Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno Trilogy) (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-five

Florence, Italy

G
abriel smoked a lonely cigarette out on the terrace, staring at the shards of a broken water glass. He’d upset Julianne.

She’d seen him throw things before. He’d murdered her old cell phone when that motherfucker Simon called her.

Gabriel inhaled, drawing the air deep into his lungs before exhaling through his nostrils.

He did not think of their relationship as tempestuous. Although they’d had more conflict recently. They’d fought back in Selinsgrove over her paper. They’d fought in Umbria when he’d asked about her mother and she’d told him he was mindfucking her.

Tonight they’d descended to a new low when she accused him of thinking she was a bitch. Nothing was further from the truth. He couldn’t even place the word and her name in the same sentence.

But he’d lost his temper before he had the chance to say that.

His secrets were hurting her. He knew that. But he couldn’t unburden himself until he’d found a solution. He didn’t want to appear weak and undecided, or worse, to watch her compassion change into pity. He’d rather alienate her temporarily than lose her respect.

And he hadn’t found a way forward. Not yet. He was caught between two extremes, both of which were unacceptable. At the moment he lacked the courage or the wisdom to find a middle path.

He finished his cigarette and lit another one. Perhaps he lacked both courage and wisdom.

Julianne was correct. If they adopted a child, he’d have to quit. He’d quit cigarettes before, after his stint in rehab. He could quit again.

He thought about Tom and Diane. They’d gone from the elation of discovering they were expecting to the devastation of learning that their child had a life-threatening birth defect. He couldn’t imagine how powerless they felt. He’d had a glimpse of such impotence when Paulina—

Gabriel forced himself to focus on the cigarette he held between his fingers. He couldn’t allow his mind to wander down that road. Not tonight.

He gazed at the skyline of Florence, at the tower of the Palazzo Vecchio, waiting until he was sure Julia was asleep.

He visited the bathroom, brushing his teeth and dropping his clothes to the floor. He showered quickly, knowing that she’d smell the smoke on his skin.

Naked and with damp hair, he slid between the sheets. He didn’t touch her. A quick glimpse of the bed in the lamplight revealed that she was wearing a nightgown and curled on her side, facing away from him.

Message received, sweetheart.

As he settled into bed he thought, perhaps, that he heard a murmur of distress emanating from her direction.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

When she didn’t respond, he switched off the light and turned his back to her.

It only took a moment for Julia to shift so she was spooning him from behind.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“We promised we wouldn’t go to bed angry anymore.”

“I’m not angry, Gabriel, I’m hurt.”

He reached back to grasp her wrist and pulled her arm so that it draped over his waist. “You’re right about Maria. I just wanted to do something.

“I don’t think you’re a bitch. I’d never think of you that way. You’re my beloved.”

“Then I need you to be kind to me. I have to tell you, Gabriel, this past little while has been really difficult. I don’t want our marriage to be like this.”

His body tightened.

“I’ll find a way to make it up to you. I promise.”

“I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Tell me now.” Her tone was harsh.

“Please, Julianne,” he whispered. “I’m asking you, please, to give me a little more time.”

“So you can come to some momentous decision without me?”

“I wouldn’t do anything without talking to you first. But haven’t you ever been worried about something and tried to figure out how to deal with it? You can’t exactly make those decisions for me.” He shook his head. “I’m asking you, Julianne, to have a little compassion.”

She searched his eyes and found nothing insincere in them.

“I can give you a little more time. But I want you to call Dr. Townsend.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted.

“I won’t accept your refusal. Either tell me what’s troubling you, or tell him. But for both our sakes, Gabriel, tell someone.”

With a deep exhalation, he nodded.

Gabriel was awake before sunrise and quit the suite before Julianne awoke. Though it pained him to leave the warmth of her embrace, he was on a mission. The sooner he gathered the information he needed, the closer he would be to a solution.

(Or so he hoped.)

That afternoon, he had an important meeting scheduled with his old friend,
Dottore
Vitali, the director of the Uffizi Gallery. Now Gabriel was more determined than ever to show his wife how much he loved her. And to do so publicly.

As he exited the hotel, he reflected on the fact that he preferred Florence in the morning—the quiet of the streets before the city shook off its slumber.

He stopped at the café at the Gucci Museum in Piazza della Signoria and bought an espresso and a sweet roll. He enjoyed his breakfast outside, along with his newspaper,
La Nazione
, biding his time until he could call for Elena at the orphanage.

At ten o’clock, he rang the doorbell. Elena was surprised to see him and even more surprised when he revealed the reason for his visit.

She thanked him for his concern for Maria and suggested that if he wanted to help, he could assist in covering the costs for the therapist she was seeing in an effort to help her recover her speech.

When Gabriel raised the subject of adoption, Elena quickly explained that adopting a child in Italy could be difficult. Only married couples were permitted to adopt, and they must have been married for at least three years. Even if he and Julianne had decided to adopt Maria, the Italian government wouldn’t let them.

Gabriel left the orphanage duly chastened, but not without making a substantial donation to cover Maria’s expenses. He made it clear that Elena was to contact him if any needs arose.

Lost in thought, he wandered to a café at Santa Croce. Instead of watching the beautiful women walk by, he made a few phone calls, prevailing upon Florence’s finer families to consider supporting the orphanage through foster care or adoption.

Reactions were mixed. Everyone was willing to part with their money for charity, but not a single couple would agree to become foster parents. Adoption was absolutely out of the question.

Once again, Gabriel was confronted with the lavishness of grace as he contemplated all the reasons why Richard and Grace could have said no to adopting him, but didn’t.

Julianne awoke to an empty bed and a quiet hotel room. But Gabriel had left a glass of water on the nightstand, along with a note,

Darling,

I’ve gone to run errands.

I’ll be back in time to get ready for the exhibition opening tonight.

I love you,

And I like my body when it is with your body,

G.

On the back of the note, Gabriel had transcribed a poem by e. e. cummings: “i like my body when it is with your.”

Julia read and reread the poem, wondering what Gabriel’s errands were.

In truth, she felt guilty. Gabriel was correct—Maria needed a family to love and care for her. Julia could see why Gabriel was drawn to her.

As all the anxiety about graduate school and her career washed over her, she couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was being selfish by valuing her education over the welfare of a child.

Still, it didn’t seem right to take Maria from the only country she’d ever known and place her in a house with strangers. Especially since Julia didn’t know what Gabriel was troubled about.

Maybe he wants children right away and he’s gearing himself up to tell me so.

Julia entertained the thought but put it aside. Gabriel recognized her anxiety about grad school. He wasn’t going to add to it.

She’d worked so hard to get herself to this point. His remarks the evening before about “the Julianne he knew” had cut her deeply. She’d tried to be compassionate her whole life. Surely being a good person didn’t entail the abandonment of one’s dreams.

Much as she wanted to help Maria, she simply couldn’t agree to adopt her. Not now. Perhaps in two years when they were better acquainted with her, and Julia was in her fourth year of graduate school. The fourth year was devoted to preparing her dissertation prospectus and then writing her dissertation. Julia could simply work on her research and be a mother, at the same time.

(Or so she thought.)

Still, she worried about her husband—about what secret demons tormented him and why he was so determined to be secretive.

She lifted her iPhone from the nightstand and quickly sent him a text.

G,

I missed waking up with you this morning.

Thank you for your note and the poem.

Looking forward to the opening tonight.

I love you too,

J.

xo

Then, in an effort to exercise her compassion, she dressed and spent the day on her own quest—trying to find the homeless man she’d given money to during her first visit to Florence with Gabriel.

She searched the city center, but no one seemed to know the man she was referring to, and certainly none of the people she asked had seen a man answering his description.

While Julianne was burying her sorrows in a lemon gelato at Bar Perseo, Gabriel was finishing his meeting with
Dottore
Massimo Vitali at the Uffizi. He returned to the hotel to find an empty suite, but the scent of orange blossoms filled the air, remnants of her perfume.

He had happy memories of their first visit to Florence. There was a wall in the suite that he would have liked to enshrine. He thought back to the early days of their relationship and how he’d worked so hard to earn Julianne’s trust. He was seized of a sudden by a glimpse of what his life would be like without her—empty, naked, cold.

He had to deal with his problems head on, or the gap between them would grow ever wider until eventually, he lost her.

He picked up his phone and dialed the number for his therapist’s office. Then he left a long message.

After he’d hung up the phone, he opened his laptop and pulled up the Google search engine. He typed the following search phrase: “Owen Davies.”

A few hours later, Julia was standing in the bathroom, applying makeup, while Gabriel stood at the sink next to her, shaving. As her fingers stroked over part of her throat, she found herself wincing. She could no longer see where Simon had bitten her. But every time she touched the spot, she felt his teeth.

A gentle hand caressed the back of her neck. “He won’t hurt you again.”

She met Gabriel’s eyes in the mirror. “I wish I could believe that. Somehow I suspect he and Natalie aren’t finished with me.”

“They wouldn’t dare.” He kissed her forehead.

“How can you be so sure?”

Something flickered across his features, but it was eclipsed by his smile.

“Trust me.”

“I heard from my dad today.” She traced the marble topped vanity with her finger.