Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy

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Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy Page 128

by Sylvain Reynard


  She looked up at him as the tears began to fall.

  “But I love you. We have a history!”

  Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment, and a pained look spread across his face.

  He opened his eyes.

  “I’m in love with someone else. I’m sleeping, exclusively, with someone else.”

  “Yes, you are. And she’s your student.”

  “Careful,” he growled.

  She tossed her hair behind her shoulders.

  “It’s remarkable the kind of information you can gather in a city of this size. Antonio from Harbour Sixty was quite forthcoming.”

  He stepped closer. “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Funny how you took her to the restaurant you always take me to when I’m in town.”

  “I haven’t taken you there in a very long time, Paulina. Even after we stopped—” He paused, struggling.

  “After we stopped—fucking, Gabriel? Why can’t you say it? We’ve been fucking for years.”

  “Keep your voice down!”

  “I’m not your dirty little secret. We were friends. We had a relationship. You can’t just ignore me and treat me as if I were trash.”

  “I’m sorry for how I treated you. But listen to yourself. Don’t you think you deserve to be the center of someone’s universe? Instead of chasing after someone who wants someone else?”

  She tore her eyes from his. “You always wanted other women. Even when I was pregnant. Why should now be any different?”

  He flinched. “Because you deserve to be with someone who wants you as much as you want him. It’s time to move on. It’s time to be happy.”

  “You make me happy,” she whispered. “You’re all I want.”

  “I’m in love with Julianne and I’m going to marry her.” He sounded determined.

  “I don’t believe you. You’ll come back. You always come back.” She wiped a few tears away with the back of her hand.

  “Not this time. In the past, I was weak and you held my guilt over me. But no more. We can’t see each other and we can’t speak. I’ve been patient with you and I’ve tried to help, but I’m done. As of today, your trust fund is frozen.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “I will. If you go back to Boston and begin seeing a therapist, I’ll see that you continue receiving support. But if you contact me again, or if you do anything to hurt Julianne, you’ll be cut off. Permanently.” He leaned forward menacingly. “And that includes doing anything to hurt her life as a student.”

  “You’d do that? You’d just throw me away? I’ve sacrificed my life for you. I lost my academic career!”

  Gabriel’s jaw clenched.

  “I never wanted you to do that. I did everything I could to help you stay at Harvard. You dropped out.”

  “Because of what happened to me. Because of what happened to us!”

  His hands fisted at his sides.

  “I don’t deny that I’ve behaved abominably and you have every reason to be angry. But my admission doesn’t change the fact that this has to end. Today.”

  He leveled his gaze on her and for a moment, he wore a look of compassion.

  “Good-bye, Paulina. Be well.”

  He moved toward the sliding doors.

  “You can’t. You won’t!”

  His face wore a look of steely resolve.

  “I already have.”

  Gabriel walked into the Manulife Building without a backward glance, leaving Paulina outside, crying, and standing in the snow.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  May 2010

  St. James the Apostle Cemetery

  West Roxbury, Massachusetts

  Gabriel stood in front of the stone angels, their twin forms positioned like sentries on either side of the memorial. The angels were made of marble, their skin white and perfect. They faced him, wings spread wide, with a name etched on the marker that sat between them.

  The monument reminded him of the memorials in Santa Croce, in Florence. The likeness was intentional, since this monument was crafted after his own design.

  As he regarded the angels, he thought back to his time in Italy, of his volunteer work with the Franciscans. Of his experience next to St. Francis’s crypt. Of his separation from Julianne.

  If only he could wait until July first, there would be the possibility of reunion. But Gabriel wasn’t sure that she’d forgive him. He wasn’t sure anyone would forgive him, but he had to try.

  He reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone, dialing a number from the contact list.

  “Gabriel?”

  He took a deep breath. “Paulina. I need to see you.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He turned his back on the monument, somehow unable to speak to her while staring at the name that was carved in stone.

  “I just need to see you for an hour, to talk. Can we meet tomorrow?”

  “I’m in Minnesota. What’s this about?”

  “I’ll fly to Minneapolis tonight. Can we meet?” He was insistent, his voice tense and thin.

  She sighed heavily. “Fine. Let’s meet at a Caribou Coffee tomorrow morning. I’ll email the address.”

  She paused, and Gabriel could hear her fidgeting in the background.

  “You’ve never flown across country to talk to me.”

  He clenched his teeth. “No, I haven’t.”

  “Our last conversation wasn’t exactly pleasant. You left me outside your building, crying.”

  “Paulina.” His tone was slightly pleading.

  “Then you cut off all contact.”

  Gabriel began to pace, the phone pressed tightly to his ear.

  “I did. And then what happened?”

  She was quiet for a moment.

  “I went home.”

  He stopped pacing.

  “You should have gone home years ago, and I should have encouraged you to do it.”

  Silence reverberated between them.

  “Paulina?”

  “This is going to hurt, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” he confessed. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  He ended the call and hung his head before returning to the grave of their child.

  Paulina was nervous. She’d been utterly humiliated during her confrontation with Gabriel in the lobby of the Manulife Building. Acutely aware of her dependence on prescription sleep aids and alcohol, along with her dependence on her trust fund, she did what she’d sworn she would never do. She went home.

  She found a job. She moved into a modest but nice apartment. Even more incredibly, she met someone. Someone kind and loving, who wanted her and only her. Someone who would never look at another woman for the length of their relationship, and possibly, beyond.

  Now Gabriel wanted to talk, in person.

  Paulina loved Gabriel. But she also feared him. He’d been elusive and unattainable, even when she was pregnant and they’d lived together. There was always a part of him that he would never let her touch. She knew it. She accepted it. But she never liked it and she always felt his distance hanging over her, like a dark cloud that might pour rain at any moment.

  In the aftermath of their final confrontation, she realized he would never love her. She’d thought that Gabriel was simply incapable of love. But when she heard him speak about Julianne, it became clear that he was capable of loving someone and being faithful. How tragic that the woman he was capable of loving was someone other than her.

  Once she accepted it, a degree of freedom accompanied the inevitable pain and longing. She was no longer a slave trying to win her master’s affection. She was no longer someone with limited aspirations, putting her future on hold in order to keep herself available for him.

  As she entered the Caribou Coffee shop, she felt strong for th
e first time in years. It would be difficult to see him but she’d made so much progress in other areas of her life, surely she could make progress in her relationship with him.

  She found him sitting at a table for two in the back of the shop, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee mug. He was wearing a jacket and a button-down shirt but no tie. His trousers were clean and pressed and his hair was tidy. He was wearing his glasses, which surprised her, since he only wore them while reading.

  When he saw her, he stood.

  “Can I buy you a coffee?” He offered her a restrained smile.

  “Yes, please.” She smiled in return but felt awkward. In the past he’d usually greeted her with a kiss, but now he maintained a polite, proper distance.

  “Still taking your coffee with skim milk and sweetener?”

  “That’s right.”

  He moved to the counter as she took the chair opposite his.

  As he waited for Paulina’s order to be filled, Gabriel scratched his chin. She looked different. She still moved like a ballerina, her spine straight and her limbs controlled. But her appearance had changed.

  Her long blond hair was pulled into a low ponytail, her beautiful features free of cosmetics. She looked fresh and young, and much of the hardness that was evident in her expression the last time he’d seen her was gone.

  Her clothes were different, too. She’d always dressed well, with a preference for skirts and high heels fashioned by the latest designer. But today, she was clad in a long-sleeved blue top that was casual and plain, and she wore dark jeans with sandals. It had been years since Gabriel had seen her in casual clothes. He wondered what it meant.

  He placed the drink in front of her and took his seat, his hands moving once again to wrap around his coffee mug. He focused on the black liquid, trying to figure out what to say.

  “You look tired.” Her blue eyes fixed on him with concern.

  Gabriel avoided her gaze, turning to look out the window. He wasn’t particularly interested in the Minneapolis scenery. He simply didn’t know how to begin.

  “We were friends once.” She sipped her coffee and followed the path of his eyes, watching the cars that drove past. “You look as if you could use a friend.”

  He turned his head, his eyes starkly blue behind the black frames of his glasses. “I’ve come to ask for your forgiveness.”

  Her eyes widened and she placed her mug down on the table quickly, so as not to spill it.

  “What?”

  He swallowed loudly. “I never treated you the way a friend or a lover should be treated. I was callous and selfish.” He sat back in his chair and looked out the window again. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I wanted to see you and say that I’m sorry.”

  Paulina tried unsuccessfully to pry her focus from his face and his clenched jaw, but she couldn’t. She was almost shaking, she was so surprised.

  He watched the traffic pass and waited, waiting for her to say something. But she didn’t. At last, he met her gaze.

  Her mouth was open, her eyes wide. Then she closed her mouth.

  “We were involved for years, Gabriel, and you never once said you were sorry. Why now?”

  He didn’t answer, just leveled his eyes, the muscle in his jaw the only movement in his face.

  “It’s because of her, isn’t it?”

  Gabriel said nothing. Facing Paulina was difficult enough. He couldn’t speak of what Julianne meant to him—of how much she’d changed him, and of how much he feared the possibility that she wouldn’t forgive him when he returned to her.

  He accepted Paulina’s censure without argument. In his current state, he craved punishment and disapproval, for he was all too conscious of his own sin.

  She watched his reaction, the emotions that moved across his face. He was in evident distress, something she’d not seen for some time.

  “I moved home,” she volunteered, quietly. “I enrolled in a treatment program and I’m going to meetings. I’ve even been seeing a counselor.”

  She looked at him carefully. “But you knew that, didn’t you? I’ve been sending reports to Carson’s secretary.”

  “I knew, yes.”

  “She changed you.”

  “Sorry?”

  “She’s changed you. She’s—tamed you.”

  “This isn’t about her.”

  “Oh, yes, it is. How long have we known each other? How long were we sleeping together? Never once did you ask me to forgive you for anything. Not even for—”

  He interrupted her quickly. “I should have. I tried to make up for things with money. By taking care of you.”

  Gabriel winced, even as he said the words. He was familiar, all too familiar, with the type of man who would act in such a way so as to cover up his sexual indiscretions.

  Paulina picked up her coffee mug once again. “Yes, you should have. But I was a fool to settle for what we were. I couldn’t see my way out of it. But now I can. And I swear to God, Gabriel, I’m not going back.”

  She pressed her lips together, as if she were trying not to say any more. Then, unexpectedly, she continued.

  “All these years, I was worried that my parents would slam the door in my face. I made sure that the taxi waited in the driveway while I rang the doorbell.” She looked down at the table. “I didn’t make it that far. I was trying to navigate through the snow in my high heels when the front door opened and my mother came outside. She was still in her slippers.” Paulina’s voice caught and her eyes welled up with tears. “She ran to me, Gabriel. She ran to me and wrapped her arms around me. I realized before I even entered the house that I could have come home years ago and she would have greeted me exactly the same way.”

  “The prodigal daughter,” Gabriel murmured.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can understand my desire for forgiveness.”

  She regarded him, his eyes, his expression. There was nothing about him that seemed insincere.

  “Yes,” she said slowly. “I’m just wondering why you’re asking for this now.”

  He retreated back into his chair, his hands clutching his mug.

  “You were my friend,” he whispered. “And look at how I treated you.”

  Paulina wiped at her eyes.

  Gabriel leaned forward.

  “And there’s Maia.”

  An involuntary cry escaped Paulina’s lips.

  She was like him, in this respect. The mention of their child’s name caused immediate anguish. When the name was used without warning, the pain was especially sharp.

  “I can’t talk about her.” Paulina closed her eyes.

  “She’s happy now.”

  “You know I don’t believe that. When you’re dead, you’re dead. You go to sleep and never wake up.”

  “I know that isn’t true.”

  At Gabriel’s tone, Paulina’s eyes snapped open. There was something in his eyes. Something he was trying to hide, but that he clung to with more conviction than she’d ever seen him manifest before.

  “I know I have no right to ask you. I know that I’m troubling you by being here.” He cleared his throat. “But I had to say these things in person. I wronged you. I was monstrous. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Now she was crying, tears slipping from her eyes and down her perfect face.

  “Stop.”

  “Paulina. We did this one, beautiful thing together. Let’s not mourn her by living empty, wasted lives.”

  “How dare you! You come to me to ease your conscience and say something like that!”

  Gabriel ground his teeth together.

  “I’m not here to ease my conscience. I’m here to make amends.”

  “My baby is dead and I can’t have another. Make amends for that.”

  He tensed. “I can’t.”

 
“You never loved me. I wasted my life on a man who merely tolerated me. And only because I was good in bed.”

  A muscle jumped in Gabriel’s jaw.

  “Paulina, you have many admirable qualities, not least of which are your intelligence, your generosity, and your sense of humor. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  She laughed mirthlessly. “In the end, it didn’t matter. No matter how smart I am, I was dumb enough to try to change you. I failed.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I moved on with my life and you come here to dredge it all up.”

  “That wasn’t my intent.”

  “But you did it just the same.” She wiped her eyes with her hands, shifting her body away from him. “You get to go home to your young, pretty girlfriend knowing that she could give you a child, if that’s what you want. Vasectomies are easily reversed, but what happened to me can never be undone.”

  Gabriel hung his head.

  “I’m sorry. For everything.”

  Reluctantly, he stood to his feet. He moved to walk past her, but she caught his hand.

  “Wait.”

  Gabriel looked down at her, his eyes wary.

  “I met someone. He’s a professor. He helped me get a job teaching English literature while I finish my PhD by extension.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I don’t need your money. I won’t be withdrawing from the trust fund again.

  “Keith is a widower with two little girls. One is seven and the other is five. Can you imagine? They call me Auntie Paulina. I get to dress them and do their hair and have tea parties with their dolls. I met someone who loves me. And his girls need me. So even though I can’t have a child, I’m still going to be a mother. Or at the very least, an auntie. I forgive you, Gabriel. But I won’t have this conversation again. I made my peace with the past, as much as I can.”

  “Agreed.”

  She gave him a genuine smile, and he brushed his lips against the top of her head.

  “Good-bye, Paulina. Be happy.”

  He released her hand and walked away.

  Chapter Forty

  August 2011

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

 

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