Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno 3)

“I promise.”

He brought her head back to rest on his shoulder.

Chapter Twenty-five

August 2011

Near Essex Junction, Vermont

The following evening, Paul sat at the kitchen table in his parents’ farmhouse, staring at his laptop. It was almost seven o’clock.

He’d been home from England for two weeks. Every day he sat down to type an email to Julia, and every day he found he couldn’t.

Her emails were always cheerful, and the most recent one was no exception. She’d written him from Italy, urging him to visit the Vatican museum the next time he was in Rome. As if he needed urging. As if he needed the reminder that she was married and jet-setting around Europe with her dashing and older husband, who was probably thinking of ways to persuade her to have his baby.

Bastard.

Paul was a rugby player. He was tough. But somehow, this slip of a woman from Selinsgrove, Pennsylvania, had turned his life upside down. Now he was afraid of doing what he’d already determined to do.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered. He started to type, the words just beginning to flow, when he heard a knock at the back door.

Curious, he answered it.

“Hi.” Allison greeted him, standing outside and holding two large coffees from Dunkin’ Donuts. “I thought you could use one of these.”

When he didn’t respond, she gave him an uneasy smile. “Are you working on your dissertation? I don’t mean to interrupt.”

She handed him a coffee. “I’ll just go.”

“Wait. Come in.” He held the screen door open.

She thanked him and walked into the kitchen, pulling out a chair across from where his computer was situated.

“I haven’t heard from you since you got back from England.”

“I’ve been busy.” His voice had a slight edge to it. “My dissertation director is kicking my ass and I have a lot of ground to cover before September.”

“How was your trip?”

Paul sipped his coffee and made an appreciative noise. “It was good. My paper went well and I was able to talk to my director.”

Allison nodded, clutching her cup a little too tightly. “Was she there?”

“Her name is Julia.” Paul’s tone was sharp.

“I know that,” she said gently. “I met her in this kitchen, remember?”

“Yes, she was there.” He tasted his drink again.

“How is she?”

“She’s good. Her husband was there, too.”

Allison searched Paul’s unusually morose expression.

“You don’t sound happy.”

He didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry.”

He gave her a half-smile. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I don’t like to see you pining.”

He shrugged but didn’t deny it.

“I was trying to compose an email to her when you knocked on the door.”

Allison gripped her cup in two hands. “I don’t know her. But I think it’s weird that she’s keeping in touch with you, given your history. It’s like she’s leading you on.”

“You’re right, you don’t know her.” Paul glared.

“I doubt her husband is happy about her emailing you.”

Paul muttered something unflattering about the Professor.

Allison sat still for a moment, as if she were waiting for something. Then she stood.

“I’ll see myself out.”

Her former boyfriend followed her to the back door. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” She stepped outside.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Allison didn’t turn around but stood facing the driveway.

“Me, too.”

Chapter Twenty-six

August 2011

Umbria, Italy

Every time Julia sat down at her computer, she was tempted to Google Gabriel’s parents. But he’d exacted a promise from her and she wouldn’t betray him, no matter how difficult it was to keep that promise.

On one such morning, Julia was checking her email when she found something from Paul. She opened it.

After she read the message, she sat back in her chair, stunned.

“Do you want eggs for breakfast? Or fruit and cheese?” Gabriel called from the kitchen, which was next to the living room.

When she didn’t respond, he walked over to her.

“Should I make eggs for breakfast, or just fruit and cheese? There’s also pastries from the bakery.”

She looked up at him in evident distress.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just got an email from Paul.”

Gabriel resisted the urge to comment on the Angelfucker and his behavior. “What did he say?”

Wordlessly, she pointed at the computer screen.

Gabriel fished around in his pocket for his glasses and put them on.

Dear Julia,

Thanks for your email. You did a great job with your paper and I thought you handled the questions well, especially Christa’s. I was impressed.

Professor Picton was very complimentary. She doesn’t praise people often, so you should be proud of yourself.

Please pass along my congratulations to your father and his girlfriend. He’s a good guy and I’m happy for them.

I’m back in Vermont. My dad’s health continues to improve. Thanks for asking. I’ll tell him and Mom that you said hello.

I’m determined to meet Professor Picton’s deadlines, so my parents have hired more help at the farm. I hope to go on the job market this fall and pick up some interviews at the Modern Language Association meeting. If I don’t get a job, I’m back on the farm for another year.

I’m glad we had a chance to go to lunch. It was good to see you.

There were some things I should have said, but didn’t. I guess I should say them now.

I think we need to go our separate ways. You’re married and I need to move on.

Maybe it will be easier for me in the future. But in the meantime, we should stop emailing.

I don’t mean to hurt you, so please don’t take it that way. I care about you, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while and believe it’s for the best.

Be happy, Rabbit.

Paul

Gabriel’s eyes focused on hers. She looked stricken.

“I sent him a couple of emails. It took him days to reply. And look at what he said.”

Gabriel crouched down, placing his hand on Julia’s knee. “He’s in love with you. You know that.”

“I know he loved me once.”