and groaned when his hands slipped and found the dimples he’d discovered the night before. He already thought of them as uncharted territory, found first by his explorations, even though he had no right, no right at all to claim her.
His fingers glided across her skin as Julia whimpered and clung to him. Her helpless sounds were more erotic than any wanton moan that had ever filled his ears. It pierced and enflamed him. Then he was pressing up against her, returning soft, delicate curves with sinew and steel, subtly switching places so it was his back that flattened against the wall, for he was unwilling to trap her, to make her feel like she’d been cornered. Instead, he let her corner him.
Julia was breathing his breath, hot and moist inside her mouth. He was her oxygen. She couldn’t stop kissing long enough to truly inhale, and her
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head began to float. It made the feel of his lips more intense, so she didn’t fight it. She just gave in, licking and sucking and moving…
Gabriel retreated minutely, breaking the kiss.
He let his thumbs trace the curve of the naked skin at her waist. She inhaled quickly, and he hugged her close, wrapping his arms around her and feeling her breasts pressed up against him.
“You need to become accustomed to my lips, Julia, because I intend to kiss you a lot.” He kissed her hair and smiled down at her, looking truly happy.
When she eventually found her voice, it shook. “Gabriel, I make no promises. I agree to nothing. One kiss doesn’t change that.”
His smile disappeared, but he continued to hold her closely. He reached out a finger and pushed some of the hair back from her face.
“Just give me a chance. We can take it slowly and try to heal one another.”
“Last night you spoke of being friends. Friends don’t kiss like that.”
He chuckled. “We can be friends. We can follow the model of courtly love, if you wish. I’ll just have to remember that the next time I kiss you. And so will you.”
Julia looked away. “I don’t trust you enough to be anything else. And even if I did, you’ve got the wrong girl. You will be sorely disappointed with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You will never be satisfied only with me, and you will leave once you realize that. So have mercy on me and choose someone more sexually compatible before one of us ends up hurt.”
She watched as the color in his face deepened and his eyes began to blaze. She waited for him to explode.
“What did he do to you?”
That was not the question she expected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gabriel looked at her carefully, measuring her expression. He stood away from the wall and drew himself up to his full height, straightening his shoulders. “I don’t know what he did to make you think so little of yourself, but I am not him. Didn’t our night in the orchard demonstrate that our connection is not based on sex?” He stroked her hair for a moment with a
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gentleness that belied the fierceness of his tone. “I could kill him for doing this to you,” he whispered, “for crushing your spirit.
“I won’t deny that I’ve indulged myself and been far from monogamous. But I want something more, something real. And I know you want that too. What are the chances that your next boyfriend will be a virgin? Almost nil. Your self-esteem will be an issue with anyone you date, not just me. And any man who would leave you because you were sexually inexperienced is not worth missing. You have to have faith, Julia, and you have to have hope. Even if you don’t have any hope for us, you have to have hope for yourself. Otherwise, you will never let anyone love you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know more about you than you think and the rest I wish to learn. Teach me, Beatrice. I’ll enroll in your university as your student. Teach me how to care for you.”
“Please, Gabriel. Be serious!”
“I am serious. There are a lot of things that we don’t know about each other. Things I am looking forward to finding out and exploring.”
“I won’t be shared.”
He growled. “I am not in the habit of sharing what’s precious to me. I’m not going to allow another man to put his hands on you, and that includes Paul and any other Angelfucker out there.”
“I won’t share you, either.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that goes without saying.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed.
“I would expect you not to sleep with anyone else, even while I’m still — deciding. As a demonstration of good faith.”
“Done.”
Julia laughed. “You say it as if it were easy! You’re willing to give up all of your female companions just like that in order to pursue the possibility of something with me? I don’t believe you.”
“I’m gaining more, much more than I am losing, believe me. And I intend to make you see that, over and over and over again.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.
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“Paulina…” she whispered.
Gabriel continued kissing her, moving down to where her neck curved into her shoulder. “Don’t worry about her.”
“I won’t share you with her.”
“You won’t have to.” He sounded impatient.
“Is Paulina your wife?”
He pulled back and fixed her with a stony look. “Of course not. What do you take me for?”
“Ex-wife?”
“Julianne, stop it. No, she is not my ex-wife. End of conversation.”
“I want to know about her.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“For reasons I’d rather not discuss. I told you I’m not sleeping with her, and I won’t. That should be enough for you.”
“What about m-a-i-a?”
His face grew harsh. “No.”
“I saw the tattoo on your chest, Gabriel. I saw the letters.”
He crossed his arms. “I can’t.”
“Then I can’t, either.” She reached down to pick up her knapsack and coat.
He stopped her. “Julianne, tell me who made you feel so insecure about yourself and your sexual abilities. Was it Simon?”
She cringed.
“Tell me.”
“Don’t say his name around me.”
“You said it. You said his name in your sleep. You sounded upset. Tell me.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it makes me sick,” she whispered, silently pleading with him to change the subject.
An insight, dark and disturbing, slowly took hold of Gabriel’s mind. And once it took hold, he could not rid himself of it.
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“Julianne, he didn’t…force you, did he?”
She hung her head. “No, Gabriel. I’m a virgin.”
He paused for a moment, exhaling slowly. “You would be a virgin even if he had forced you. You would be a virgin to me.”
His voice was so pained and so sincere, her heart almost snapped under the weight of it.
“That’s very noble of you. But I wasn’t raped.”
He closed his eyes for a second and sighed deeply. “We both have secrets we don’t want to tell. I won’t lie to you, but I can’t tell you everything. Not today. And based on the look in your eyes, I know you’re keeping some very painful secrets from me. But I accept that. I’m not going to pressure you to talk about them.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.
“So we’re going to keep secrets from each other?” She sounded puzzled.
“For now, yes.”
“There’s still the fact that I’m your student.”
He kissed her again to prevent her from saying anything further. “That’s another secret we’ll have to keep. But darling, I don’t want to have the rest of our conversation in this damned hallway. Please come back to the table and finish your breakfast. We can talk over coffee or we can just eat in silence. But please don’t leave. Please.”
Julia’s eyes darted toward the door. “I need to know how you feel about me, Gabriel,” she began uncertainly. “I need to know that this isn’t a game for you. Do you even like me at all? The real me?”
He gave her a puzzled look. “Of course I like you. And I would like to win your affection. Where we go from there is up to you.”
She reached uncertain fingers to stroke his hair. He closed his eyes and relaxed into her touch, inhaling and exhaling deeply. When she was finished, he opened his eyes, and Julia saw hunger in them.
He smiled, and the hunger was replaced by something else.
Hope. The sight of hope on Gabriel’s face made her tears come.
“This isn’t how I imagined it,” she wept, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Finding you again is so different from what I dreamed. And you aren’t who I thought you were.”
“I know.” He wrapped himself around her and softly kissed her forehead.
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“I had a crush on you when I was seventeen, Gabriel. My first real crush. And it wasn’t even you. I’ve wasted my whole life on a delusion.”
“I’m sorry I disappointed you. I wish I was the knight rather than the dragon. But I’m not.” He pulled back to stare deeply into her eyes. “Everything is up to you. You can rescue me or banish me with a single word.”
Julia pressed her face against his chest and wondered if she ever had a choice.
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