Rushing into the office to grab my keys, I lock up and then hustle to my truck, going after my girl.
As bad as I feel for Lucy, Gabby is so much more important to me.
Chapter Eighteen
Gabby
I should be used to disappointment by now. My life has been full of disappointments, after all. Perhaps this is Karma kicking me in the ass for cheating on my husband.
Even as a child, life seemed to have a way of letting me down. Mainly because my parents didn’t have the money or the time. They worked a lot to keep a roof over our heads.
By the time Mamá decided to stay home and be with us more often, it was a little too late. I’d pretty much grown into my own person. I was used to not getting my way, so I dealt with it.
Maybe that’s why I dealt with Kyle for so long. He had his way with me many times, and I allowed it. I didn’t really expect any better after the first time he let me down.
I’m starting to think maybe it isn’t other people who are the problem. It’s me.
With my legs pulled up to my chest, I stare ahead at the rippling ocean. The sun sits on the horizon, the sky layered with creamy orange, lavender, and cotton candy blues. Seagulls caw, making their way home before it gets dark.
I’m sitting on Mitchelville Beach, surrounded by seashells and sand, dunes, grass, and even trees stacked behind me. It isn’t your average beach, and I think that’s what attracted me to it. It’s quiet here. Peaceful. A place where nature can actually be.
Standing up, I walk to the water, letting it surround my ankles. I close my eyes and lift my arms, taking in the salty breeze that whips at my hair. The waves are cool around my ankles before sliding back to the large body of water.
There’s a tightness in my chest, and I don’t know how, but tears have slid down my cheeks. I don’t wipe them away, though.
I can’t.
I simply drop my arms, keeping my eyes closed, trying to figure out exactly what my purpose is in this world.
At one point in time, I thought I was supposed to be married and happy. I thought that perhaps I was only supposed to be a wife who was devoted to her husband—the kind of wife who loved cooking and cleaning and giving her husband everything he ever wanted.
I realize now that I am not that kind of woman. I have never been that kind of woman, and I knew it when Kyle asked me to marry him, yet I went through with it anyway.
I had dreams—goals. I went to college and got a degree in art history, hoping one day I could become an artist myself, maybe make a little money doing what I loved.
I let that all go for Kyle.
Like a fool, I set myself back, just to make someone else happy. I’ve done that my entire life—never giving myself the chance to live, chase my dreams, and be happy.
God. What is wrong with me?
The tears are thicker now, droplets landing on my chest. I feel something warm touch my cheek, then it runs over the length of my cheekbone. It touches the other side, and my eyes flutter open.
I’m met with apologetic eyes as blue as the Mediterranean Sea, parted pink lips, and a strong chin sprinkled with stubble.
“Marcel,” I whisper, almost like I’m imagining him here, but I know he’s here. I smell him, his familiar scent taking over every single one of my senses.
“I’m so sorry, Gabby” he pleads, his eyes sincere.
I blink some of my tears away, stumbling back a little. “How did you find me?”
“You mentioned this beach last night. I hoped maybe you’d come here. Glad I was right.”
He actually remembers? It’s surprising, considering the fact that most men would have forgotten a conversation like that as soon as it was over.
Even so, I can’t bring myself to be fully relieved that he found me. I don’t know if this is right for us at all. Maybe we aren’t meant for each other, but were placed in each other’s lives as a means to save one another.
I turn away, grabbing my sandals and rushing though the sand, toward the wooden bridge that’s in between a line of trees.
“Gabby, wait!” Marcel calls after me. “Stop runnin’ away from your problems!”
“No!” I shout back, trudging through the sand.
“Just listen to me! I’m here with you right now! Doesn’t that mean somethin’ to you? If I was really hidin’ somethin’ like that, do you think I would have come here to find you?”
“I don’t know!” I scream back.
I hear him huff, and before I know it, he’s jogging around me. He stops in front of me, holding his hands up, a silent plea for me to stop and listen. I try going around him, but he extends his long arms out, catching me.
“Please, Marcel! Just leave me alone, okay? You don’t deserve to be stuck with someone like me! You need better!”
“I’m not stuck with you!” He grabs my hands, holding them tight. I try and yank them away, but he continues holding on. “Quit thinkin’ that shit! Quit tryin’ to push me away! I’m not goin’ anywhere, and I’ve told you that a million fuckin’ times!”
“I don’t care!” I lower my gaze, and when I am finally able to yank my hands away successfully, I swipe hard at my tears. “I’m so tired of being disappointed, Marcel! I’m tired of everyone in my life treating me like I’m not worth a damn thing!”
“I know you are, Gabby? Okay? Trust me, I get it, and the last thing I want to do is disappoint you or make you feel that way. I swear.” His voice is so gentle that it makes my heart ache even more.
“So why did you?” My voice cracks as I meet his eyes again.
“I—” He sighs, looking me over before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I never intended to. Lucy called me last night, told me she wanted to see me because something bad had happened, and I told her I couldn’t because I was with you. I told her she could meet me at my office today.”
“Well what the hell happened to her?”
“Her fiancé died.”
“Oh.” I blink rapidly.
“He died from a heart attack last night. I told her many times before if she ever needed a friend or a shoulder to cry on, that I was here. She doesn’t have any family in Hilton and neither do I, so she wanted to talk to me. I know it sounds weird, especially knowin’ she was my escort before, but I promise you, her meetin’ me today wasn’t like that, Gabby. Despite what we did, she was my friend, and I help my friends no matter what. If that offends you then I’m sorry. I know I should have told you, but I just…I fucked up, all right?”
“Wow,” I let out a small breath, tucking my hair behind my ears. Now I feel like a total bitch. “I just wish you would have told me she was meeting you there.”
“I know, I know, but I didn’t know how you would take it, Gabby. I figured you’d worry the whole time, and I really didn’t know what happened, either.”
I shake my head, pulling my gaze away. I sometimes loathe the fact that he knows me so well.
He moves closer, taking my hands in his and squeezing them lightly. “I would never do somethin’ like that to you. After everything you’ve been through, the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I fuckin’ love you, and you mean everything to me. Yes, I should have told you about the call, but I’m just…I guess I’m not used to tellin’ people every little thing that goes on in my life. I’m used to bein’ on my own, doin’ my own thing, but I see now that all of that has to change. It has to, if I want to keep you.”
His words. Ugh. I love them so much. It takes me a while to block the emotion enough to speak. “I’m sorry,” I whisper brokenly. “Lately I feel like I’m in your way—like I’m invading your space. I don’t know.”
“You’re not, Gabby.” He cups my face in his hands, forcing me to put my eyes on his. “I promise you. Havin’ you around has been the best thing to happen to me in a very long time, believe it or not. It feels good havin’ someone at home waitin’ for me.”
“Well if that’s the case, why do you close your laptop so quickly when I come around? And every
time I ask to use it, you’re always so weird about it. It seems like you’re hiding something from me.”
He looks me over, leaning back a bit. “You’ve noticed that?” He releases my hands, running his fingers through his hair.
“Tell me what’s goin’ on with you, Marcel. I understand the thing with Lucy. You’re a good person with a good heart, but I feel like there is more I should know.”
He’s quiet a beat too long. Then he says, “There are things I never thought I’d have to share. Secrets I’ve carried for years. It’s not usually like me to tell people about it.” He scoffs. “I’m fuckin’ ashamed about it, if we’re bein’ honest.”
“Ashamed about what?”
He drops his head.
I take a step closer. “I want to know what it is, Marcel. Please, tell me.”
He sighs. Sand collects on his feet as he turns sideways, looking at the ocean.
“Is it that bad?” I ask.
“It may have you lookin’ at me differently, and I don’t want your views of me to change.”
Shit. What does that mean? Now I’m starting to freak out.
I twist my fingers around each other as I wait for him to say something.
He grabs my hand, leading the way past the wooden bridge. He walks until he finds an open spot on the sand, right under a tall tree. We sit at the same time, surrounded by tall grass. I can still hear the ocean roaring.
His tongue runs over his dry lips before he begins.
“After Shayla died, I stopped lookin’ for work. I couldn’t afford a funeral, so I had her cremated and then dumped her ashes in Charleston beach.” He drops his head, bringing his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. “Since I wasn’t workin’, I got evicted from the apartment I was stayin’ in. I had to sleep in my truck for a few weeks, but I did start lookin’ for jobs. There was one day when I had finally gotten a job interview for a maintenance technician position at some fancy condos. A woman interviewed me, but she didn’t give me the job because I didn’t meet her education requirements, she said. Not only that, but later I found out the woman who’d interviewed me for the job saw me sleepin’ in my truck before I came in. Anyway, before I left, she told me she could pay me if I fixed some things around her house, ran errands, and all that stuff. I didn’t have any other options, so I agreed.”
My heart is racing. Now we’re talking about a woman? I don’t like where this is going one bit, but I pretend to be calm and nod my head, urging him to go on.
“At the time, I had absolutely nothin’ to lose. I had no money to my name or anything, so I met that woman at her house at the time she told me to. She had me cut her grass, trim the hedges, and clean out the gutters. She was married, I later found out, and the couple offered to let me live with them for as long as I needed to, as long as I did all the errands and maintenance…but there was more of a catch to all of it.”
“What else was there?”
His throat bobs up and down, and his head shakes. “She wanted me.”
“Wanted you? Like to sleep with you?”
Marcel sighs, and his leg is bouncing, like he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s making me nervous as hell. “Yes, but I didn’t want her. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was grateful that she and her husband had let me stay in their home, but I wasn’t really into her that way.”
I twist my fingers in my lap, confused now.
“The couple had let me stay in their house, gave me a room to sleep in until I could save money, and they paid me well. I was savin’ up so I could move into my own place, but I needed a little bit more money before I was comfortable movin’ out, and they knew that. One day, after they had dinner and she went to bed, her husband made me an offer. He wanted me to have sex with his wife once a week until she got pregnant.”
My eyes stretch wide. “Wait…what?”
“Yeah,” he mumbles, looking into the distance. “He told me they’d been havin’ a hard time havin’ a kid. Apparently, he was havin’ functional issues, so he said he’d give me two grand each time I had sex with her, and that I had to finish inside her. I did it around the time she was fertile—sometimes more than once a night—and he gave me two grand for each time I had sex with her. That money, on top of the money they were giving me for maintenance, added up.”
“What the hell, Marcel? They sound twisted.”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have found it so strange if he weren’t sittin’ there watchin’ us. It was another catch of theirs, and it was always hard to finish with him right there starin’ at us, but he loved her, and somethin’ told me it wasn’t their first time doin’ somethin’ like this. Maybe before, they weren’t tryin’ to get pregnant while he watched, but this time they were. They were havin’ trouble havin’ kids, had this random, healthy man helpin’ out around the house and livin’ there, so they turned to me.”
“I—I don’t get it. What does this have to do with the laptop?”
“Because I saw that same couple two weeks ago. It looked like they were on vacation or somethin’. They were walkin’ with a kid—a little boy with dark hair. He had to be about seven years old. He didn’t look anything like the dad.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. “With your kid?” I whisper. “So, she actually ended up pregnant by you?”
Marcel can’t do anything but blink. It’s confirmation enough.
“That’s…” I don’t even know what to say to that. “What did they say when they saw you?”
“They didn’t see me. I saw them leavin’ the grocery store when I got in my truck. I started to get out and say somethin’ to them, but they looked so happy, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew it was what they wanted—to have a kid at any cost—but seein’ them surprised the hell out of me. I had no idea she’d even gotten pregnant.” His throat bobs as he swallows. “I was just the sperm donor, and her husband had made that very clear when we made the agreement. After the second month, I couldn’t do it anymore. It was gettin’ weird around the house, and she hadn’t gotten pregnant the first month, so I figured it wasn’t workin’. I had already been looking for cheap apartments, found one, and was lucky enough to moved out within a few weeks, but before I left, her husband told me not to reach out to them ever again. I thought he’d told me that because he was jealous and didn’t want his wife comin’ to me behind his back, but now that I’ve had time to think about it, and after seein’ them at that store, he must’ve known then that she was pregnant. I had no clue until two weeks ago.”
“Wow.” I hold my hands up, trying to process all of this. “This is a little too much to take in right now. Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I didn’t know how, Gabby. I saw them around the time you were going through the shit with Kyle and your parents. You were trying to cope with what’d happened to you. I didn’t want to add more worry to your life with somethin’ like that. At the time, I wasn’t even sure if it was my kid, but considerin’ his age and his looks, I’m certain he’s mine.”
“Wow,” I huff, looking toward the water. “You biologically have a kid walking around out there.”
“I know.”
“That’s just—” My head sways side to side.
“You aren’t tempted to find out what he might doing?”
“That’s why I was on the laptop. I look the couple up every night now, ever since I saw them. I found them on Facebook—the couple. Richard and Sherry Briar. Sherry posts more than Richard does. The kid is a good kid. He plays soccer, gets good grades, and loves the color red. He has my eyes and my hair. I mean, he looks just like me, Gabby. It’s kind of crazy.”
I face him full on, flabbergasted.
“He’s happy in his photos. They look happy. I know I can’t interfere and throw a wrench into their lives, so it’s better to watch him grow from a distance, I guess.” He shrugs, picking at a loose string on his jeans. “When I was on Facebook, I searched for Sherry a lot. I didn’t want you to see it and t
hink I was out here with another woman.” He shrugs. “I know it’s stupid, but like I told you, my life has been complicated.”
I look away, unsure what to say to that. I can’t exactly be angry about it. This was before he ever even met me, and he was going through a rough time after the loss of his sister, so of course his head wasn’t on straight.
Not only that, but the couple wanted it, and now they don’t want him having anything to do with the kid. I know that bothers him. He seems like the kind of guy who would want to at least get to know someone he helped create, but at the same time, he knows it would cause too much tension and unnecessary drama for the kid.
Marcel isn’t a selfish man. He’d never taint an innocent child’s happiness all for his sake.
“Does that bother you?” he asks when I’m quiet for a little too long.
I side-eye him. “That another woman beat me to the punch? Oh, for sure.”
Marcel laughs. “Beat you to the punch? So, you want my babies, too? I knew it,” he grins.
I shake my head, fighting a laugh. “It is a little weird, but it’s more so the couple whom I find strange. Women are surrogating all the time, though most aren’t getting banged by the husband in order for it to happen. You were just the sperm donor, though they could have been a little classier and had you come in a jar or something, not straight out bang the wife while he watched.”
“I’m certain they did that for their own personal desires more than anything else. She was attracted to me—I could tell from the day I met her—and he was the kind of man who would do anything to please his wife. I got the feeling they were swingers of some sort.”
I nod. I do get it. “Is that all?” I ask. “No more secrets?”
“Well, let me think. I lost my virginity when I was sixteen. When I was twenty-one, I got so drunk I ended up getting alcohol poisoning. You know about Lucy and how I hired her, but that was over way before you and I ever even did anything. You also know what happened to my parents and my sister, so, yeah, I think that’s about it.” He smirks, reaching for my hand and kissing the back of it. “No more secrets, little thing.”
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