Sylvain Reynard

to mention the fact that something troublesome had happened to

her at Kinfolks restaurant that afternoon.

Being turned down made him crave her all the more. The scent

of her hair, the feel of her satin skin under his fingertips, the way she closed her eyes tightly just before she came, the sensation of her moving underneath him, with him…

He needed to make love to her to know that it was all right — that they were all right.

Yes, sex was his apple a day, and he needed it. He needed to show

her not with words but with actions that he loved her, worshipped

her, would do anything for her. He needed to know that she stil

wanted him, to hear her whisper his name.

But she didn’t seem to need him. Certainly, she didn’t want him.

Not tonight.

Gabriel’s depressed musings continued until she joined him in

bed. She rested on her side, watching him, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He simply turned off the lamp on the bedside table.

In the darkness, they were both silent as a cold and invisible

barrier sat between them.

“Gabriel?”

“Yes?”

“I need to explain something to you.”

He exhaled slowly, expelling all the air from his lungs. “I under-

stand, Julianne. Good night.” He tried to keep the strain out of his voice but failed, miserably. He rolled away from her.

Julia winced. Now the invisible barrier seemed more like a high,

impenetrable wall.

Men have such fragile, eggshell egos.

She wanted to explain things to him and bring everything out

into the open, but if he was going to be so easily offended, then she would wait until morning. Or later. Julia rolled over and shut her eyes, determined to forget the whole miserable day. She tried to suppress her sniffles, hoping that she could hold the hormonal tears back. The last thing she wanted was for him to catch her crying.

Boys are dumb.

She sniffled for a few minutes, then Gabriel was spooning behind

her, pressing his naked chest to her back.

90

Gabriel’s Rapture

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She nodded, still sniffling.

“Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.”

“I didn’t mean to be an ass.” He propped himself up on his elbow.

“Look at me.”

He gave her a repentant smile. “I’ve been spoiled with all the

times we’ve made love over the past two weeks. But I know that there will be days when you’re tired or you don’t feel like it. I promise not to sulk — too much.”

She smiled wryly and reached up to kiss his pouty lower lip.

He wiped her eyes. “Will you tell me why you were crying this

afternoon at the restaurant?”

Julia shook her head.

“Please?”

“I’m too tired.”

He nuzzled her until her body relaxed in his arms. “What can

I do?”

“I don’t need anything.”

“A hot bath? A massage?” The look on his face was one of a little

boy, eager to please. “Let me touch you. I’ll make you feel better.”

“Gabriel, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“I wanted to do something for you.”

“Just hug me.”

“I’d gladly do that anyway.” He kissed her once more before

spooning behind her.

“Merry Christmas, Gabriel.”

“Merry Christmas.”

P

A few hours earlier, a lone woman stepped into a taxi outside

the Comfort Inn. She was crying.

The cabbie politely ignored her tears and turned the radio up,

hoping to give her some privacy on their long drive to Harrisburg.

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Sylvain Reynard

The song that was playing was catchy, so catchy in fact that they both found themselves humming.

As she hummed she thought of the parcel she’d given to the

hotel’s night manager, Will. She’d given him five crisp twenty-dollar bills in exchange for his promise to deliver said package to a particular address in Selinsgrove by nine o’clock the following morning.

Christmas morning.

When he’d revealed (in typical small-town fashion) that he was

acquainted with that address, having been a high school classmate

of Gabriel’s brother, Scott, the woman casually pressed him for information about Gabriel’s new girlfriend.

Will responded enthusiastically, since his family had known Tom

Mitchell and his daughter for years. In fact, Will reported, Tom had recently bragged that Julia was excelling in her graduate studies at the University of Toronto.

As soon as the woman learned this surprising fact, she decided

to check out of the hotel and leave Selinsgrove. As she watched the snow-tipped trees pass by the cab’s windows, she wondered how

she could discover if Julianne was a student of Gabriel’s when they began their affair.

92

Chapter 10

Very early Christmas morning, Gabriel sat in his boxer shorts and

glasses, debating whether or not to wake Julianne. He could

have returned to the light of the living room of their suite, where he’d played Santa Claus only an hour before. But he preferred to be near her, even in the dark.

Richard’s conversation with him from the day before plagued

his mind. His adoptive father had asked about Paulina, and he’d said about as much on the topic as he dared, emphasizing that Paulina

was his past and Julia his future. Richard, who was a compassionate man, encouraged his son to make professional counseling a necessary condition for Paulina’s continued access to her trust fund, pointing out that she clearly needed help.

Once Gabriel agreed, Richard smoothly changed the subject to

Julia, asking if he was in love with her. Gabriel replied unequivocally in the affirmative, to which Richard responded by bring up the R-word, responsibility.

“I am taking responsibility for her.”

“She’s still a student. What if she gets pregnant?”

Gabriel’s expression hardened. “That won’t happen.”

Richard smiled. “I thought that once. Then we had Scott.”

“I’ve already demonstrated that I more than take care of my

responsibilities.” Gabriel’s voice was glacial.

His adoptive father sat back in his chair, tenting his fingers

reflectively.

“Julia is like Grace in several ways — not least of which is her

willingness to sacrifice herself for those she loves.”

Sylvain Reynard

“I won’t allow her to sacrifice her dreams for me, you can be

assured of that.”

Richard’s eyes flickered over to the picture of his wife that he

always kept on his desk, a laughing, smiling woman with kind eyes.

“How did Julia react to Paulina’s visit?”

“I haven’t discussed it with her.”

“If you abandon Julia, you will have a serious problem with your

siblings, as well as with me.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows knit together like thunderous clouds. “I would

never abandon her. And I won’t live without her.”

“Then why don’t you tell her that?”

“Because we’ve only been together for two weeks.”

Richard raised his eyebrows in surprise, but elected not to in-

terrogate his son over the semantic ambiguity of the phrase “being together.”

“You know my views on this. You should marry her. At the mo-

ment, you appear to be with her under false pretenses; your actions indicate that she is only a partner in a sexual affair, when your intentions are serious.”

Gabriel bristled at the characterization. “Julianne is not my

mistress.”

“You won’t make a commitment to her.”

“I am committed to her. There’s no one else.”

“But Paulina appears, looking for you and making a spectacle in

front of Julia and your family.”

“I can’t help that,” Gabriel snapped.

“Can’t you?” Richard pursed his lips together. “It’s difficult for me to believe that a woman as intelligent as Paulina would simply arrive without any hope that her overtures would be accepted.”

Gabriel scowled, but didn’t bother to argue.

“Why won’t you make some promises to Julia? I’m sure she’s

anxious about what the future might hold. Marriage is a sacrament

that exists partially to protect women from sexual exploitation. If you take that protection away from her, then she is little more than your mistress, no matter what you choose to call her. And she has

seen what happened — what is happening — to Paulina.”

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Gabriel’s Rapture

“That isn’t going to happen to Julianne.”

“How does she know that?” Richard tapped his fingers on the top

of his desk. “Marriage is more than a piece of paper. It’s a mystery. In fact, there’s a Midrash that suggests that marriage is made in heaven between soul mates. Don’t you want to be with Julia forever?”

“What I want is immaterial. I won’t rush her into making a

life-changing decision in the middle of the academic year,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s too soon.”

“Pray that you don’t wait until it’s too late,” Richard countered, gazing sadly at Grace’s photograph.

With these words, then, ringing in his ears, Gabriel sat watching

his soul mate sleep on Christmas morning.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she stirred, a nameless anxiety wafting over her. A moment later she rolled toward him, her fingers making contact with the silk at his hip.