He dropped his glasses onto the desk and drilled the heels of his hands against his eyelids. Out of options, short of going to Gabriel and demanding her whereabouts, he had done the only thing left that he could think of.
He staked out her house.
From about four o'clock on, he had hidden in the shelter of a basement apartment stairwell catty-corner from the house and just watched. As night fell, the house remained dark, no lights coming on to indicate she was there already.
Gabriel returned home around seven, and then lights started coming on, in the living room and through the dining room window from the kitchen. Finally after a few minutes, the master bedroom light snapped on. Rogue saw the shadows of only one person moving around. He pulled his coat tighter against the deepening chill and continued to wait.
But she never came home. He waited until almost four a.m. before he finally gave up, frozen and exhausted, and went back to the hotel.
He'd had no choice but to come into the office. He needed to be near a phone in case the dance teacher called, and since his cell phone was now in tiny bits across a Soho alley, he had to be reachable at the office, the only other number the woman had for him. Telecommunications was replacing the cell phone, but it wouldn't be ready until the afternoon. So until then he was stuck here.
It took most of the morning before Gabriel came to gloat.
"Are you actually in the office for a full day?” Gabriel asked in mock astonishment.
"Probably not.” He didn't look up.
"Got something going on?"
"None of your bloody business."
"Hunh. Because I figured with Lindy out of town, you'd be at loose ends."
He stopped pretending to work. “What do you mean, out of town?"
"Oh, I put her on a plane to California this morning. She decided she needed to go visit her mother. I'm surprised she didn't tell you."
Rogue calmly put his pen down. “When did this happen?"
Gabriel remained standing, arms crossed over his chest, a look of cruel pleasure shining in his dark eyes. “Last night. I think she had a bad day yesterday. I came home and found her all curled up in a ball on the bed. She hadn't even taken off her coat. She must have been crying for hours. She looked like hell."
He could see in his mind's eye her broken, delicate body wrapped in the white cashmere coat in the middle of that big burgundy comforter, weeping like a child. One more black mark against his soul.
But he refused to let Gabriel see his pain. “I hope she has a good visit. From the sounds of things, she doesn't see her mum enough. Whereabouts in California does she live?"
"Some little bedroom town. Seaside? Oceanside? It's north of San Francisco. Or is that San Diego?” He shrugged. “I can never remember. California is like a foreign country to me. Can't keep all the geography straight."
Rogue seethed. He was absolutely certain Gabriel knew exactly where Lindy was, but he wasn't about to let anything slip.
"Well, thanks for the visit,” Rogue said insincerely. “But if you don't mind, I've got work..."
"Saw your ex-wife yesterday. Boy, she looks great. Single life really seems to agree with her. Did she come see you?"
And suddenly it all clicked into place.
Rogue rose up from the desk, fury roaring through his veins. “You did this!” He advanced on the larger man. “You brought Hope here, set this whole thing up."
Gabriel sneered. “Of course I did. What, did you think it was just a coincidence? You needed a lesson. I let you play with my toys and you show me no respect."
They paced around each other. “You don't deserve any respect, you buggering bastard."
"No? Face it, Rogue, you'll always be the lesser man. What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine. The sooner you remember that, the better off we're all going to be."
"So you set Hope loose on Lindy?"
Gabriel grinned. “Talk about a bonus. I brought Hope here for you, but when she found Lindy? Well, your girl does know how to improvise. Lindy got a much needed lesson in the error of her ways, you lost your groin buddy and I got to keep my hands completely clear of it. I doubt my dear wife will be stepping out of line again any time soon."
"While you step out with your whores."
"All women are whores. You just have to find the right price to get them to spread their legs."
"Lindy is not a whore."
"She fucked you, didn't she?"
Rogue backhanded him.
Gabriel turned back, wiping the blood from his lip. “What did she cost you, Rogue? Dinner? A few drinks? Secret promises you could never keep?” He caught Rogue's second punch and slammed his own fist into his gut.
Rogue doubled over, but shouldered into Gabriel's hip, missing his crotch by inches but still knocking the wind out of him.
The two of them backed off, fighting to catch their breath. “She hates you, you know.” He lashed out, catching Rogue's temple with a huge fist just as Rogue landed a blow to his jaw.
"That's your fault!"
"Is it? I'm not the one who lied to her. I'm not the one who used her."
They pounded on each other now, fists flying in time to their words.
"You're so full of shit! You use her more than I ever could."
"She's my wife. She belongs to me, and I can use her however I choose."
"You stupid sot! She doesn't belong to anyone but herself. And if you can't understand that, then you don't fucking deserve her!"
"But I've got her anyway, don't I?” A huge roundhouse punch knocked Rogue off his feet to crash to the floor on his back. “Give it up, Rogue. She's gone. And she's not coming back until I tell her you've gotten on a plane back to England. You might as well pack it in."
Before Rogue could reply, the door crashed open to reveal two security guards, a murder of employees clustered around behind to gawk at the spectacle. The guards braced themselves as Rogue slowly rose to his feet. The two combatants glared murderously at each other, both bloody and swollen and ready to continue. But the guards prevented it.
Gabriel finally turned to leave. Without looking back, he said, “Face it Rogue. You lost to me again. And you always will.” He pushed through the crowd, never looking back.
Rogue stared after him as the crowd dispersed, feeling the last threads of hope he held onto slip out of his hands. Finally he gathered up his coat and his few personal possessions and left the office, never to return.
* * * *
He felt like he had been knocking on doors for months. Years.
This one opened.
He looked her in the eye, his battered face showing every ounce of remorse and despair. “Someone pulled my weeds."
Diana just wrapped her arms around him and drew his broken soul into the apartment.
Chapter 38
Lindy sat on the back porch of her mother's house and stared up at the stars.
This had always been her refuge as a child, from the time they moved here after the divorce. When the world became too much, she would come and sit out here and stare up into the vastness of space and feel quiet, reminded that, while she was small, so was everything else.
The stars looked different in New York. There, even on the darkest night, only the brightest stars shone through the glow of manmade light that suffused the city, distracting the eye from the dimmer lights above. Last summer's blackout had been a revelation to her. She had stood out in the pitch black garden with a candle in her hand, gazing up into the velvety blackness, overwhelmed by the multitude of stars she'd never seen, never even imagined before. She had longed for a camera and the courage to go down into the canyons of Midtown and capture the starry bowl of night through the darkened shapes of the looming buildings. That something so beautiful could be found in an evening so frightening astounded her.
She knew there was a metaphor in there somewhere, but she didn't want to look at it.
It was a comfort to sleep in her own bed again. The green stripes in the wallpaper had
faded from neon to soft melon over time, and the bedspread and linens had been replaced, but nothing else had changed from the day she had moved out. “I have a guest room,” her mother insisted. “What do I need two for? This is your room, Lindy. If you want it to change, change it yourself. I like it."
She and Gabriel had never shared this bed. When they came to visit, they always stayed in a hotel. So she could crawl into her bed now and pretend that she was Lindy James, cheerleader and Lindy James, homecoming princess and Lindy James, class artist. She could ignore for a while all the stupid choices she had made that brought her back here, looking for escape and solace.
It was Thursday. He was due to leave tomorrow night. She knew he was looking for her. Gabriel had complained about it when she had talked to him last night. “He hasn't been in the office in two days,” Gabriel griped. “Totally missed the final presentation. And when he does show up, he looks like he hasn't slept in a week. I don't know what his problem is."
She did.
She couldn't believe she had been so stupid. How he must have exulted when she threw herself at him that first day. He hadn't even needed to work to get in her pants. Just a wink and a come hither look and she was ready to throw everything over for him. Gabriel hadn't said anything about her infidelity. She wondered what Mi ... Rogue was waiting for.
Rogue. The name made her stomach roil. The name of the man he was. Michael was a fiction perpetrated against her to get what he wanted from her. He didn't really exist, and she had to remember that. For her sanity's sake.
She didn't even know what to think about Gabriel. If she accepted what that woman, Hope, had said about Rogue, then she couldn't deny that Gabriel had been untrue to her without being a hypocrite. But that had been two years ago. He had stayed with her. And now she had no right to be indignant. Not when she kept looking for the invisible red A on her own clothes. They were on the same foot, both adulterers. But he had come back, tried to make the marriage work. She owed it to him to try to do the same.
"Here."
She looked up to see her mother offering her a cobalt mug that steamed fragrantly in the cool night air. She took it gratefully, the warm ceramic a comfort in her empty hands. She inhaled deeply, then looked back at her mother in surprise. “Mulled wine?"
"You're a grown-up now,” Grace said, sitting next to her on the step with her own mug. “Besides, this didn't strike me as a hot chocolate problem."
Remembering the last time she'd had hot cocoa, Lindy couldn't agree more.
"You know, this wouldn't be the first time a man has done a number on the woman he loves."
Lindy looked at Grace, startled. What did she know? Then she realized Grace was taking a shot in the dark. “It's not Gabriel, Mom."
"Oh. Since you didn't want to be in New York, I assumed..."
"It's not Gabriel,” she repeated. “I just ... I couldn't be there right now.” She took a sip of the wine, letting the warmth and alcohol burn down her throat, savoring the sensation for a long moment. “Did you ever do anything you were ashamed of? So ashamed you couldn't look at yourself in the mirror afterwards without feeling sick?"
"Of course I have, honey. We all have. It's part of being human."
"Well, I don't feel very human. I cheated on Gabriel, Mom. I let myself get seduced by someone who hates him.” She laughed derisively. “Let. God, I went running after him. I couldn't stay away.” She dropped her head, not able to look into her mother's face. “You must be so disappointed in me."
Grace's warm arms wrapped around Lindy, drawing her into a comforting embrace. “Oh baby, no. You want me to tell you what you did was foolish? You don't need me to tell you that. That's why you've barely spoken in two days. Did you end it? With this other man, I mean."
Lindy just nodded.
"Alright then. You put it behind you and you go on. But you learn from it."
"I'm not ever going to cheat again, I swear."
"That's not what I mean.” Grace lifted Lindy's chin to look into her eyes. “When I found out your father was cheating on me, I was furious, and hurt, and confused. But later when I stopped to think about it, I realized that even before that, I really didn't like him touching me. I didn't like him all that much. Some people cheat because it's in their nature. But that's not you, Lindy. So you have to ask yourself, what was missing in your own life that this other man provided?"
"God, Mom, I can't even stand to think about him."
"That's understandable. But you will. Just think about what I said. I only want to see you happy."
"I don't deserve to be happy."
"Of course you do, Lindy. We all deserve to be happy. We just have to be willing to accept it."
I just want you to be happy. Rogue's words came back to her. So if that means letting you go back to your husband, then I will, gladly. But if you aren't, then I want you to know that there is another option. You don't have to be miserable.
She looked at her mother sadly. “But what if the thing that makes me happy never really existed?"
"Then you keep looking.” Grace stroked her hair with a comforting smile. “Look at me. I got a bad egg, but I'm still trying. And in the meantime, I find a lot of joy in other things. Like the gallery. And you. There's a lot of joy in the world if you just look for it. You can't give up, Lindy. You can't ever give up."
She curled into her mother's shoulder with a wistful sigh. “It's just so hard sometimes."
"Nothing worth having comes easy.” She gave her one last squeeze, then stood up. “Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"I was treating this with the wrong medication. This isn't an alcohol problem; this is an ice cream problem. Let's go get fat."
Lindy chuckled in spite of herself. “With hot fudge and whipped cream?"
Grace agreed. “We'll eat until we're sick. That'll make us forget about all our problems."
Lindy had to agree. She'd take a stomachache over heartache any day.
Chapter 39
November in New York was cold and empty.
It was raining when Lindy got off the plane at LaGuardia, a bitter cold, soaking rain that blew in all directions, foiling all her attempts to stay dry.
It continued to rain steadily the whole month.
Lindy tried to go back to the life she had led in September. But shopping and lunch with the girls and spa days at Elizabeth Arden didn't bring her the same pleasure, if indeed it ever had. It didn't help that she had to keep squelching thoughts of him, how he might laugh at some story, whether he'd like some outfit, if he'd want to see some movie. She wanted to forget him, but he was so infused into her mind now that he seemed to have always been in her life. Her childhood, her schooling, her whole life had his presence imprinted on it. How do you forget someone that's tied into every part of you?
Kathleen called several times, but Lindy avoided her calls. How could she explain that Kath had been right, that Lindy had let her heart get involved and had had it destroyed? She should have listened to her worldlier friend. Maybe if she had, she wouldn't hurt so much now.
Gabriel took her to Barbados for ten days over Thanksgiving week. They participated in activities she had no interest in and dined every night on rich foods that she pushed aimlessly around her plate. And he made love to her every night. She felt suffocated, crushed under the weight of his massive body, but she did her best to respond how he expected and to please him in return. She thought of her mother's words. Lindy realized that she didn't like Gabriel's touch anymore.
She went back to Pearl to dance several times, looking to reclaim the power she had felt up on that stage. After the third time, Eve forbade her from coming again. “You aren't going to find what you're lookin’ for here, Lin,” she had said, her arms comforting around Lindy's collapsed and sobbing form in the dressing room. “This isn't you. You've gotta find peace in your own world."
Grace came to stay with them over Christmas. Lindy put her up at the Waldorf instead of the Plaza like she usua
lly did. Gabriel didn't like to have guests in the house. They interrupted his routine. Lindy had a happy few weeks, visiting museums and shopping with her mother. In Grace's presence, she could make new memories that had nothing to do with him.
But January came and Grace went, and Lindy was left on her own again. With the new year, Gabriel became immersed in the corporate machinations that preceded tax season, and so he was rarely home except to sleep. He was usually too tired even to demand his marital rights, for which Lindy was grateful.
So she turned back to the one thing that was truly hers.
Her art.
The first time she went back to the studio, she almost couldn't open the door. The memories assaulted her as soon as she went in, the air still holding a hint of his cologne. But she opened all the windows and the door and let the bitter cold January air wash the scent of him out of the room. Then she rearranged all the furniture and changed the linens on the small bed.
Finally she thought she was ready to take on the canvasses.
She spread out the stack of frames, standing them up to lean against the back of the sofa. Two large horizontals, one vertical and a four-by-five foot portrait. All him, yet all different.
She couldn't bring herself to look at them directly. Instead, her eyes circled around, tracing the edges of the frames, slowly spiraling in until she couldn't avoid him anymore.
Her breath stopped as she took in the sight of him, softly sleeping, beautiful and peaceful. Her eyes devoured him hungrily, and suddenly she could smell him, all musk and faded smoke, taste the salty tang of his damp skin, hear his soft groans of pleasure, feel him thrusting up along the tight muscles of her inner thighs.
She sank to her knees, the sensations overwhelming, sobs and screams fighting for dominance in her throat until all she could get out were primal wails of suffering. She still wanted him. Her body craved him. The thought of him ever touching her again made her stomach churn. She hated him more than anything ever in her life.
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