“I threw that game of beer pong just so you would take me on that date,” I finally admit. It’s been an ongoing joke between us that Gabriel knew I wanted him as soon as I walked through the door. He’s right. He was always right.
“I knew it!” His face shoots up in surprise.
I can feel the crinkle around my eyes from smiling. “Doesn’t matter, though, because we didn’t have to wait until that date.” I looked him right in the eyes. “We were so hot for each other we walked right out of that bar and almost didn’t make it out of the cab.”
Gabriel takes a final swig of his whiskey and lets out a deep grunt, stands up, and takes his wallet out to pay for the drinks. “It was the best day of my life. Please don’t ruin it.”
Still sitting at the bar, I continue, still caught in the memory. “The next day, he made me these terrible pancakes because he wanted to impress me. As much as he wanted to do something nice for me, I knew I would spend the rest of my life doing everything I could to make him happy. But you see, I failed him.”
Gabriel’s body is tense. He looks like he’s about to leave but stands there as I speak, his back half to me as he holds on to the back of the barstool he just rose from.
“When he proposed, he promised to share my dreams, but I never did the same for him. He took a job he was brilliant at yet secretly hated, all so he could provide an amazing life for me and his son. I took it for granted. I thought I wanted more, yet I had everything I wanted. I forgot to give him what he needed.”
“And what did he need?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Support,” I say.
Gabriel runs his hand down his face and holds his mouth for a second, as if trying to think of the right thing to say. He turns back toward me, placing both hands on the barstool. “Kat, it’s not all your fault. I know I’m not supposed to say this. My lawyer would kill me if he heard me say this, but I was a shitty husband. I wasn’t listening when you said you were unhappy and I certainly wasn’t as affectionate as I used to be. I just… I got so damn tired.”
He took his wallet off the bar and put it in his back pocket. “I am so damn tired, Kat. This is not what I pictured our life to be. I swear to you I planned it out differently. The truth is we both screwed this up. I drove you into his arms.”
I have to pull my mouth up from the floor. I wasn’t prepared for him to take the blame. I don’t know how I feel about that.
“And listen.” He continues. “As much as I still hate you for doing it, with Malory torturing you and Becca… Oh, that’s another story. Let’s just say you were right about that girl. She definitely thought I was sending her signals that weren’t there. Maybe I was. I can’t say I entirely blame you.”
“Gabriel, please. I hate myself so much right now I can’t bear the thought of you thinking this has anything to do with you being at fault.” I lower my head.
Running his hand through his hair, he says, “Listen, it’s late. I’m going to head up. Do you mind if I take Jack for the day? I miss him so much.”
I look up to see pain in his eyes. I shake my head in disagreement. He shifts back, but I clarify. “Why don’t you go home and spend the night in your bed? You’ll be there when Jackson wakes up. I’ll stay here.” I open my bag and take out my set of keys. I place them in his palm and close his fingers. “You should go and be with your son.”
Gabriel’s eyes relax, and I see a calming and almost appreciative tone in them. A hint of that Robert Redford grin I fell in love with makes an appearance. “Thank you,” he murmurs, handing me his room key.
He tells me his room number and to help myself to anything from room service. I have no choice but to watch as he turns on his heel and heads out through the lobby.
All dressed up and nowhere to go, Cinderella retires to her tower for the night.
I make my way up to Gabriel’s room and unlock the door. The room is spacious and elegantly decorated, yet it’s nowhere for a man to call home, even if it is only temporary. There is a large canopy bed in the middle made of rich mahogany with luscious cream-and-red paisley bedding. I stroll over to the mini bar and take out a bottle of water from the inventory.
The TV sits on a dresser in the corner, yet I have no desire to turn it on. I just let my beautiful husband walk out the door and I didn’t even put up a proper fight. In fact, I let him feel like shit about himself. Why didn’t I say something more? I should have told him about the night Jackson was born. How scared I was, yet he was right by my side, comforting me, encouraging me the entire time. And how, when we brought him home, I was so scared of being a new mom and he assured me we would learn to do this together. I never doubted how I’d be as a mom because Gabriel was by my side.
I should have told him about that time we backpacked through Europe and missed our train. We didn’t know whether we had to sleep in a hostel or in a car or in a park. I didn’t care because he was always ready with a plan and never faltered to protect us.
Or the night before our wedding when the DJ called with the flu and cancelled on us. He said it didn’t matter if there was silence because we had our entire lives to dance. All he wanted to do was marry me. I have a thousand stories I should have told him, but I didn’t.
My pity party is disrupted by a knock at the door. I place the bottle of water on the dresser and make my way toward the door. My heart melts seeing him standing in my doorway.
Gabriel’s right arm is stretched up against the doorframe. I can feel his weight swaying toward me as I open the door. He stands there, looking down at me with sheer determination.
“Did you forget something?” I ask.
“I met this girl once. She had this long brown hair and gorgeous green eyes, and she had the most incredible smile I’ve ever seen. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.” He takes a step toward me. So close we’re almost touching. “Tonight, I saw her again, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take her home just like I did then.”
No sooner is he finished with his sentence than his body crashes into mine. Two warm hands grab me by each side of my face as his mouth lands on mine. My lips immediately part and welcome him in. His tongue is hot and burning with desire. We are all mouths and tongues and hands and body heat. His strong, lean body presses up against me.
I let out a moan as his mouth moves from my lips and finds the nape of my neck. His wet tongue French kisses my skin. My body quivers. He raises his head briefly, and I get a good look at his face. Navy blue turns midnight in carnal lust.
Gabriel spins me around, forcing my hands to brace myself against the mahogany post of the four-poster bed. He moves my hair off my back until it’s cascading off my shoulder and down my front. Long, strong fingers move the spaghetti straps of my dress so they slip down my arm. His lips find my skin once more and kiss and lavish every nerve ending, sending shivers down my body. My body instinctually falls back into Gabriel.
His fingers glide the zipper of my dress down and gravity pulls it slowly to the floor. I’m left in nothing but white panties and a matching strapless bra.
Gabriel steps back, forcing me to turn around. “I want to hate you,” he murmurs under his breath.
I bite my lip at the sight of tears. Slowly, I approach him, gazing into his eyes. They are downshifted and away. I catch their attention with my own and bring him back to the moment. Holding up my right hand, I gently place it on his cheek. His eyes furrow as if he’s trying to fight it. Instead, he lays his head into my palm and closes his eyes, relishing my touch.
I lean up and place my other hand on his other cheek and place a soft kiss on his forehead and whisper, “I love you.”
I do the same, kissing his eyes. “I love you.”
His nose. “I love you.”
His cheek. “I love you.”
His temple. “I love you.”
His lips. “I love you.”
I lean back, and he opens his eyes. His heart caving in, Gabriel leans forward and wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me into hi
m, kissing me passionately, his animalistic need replaced with love and desire.
No words are said. Everything that needs to be told is done so through touches, glances, tickles, and kisses. We have a conversation without words. Mine are words of love and his are of acceptance. We make love three times before the sun comes up. He makes my ears burn red hot more times in one evening than I can count.
The rosy hues of the sun are coming up over the horizon when I finally curl on my side with my back against Gabriel’s chest. He drapes his arm around mine, playing with my hair before my eyes shut blissfully.
The sun is risen and cheerful. The heat pools through the window, yet I’m cold. I’m missing my very warm blanket. My Gabriel.
I roll over and place my hand onto the warm mattress. He must have just gotten up. I sit up in the bed and look around the room.
His clothes are missing from the floor, his wallet and watch nowhere to be seen. Did he leave? Would he leave after what transpired last night… and this morning?
Relief washes through me when the bathroom door opens and Gabriel exits, pulling a crewneck shirt over his chest. I blush thinking about the things I did to that chest last night. His chest, his thighs, his lips…
Gabriel sees me sitting in the middle of the bed and stops in his tracks. He looks hesitant, nervous even. What’s the matter with him? It feels like our first time all over again.
“Morning,” he states politely, moving to the chair in the corner of the room. He sits down and puts on a fresh pair of socks. He looks perplexed. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
He looks handsome in a white waffle-weave shirt and blue jeans. He steps into brown loafers and adjusts his watch. “I’m going to the house to get Jack. Thought maybe we’d go to the park for a few hours.” He glances out the window. “It looks like it’s going to rain, so I want to get out before the downpour begins.”
My heart nearly bounces out of my chest at the thought of Gabriel coming home. Wrapping the sheet around me, I start to make my way off the bed, surprised I have the need for modesty after ten years and last night’s extracurricular activities. “Give me a few minutes. I’ll just throw on…”
“No. You should stay,” he states, grabbing his wallet and keys off the dresser.
What’s going on here? For a man who just made love to me last night, he’s not acting like he should.
My feet stop moving. I turn around slowly. Gabriel is on the other side of the room, yet his soul feels like he’s miles away.
“Gabriel?” My voice is hesitant. Does he know what I’m asking? I look down at the sheet, afraid to see the answer in his eyes.
I hear him breathe and sense the resignation in his tone. “I don’t want you to go home with me, Kat.” His voice is steady and sure.
I bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling.
Breathe, Kat. Just breathe.
“You don’t want me?”
He doesn’t answer. I look up to meet his face, but he’s looking away. His brow is formed in a V, his lips mashed together.
“Answer me, Gabriel!” My voice is shaky yet commanding.
“No.” His eyes dart toward the door. “I don’t want you to go with me.”
“But why?” I cry. “After everything we shared last night, I thought we were fixed.”
His breathing is deep and steady, his attention still focused on the door. He’s trying to hold himself together. “I… I love you so much, Kat. More than you ever gave me credit for. Finding out what you did, that killed me. I lost a piece of my heart that I won’t ever get back.” He lifts a bag off the floor and walks to the door.
Everything happens in slow motion. It feels like it takes him hours to walk across the room and a decade to head out the door. I know I should say something. Begging comes to mind. I have no words. Defeated is the proper verb. Before I know it, he’s out the door, again.
With the sheets still wrapped around my shoulders, I fall to the ground. My forehead hits the bedpost.
Should I chase him?
What am I supposed to do now?
Nothing.
There’s nothing more I can do. I can’t chase him anymore. What we had is dead. I saw it in his eyes. He doesn’t want me anymore, and I destroyed the best thing I ever had.
In the most audacious walk of shame I’ve ever known, I step through the lobby of The Inn in my thousand-dollar gown and head to Gwen’s car to retrieve my gym bag. Gwen thought I should start going to the gym again to relieve stress. The bag has been sitting in her car for two weeks.
I ignore the stares and glares from the receptionist on my way out, but there was no avoiding them on my way in. Yes, I slept with a man last night in this hotel. If they only knew I was the adulteress having an affair with her own husband.
The “other man” was waiting for me at a hotel in the city, waiting for my answer. Oh, Asher, you were such a vital part of my life, and now I rue the day I met you. There are so many aspects of him I am drawn to, but he’s no good for me.
The man I love doesn’t love me anymore, and the man I lust for says he loves me. What does this mean? Is Gabriel leaving me this morning a cosmic sign that I am meant to be at the W Hotel right now starting my new life with Alexander Asher?
I strip out of the gown and change into my black yoga pants and matching zip-up and lace up my sneakers. I have to get out of here.
I walk out of The Inn and head toward the train station. I’m afraid if my nerves get the better of me, I’ll crash the car.
There’s no use in going home. I can’t face Gabriel right now, and Gwen will have to wait for her daily update on the drama that is my life. I’m going to ask her to stay with Jackson and me permanently. Turns out I need my mother after all.
She never did tell me what she would have done if my dad never passed away. Would she have started a new life with the other man? Is he who she was meant to be with? Did she only stay with my dad out of obligation?
Is that why I want Gabriel? Because we took a vow and I feel obligated to him? Is Asher the man I should really be with?
Mrs. Kathryn Asher. It has a really nice ring to it. We would be the Ashers. Our kids could have his bronze skin with my green eyes. I’ll even let them have his golden highlights. Jackson will love his new siblings. He’s so young; he’ll never know any other life.
How sad. He’ll never know a life when Gabriel and I were together. Tears pour down my cheeks, but I wipe them away. No, Asher and I will have a great life. We’ll spend the first two years naked and loving each other. The way we did in Miami.
Miami. Before that trip, I didn’t know how he felt about me. And I have feelings for him too. Otherwise, I would never have landed in his bed. And yesterday, he was so kind and considerate. He said he’d give me time. He knew I’d return.
The train comes to a stop at Penn Station, and I make my way to the restroom. I splash water on my face and apply mascara and a little lip-gloss. Despite my morning sobfest, I feel surprisingly rested.
Probably because for the first time in a long time, I know what I want.
I take the escalator up the terminal and exit onto Eighth Avenue. The sky is dark and cloudy. The wind picks up. I relish the heaviness of the air. It matches how I feel.
I make my way down Forty-Second Street and walk across town. With each block, the heaviness of my heart sinks deeper. Am I making the right decision?
Lexington Avenue is quiet, as it usually is on Saturday. The cars move steadily up and down the street. I see the building in front of me. I should move my feet, but I can’t. They feel like lead. A drop of water falls from the sky.
We met on a day just like this. Grey skies and wind. Another drop falls and I look up. Another falls and then another. Yes, we met on a day just like today. That was when my life changed forever. On the other side of the street is a man who wants me. And I want him.
If I could take it all back, would I?
I’m standing on a corner in the rain. How did I get here? How did
I come to this point in the road?
The rain starts to pour, the drops heavier. I don’t have an umbrella. I didn’t have an umbrella that day.
The corner is wet, my clothes are soaked, but I can’t move. I’m here to see him.
Asher gave me an umbrella. “So you never get caught in the rain again.” Yet, here I am. In the rain. Again.
Him.
Asher.
There he is, walking out the front door of the hotel. Right where he’s supposed to be.
He said he’d be here, and he is.
Through the parting umbrellas, I can see his face. Those golden eyes and chiseled chin striking against his broad shoulders and strong thighs.
That could all be mine.
He’s carrying an umbrella, shielding him from the rain.
The white pearl handle covered by his strong hands.
So in control. So dry.
He will take care of me.
He’s wearing grey. That’s the color. The color that defines my life.
He said it himself.
Nothing is black and white.
Just grey.
Gray.
I want to run, dash across the street and grab him. Hold him in my arms, feel his tongue in my mouth.
I want to caress him, feel his hand under my skirt. But my legs are lead. I cannot move.
He’s waiting for me. This is my moment.
But do I turn to him or run away?
Far away.
What do I do?
What would you do?
Who would you chose?
Warm rays hit the deck of the boat as I raise my head to bask in the glorious day. Resting my head on the cushion, I lean back and let the heat hit my face. You can only get this sunshine in the South.
The boat is docked, and we’re getting ready to depart. I don’t know a thing about boats. My family was all about baseball. It took me a while to adjust to my new lifestyle, but I couldn’t be happier.
Pure Abandon Page 30
