He looked after her retreating sister. “She’s all right?”
“She will be. She’s stronger than she looks.”
Gabe sat where Carlie had been and examined his knuckles. Bloody and bruised skin marred the tops of both of his fists. “That’s going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow.”
Rachael scoffed. “I’m hoping Brent’s face will hurt worse.”
He nodded, reaching to touch her chin, tipping it up so he could see her eye better. “And a few other places. That son of a bitch deserved that and a lot more.”
“He hurt my sister.”
“He hurt you,” he said furiously.
They sat silently.
“Gabe, the flowers . . .”
“Too much?”
“Too much. Much, much too much. It can’t be like that with us.”
He looked down at his hands again and flexed his fists. “I have never loved someone like this before. I don’t know how to stop. How to go back to being friends.”
Rachael took one of his large hands and gently pressed her bag of ice to the knuckles, wishing she could hold it to his heart and make that feel better.
“This is my fault, Gabe. I shouldn’t have kissed you, encouraged you. I thought we could be physical again and let it go like the first time. I didn’t think . . .” she trailed off, knowing there was no appropriate way to end that.
“The first time I didn’t know you. The last time . . .” He cleared his throat. “That last time I did. I know you now, Rachael. You are beautiful and strong. Independent and hellfire, but soft. Smart and funny. Passionate. You are everything I want in a woman. In a partner. Jesus, in a wife. You are the one for me. I love you.”
Gasping at his pain, she wrapped her arms around him. “I am so, so sorry. But I can’t love you like that.”
“Rachael—”
“No, please stop,” she begged, a tear sliding down her face. “I can’t listen to this anymore. It hurts too much. It hurts you too much. Please, Gabe. I can’t bear it.”
“I have to say it. I have to know I tried everything. I can’t regret this for the rest of my life.”
“Please don’t,” she pleaded, shaking her head.
He got down on a knee and looked up at her swollen face. His battered hands held hers. “I love you, Rachael. I will do everything I can to give you everything you want in life. I will be faithful to you. I’ll support you, your family. Travel. Cars. Children. You name it. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The pain ripping her apart was an unbearable torment. “It is a beautiful dream, Gabe. A beautiful fantasy. But it can’t be. If you love me . . .” Rachael paused, trying to say the words. “I need you to love me enough to walk away. I am in love with Rick. Completely. Irrevocably.”
He watched her, the agony scarring her soul.
“In another life, in another time . . . In another world, this—you and me—this would be everything I could ever wish for, dream of. Your words, your beauty, your passion. You. You are wonderful and I don’t deserve you. You deserve someone who loves you the way you love them. And that can’t be me.” She closed her eyes, unable to look at him anymore. “That can’t be me, Gabe.”
“Love, please.” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do this.”
“I can’t give you what you want, what you’re asking.” Her chin trembled in his grasp. She loved him, but she would never be able to love him the way she loved Rick. There was no comparison. Yet knowing that didn’t make this ending any easier to bear. It didn’t lessen the pain or take away the brief history they had shared.
Two solitary tears slid down his cheeks and she wiped them away, fighting to keep her own tears at bay.
“Go now, please,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. I wish nothing but the best for you.”
Gabe stood and wiped his face, leaving a line of red across his cheek. “I’ll always be here. If you change your mind.”
She shook her head, knowing what she had to do. Rachael met his eyes and remained firm, even as it broke her. “I won’t. I can’t leave that door open.”
He swallowed and looked away, nodding to himself. “Then this is goodbye.”
“I will always be grateful that you were here for me. Thank you, Gabe. Thank you for being my best friend when I needed one. Thank you for everything.”
He reached for her and stopped, seeing the end in her eyes. One last time, he caressed her with his gaze. Then he turned and left, walking out of her life for what she knew would be the last time. It had to be.
She had lost a small, but important, piece of herself forever. It needed to be done. But she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t stop herself from praying for a wall, a barrier, something to isolate the hurt and barrenness. At last, letting the tears fall, she sobbed silently, mourning one lost future, one lost dream, until sleep finally claimed her.
With the morning sun came a calming sense of self-awareness. The loss would always remain with her, but it was a punishment she could acknowledge she deserved. It was of her own making.
Perspective was dawning on her. Here she sat in mourning while her little sister dealt with a much larger blow to her heart, her life. Rachael crept up the stairs to find Carlie sleeping soundly on the guestroom bed, the pale morning light slanting through the slats in the blinds. She didn’t budge as Rachael crawled onto the mattress next to her, closing her puffy eyes to try to catch a little more sleep.
It was time to pull herself together. She still had her family. And she hoped she still had Rick.
39
The Fourth of July usually brought explosions of color. This was just the first year they had shown up on her face.
“Fuuuuck,” Rachael groaned, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “What is it about this eye that begs to be attacked?”
“It’s not that bad,” Carlie said absently from the couch, flipping through a copy of Rewired.
Rachael glared at her.
“At least it won’t be that noticeable in the dark?”
“Silver lining,” she mumbled and sat next to Carlie. “How are you doing?”
Carlie sighed heavily. “I don’t know. I feel kind of blank,” she cast a quick glance at her sister, “and guilty. I am so sorry, Rach.”
“Carlie, you are not responsible for his actions. Not anymore.”
“I know. But your eye.” She cringed. “It’s awful.”
Rachael laughed. “So much for ‘It’s not that bad.’”
“Sorry,” Carlie said with a not-so-sorry shrug. “So, um, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“With what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The two million roses? The man on the porch last night? Rick? Take your pick.”
Rachael checked her phone; still no messages. Damn.
“The roses were from Gabe.”
Carlie nodded and spun her fingers for her to continue.
“And obviously that was Gabe last night. He took care of Brent.”
“Meaning?”
“I suspect he looks far worse than I do this morning.”
She accepted this with a grim nod. “Fair enough. What happened after I left?”
Closing her eyes, Rachael took a deep breath and counted to ten before slowly letting it out.
“That bad?” Carlie asked softly.
Rachael nodded. She thought she had cried enough, but fresh tears began to fall.
“Oh, Rach. What happened?”
Brushing the wetness away, she tried to think of how to say it. She finally threw her hands up and let them fall back to the chair at her sides. “I thought I could make it all work. That we could still be friends.”
Carlie caught her hand. “And you can’t?”
“No.”
“Maybe with time.”
“Carlie, no. He practically proposed to me.”
Carlie’s eyes grew wide and she sucked in her breath.
; “I know, right?”
They both leaned back into the cushions, thinking and absorbing.
“What now?” Carlie asked, squeezing Rachael’s hand.
“I don’t know.”
“Gabe?”
She shook her head. “Done. For good this time.”
“What about the contract?” Carlie asked.
Rachael stared blankly for a minute, then shook her head. “I’ll have Mom reassign someone else to McAllister. It would be best for all involved.”
Carlie nodded slowly, calculating the risk and reward of such a move. “You’re probably right. Sorry, Rach.”
Rachael shrugged it off, the job component of their relationship being curiously the least of her worries. Diving into unfamiliar territory, she’d have to play it by ear as best she could.
“And Rick?”
Rachael glanced at her phone again. “I haven’t heard from him since he walked out last night after seeing the flowers.”
“Nothing?”
“Nada.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
Carlie rolled her head to the side to look at Rachael. “Want to come with me? To get the keys to my new place?”
Rachael smiled with relief. “Very much so. I need to get out of here.”
“Come on,” she said, dragging Rachael to her feet. She turned them toward the kitchen. “Let’s grab a bottle to christen my new bachelorette pad.”
Collecting their things, then hopping into Rachael’s black car, they drove the half mile or so to Carlie’s new place. The interior had been painted recently and still bore the heavy scent of chemicals from a deep cleaning. The private entrance opened into a foyer with a roomy kitchen to the right and a short hall straight ahead to a generous-sized living room with large windows. A bedroom and large bath veered off to the left.
After a quick tour of the airy one-bedroom apartment, they sat on the hardwood floor of the living room and passed the wine bottle back and forth.
“Sorry, I didn’t think to grab glasses,” Rachael mumbled. “Or a bottle opener.”
Carlie held the bottle eye level, and shrugged. “At least it was a twist-off. We could have had a real emergency.”
“When do the movers get here?”
She checked her phone. “Less than an hour.”
“I like this. It’s nice, Car. Once you get your furniture and,” she patted the floor beneath her tush, “maybe a few area rugs, it’s going to be amazing. And I love that you’re close to Mom and Dad.”
Carlie handed the bottle back to Rachael, who took a long drink of the cool white wine. “Wonder what Rick’s doing. Why isn’t he calling me?”
“You could always call him,” Carlie said, reaching for the bottle. “It’s not like it’s the 1950s. He might even be waiting to hear from you.”
It was hard to know what the right thing to do was sometimes.
Compromise. Rachael grabbed her phone and typed out a text.
“What did you say?” Carlie asked, wiping the mouth of the bottle and handing it back to Rachael.
“Told him I was over here with you.”
“That’s it?”
“What else should I say?”
“Oh, I don’t know . . . how about I love you?” She rolled her eyes and flopped back on the floor.
Rachael’s phone vibrated and Carlie snagged it from between them. “Well, that’s lame. But it’s a start.” She tossed the phone to Rachael.
Still on for the cookout?
Rachael frowned. Definitely not a declaration of love or intent, but at least he wasn’t avoiding her. That was an improvement over last time.
“What do you think? Still game for a cookout at Mom and Dad’s?” Rachael asked.
Carlie shrugged. “Sure, as long as you help me get my room ready before we leave here.”
“Deal.” Rachael started to type a message, then deleted it, thinking about her sister’s comment.
If you’re coming, then yes. Miss you.
What time, he messaged back immediately.
“What time do you think we’ll be done here?”
“Dunno. Maybe three?”
Around 5?
I look forward to seeing you then.
He was being so formal. She didn’t know how to take it. “Am I making as much of a mess of things as I feel like I am?”
Carlie lolled her head toward Rachael from her sprawled-out position on the wood floor and grasped the neck of the bottle. “Gimme a minute to think about that question.” She grinned. “No. In fact, I’d say you’re handling your shit pretty well, considering you’ve had a proposal to live together, a marriage proposal, and a black eye all within the last day or so. From three different men.” She took a long drink, eyeing Rachael over it, before sliding the bottle back to her.
“Technically, Gabe didn’t propose,” Rachael said, rolling the half-empty wine bottle back and forth between her hands. “At least I don’t think he did. There wasn’t a ring.”
“Then it doesn’t count. A ring is a must.”
“Since when? I know plenty of people who got engaged, then they went to pick out a ring together.”
“No ring, no proposal. That’s the law.”
Rachael laughed at her sister’s hard line in the matrimonial sand. “You’re so old-fashioned, CarCar.”
“Nope, just a romantic at heart,” she said with a sigh. “That was part of the problem. I disappointed myself over and over by imagining all the incredible ways he could sweep me away. But he never did. I kept hoping Brent would turn out to be that romantic knight in shining armor. Surprise me one day with a candlelit dinner and propose. He could be romantic when he wanted to. But it had been a long freaking time since he showed it.”
How often we set ourselves up for disappointment, wishing for the improbable outcomes. Rachael knew that was part of the reason she walled herself off from dating; it was too frustrating to discover their motives were never about her. “Is it really over, Car?”
“I can’t trust him again after that. How could I? And I know things were different since we moved in together, but I chalked it up to work and being busy with everything. Life. Now every time I close my eyes I see them together. Gina wrapped around him as he . . . God. I can’t believe how stupid I am. I wonder how long it’s been going on?”
Rachael slid the cool bottle back to her. “You need this more than I do.”
Accepting the bottle, Carlie closed her eyes and spoke aloud. “I keep thinking about Kim. How many times she’s gone back to Owen. How can she do that? This is killing me.”
“I don’t know.” And she truly didn’t. She stretched across the space between them and chucked her sister on the chin. “But, Car, it will get better. For what it’s worth, I think you’re making the right decision.”
“I’m so done with men. I can’t go through this again.”
“Turning to women?” Rachael joked.
“Why not?”
She looked at Carlie. “Seriously? Not that I’d mind, but that seems a little unlike you.”
Carlie shook her head and giggled. “Alas, no. But could you imagine what Brent would do?”
“He’d probably be turned on. Maybe he and Gina can work something out with you.”
She groaned. “Please. Gag. They can have each other.” She sat up and looked around the space. “Let’s figure out where everything is going to go. The movers should be here soon.”
40
The crew arrived on time, and after the whirlwind of the delivery, the sisters got to work. Carlie asked approximately three million questions about Rick, and Rachael tried not to gush too much. It was hard not to.
“Here, put this one on top,” Carlie said, handing her a soft quilt as they finished up the bedroom.
“Wasn’t this mine?” Rachael asked.
“Was it?” Car asked innocently, a light blush staining her cheeks.
“Thief,” she muttered, spreading the blanket on top of Carlie’s bed. �
��You know there are devil horns under that halo of yours.”
Carlie giggled and slid the stuffed dresser drawers closed.
Rachael glanced around the bedroom. Still not decorated, but it was good enough for now. “What else do we need to do?”
“A few things in the kitchen. If you can help me locate my Keurig. And a coffee mug. And maybe a water glass. And a bowl and some spoons.” She shrugged helplessly. “Guess I should unpack all the kitchen boxes.”
Rachael laughed and led the way to the kitchen. “Let’s do it.”
After they broke down the last empty box in the kitchen, they headed to the front door.
“Ready to go?” Rachael asked.
“You go ahead. I want to shower and feel a little more human before I come over.”
“Okie dokie. See you in a few.”
Rachael left and climbed into her car. As she pulled away from Carlie’s place, she made a mental list of what they needed for the cookout. She rolled the windows down and let the wind blow through her hair.
What a crazy couple of days. She thought about Gabe and Rick. The unbelievable highs and lows, the emotional turmoil. Her heart clenched as she again thought of never seeing Gabe again, but it was countered and then some by the unexpected joy she’d found with Rick. She knew she could trust Rick. He would never destroy her like Brent had Carlie.
Carlie. She couldn’t imagine how her sister must be feeling. To walk in on your life partner screwing your friend? Good God. It was enough to make her want to scream. Then all the apartments and houses. The proposals. The black eyes.
Black eyes! SHIT.
Once she parked at the grocery, she examined her puffy, colorful eye in the mirror. Maybe with some large sunglasses? Rachael pulled on her shades and loosened her hair, tugging some over the edges of her glasses. She could only groan and laugh at her reflection; she looked like she was trying out for a role in a bad made-for-TV movie.
Walking through the aisles, she pushed the shopping cart and listened to the squeaky wheels rolling over the linoleum and the bits of gossip that hovered in every supermarket.
Animal Attraction Page 24
