“Then I need to thank her.”
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“I’m the new Dante specialist at Boston University.”
He searched her eyes for a reaction. But there wasn’t one. She sat very still, the candlelight flickering over her fine features.
He chuckled mirthlessly, pouring more wine into her glass. “That isn’t the response I was hoping for.”
She muttered her annoyance, tasting the wine again. “So you’re—here to stay?”
“That depends.” He looked at her sweatshirt significantly.
The heat of his gaze seemed to scorch her. She resisted the urge to hide her breasts from him, keeping her arms at her sides.
“I’m a full professor now. Romance Studies doesn’t have a graduate program in Italian. The university wanted to be able to attract graduate students in Dante studies, so they cross-appointed me with Religion. They have a graduate program.”
He gazed at the shadows that surrounded them, shaking his head. “Surprising, isn’t it? That a man who spent his life running from God should become a professor of Religion.”
“I’ve seen stranger things.”
“Yes,” Gabriel whispered, “I think you have. I would have resigned from Toronto sooner, but it would have caused a scandal. Once you’d graduated, I was free to accept the job here.”
Julia turned away, and Gabriel noticed the nakedness of her ear lobes. She wasn’t wearing Grace’s earrings anymore. The thought gutted him.
Her brow wrinkled as she contemplated what he’d just said.
“What’s so significant about July first?”
“Today is the day my contract in Toronto ends. It’s the day my resignation takes effect.” He cleared his throat. “I read your emails and listened to your voice mails—all of them. But I hoped you’d seen the book. I placed it in your mailbox myself.”
Julia was still processing his words. She wasn’t accepting his excuses; she simply wasn’t arguing with him. At least, not yet.
“I’m sorry I missed your graduation.” He sipped a glass of water. “Katherine sent me a few photographs.” He cleared his throat, hesitating. “You looked beautiful. You are beautiful.”
He dug into his trouser pocket and produced his iPhone. Curious, she took it, setting her wine aside. As his wallpaper, Gabriel had a photograph of Julia in her graduation gown, shaking Katherine Picton’s hand.
“From Katherine,” he explained, noting her confusion.
She scrolled through his photo album determinedly, her stomach queasy. There were pictures from their trip to Italy and photos from Christmas, but Paulina was not to be found. There were no compromising pictures of Gabriel, no images of other women. In fact, almost all the pictures were of her, including a series of very provocative shots that he’d taken in Belize.
She was surprised. After being so convinced he wanted nothing to do with her, the sight of his apparent regard was disorienting.
She returned his phone. “The picture that you used to keep on your dresser, the one of us at Lobby, did you take it with you?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Yes. How did you know?”
Julia paused for a moment as the revelation sunk in. “I noticed it was missing when I went looking for you.”
He reached out to take her hand but once again, she withdrew.
“When I went back to my condo, I saw your clothes. Why you didn’t take them?”
“They weren’t really mine.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together. “Of course they were yours. They still are, if you want them.”
She shook her head.
“Believe me, Julianne, I wanted you with me. The photograph was a poor substitute.”
“You wanted me?”
Gabriel couldn’t help himself. He gently stroked the curve of her cheek with his thumb, inwardly relieved that she didn’t flinch. “I never stopped wanting you.”
She moved away, leaving his hand to touch only air. Her tone grew harsh. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be left by the person you love, not once, but twice?”
Gabriel pressed his lips together. “No, I don’t. Forgive me.”
He waited to see if she would answer him, but she didn’t.
“So Paul gave you that sweatshirt.” He toyed with his glass. “How is he?”
“He’s fine. Why do you care?”
“He’s my student.” Professor Emerson sounded prim.
“So was I, once,” she said bitterly. “You should email him. He said he hasn’t heard from you.”
“So you’ve spoken with him?”
“Yes, Gabriel. I’ve spoken with him.”
Julia pulled her wet hair out of its ponytail, running her fingers delicately through the tangles.
Gabriel watched, entranced, as a cascade of dark, shiny strands fell across her thin shoulders.
“My hair hurts,” she explained.
The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “I didn’t know hair could hurt.”
He ran his fingers through her hair, and his expression changed instantly to one of concern. “You could have been seriously injured, standing in the middle of the street.”
“I’m lucky I didn’t drop my laptop. It has all my research on it.”
“It’s my fault for surprising you. I’m sure I looked like a ghost, skulking about behind that tree.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever skulked a day in your life. And you didn’t look like a ghost. You looked like something else.”
“Like what?”
Suddenly, Julia felt her skin flame.
He watched her cheeks take on the shade of pink he was most familiar with. He ached to feel her blush beneath his fingers. But he was wary of pushing her.
She gestured vaguely. “Paul suggested I back up my files on a flash drive, so if something happened to my computer I’d still have everything. But I haven’t updated it recently.”
At the second mention of his former research assistant, Gabriel suppressed a growl and the urge to mutter a favored expletive that involved copulating carnally with celestial creatures.
He turned to her. “I thought you’d expect me to get in touch with you once you graduated.”
“What if I did, Gabriel? Graduation came and went with no word from you.”
“As I said, I had to wait until my resignation took effect. My contract didn’t end until July first.”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t say the things I need to say while you’re sitting on my futon.”
“I see,” he said slowly.
She shifted her feet, actively resisting the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms and tell him that everything was fine. Things between them weren’t fine. And she owed it to herself, if not to him, to be honest.
“I’ve taken up enough of your evening.” He sounded defeated.
He stood, glancing at the door, then back at Julia. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me. But I hope you’ll give me one more conversation before you say good-bye.”
Julia straightened her shoulders. “You didn’t say good-bye with a conversation. You said it by fucking me against a door.”
He strode toward her quickly.
“Stop it. You know my opinion of that word. Never use it in reference to us again.”
Here was the old Professor Emerson, simmering beneath Gabriel’s chastened exterior. He’d been soft with her, so she found his change in tone jarring. But she’d been exposed to his ill temper before and discovered, at that moment, that it didn’t really trouble her. So she ignored him and stood up, prepared to escort him out.
“Don’t forget this.” She picked up his cell phone.
“Thank you. Julianne, please—”
“How’s Paulina?”
Her question hung in the air like an arrow, poised in flight.
“Why do you ask?”
/> “I’m wondering how often you saw her while you were gone.”
Gabriel placed his phone in his pocket. “I saw her once. I asked for her forgiveness and wished her well.” His tone had the air of finality.
“Is that all?”
“Why don’t you just come out and ask the question, Julianne?” His lips pressed into a thin, angry line. “Why don’t you ask me if I slept with her?”
“Did you?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“Of course not!”
Gabriel’s answer was so swift, so vehement, Julia retreated slightly. He was righteously indignant, his fists clenched.
“Maybe I should have been more specific. There are a lot of things a man and woman can do short of sleeping together.” She raised her chin defiantly.
Gabriel glared, forcing himself to count to ten. It would not do for him to lose his temper now. Not when he had so far to go.
“I realize that you and I have very different views of my departure, but I assure you, I didn’t seek out other women.” His expression grew gentle. “I was alone with your pictures and my memories, Julianne. They were poor companions, but the only other companion I wanted was you.”
“So there wasn’t anyone else?”
“I was faithful the entire time. I swear it, on Grace’s memory.”
His oath stunned them both, and as their eyes met she saw his sincerity. She closed her eyes. Relief began to well up inside her.
He took her hand, cradling it gently in his. “There are a lot of things I should have told you. I’ll tell you now. Come with me.”
“I’d rather stay here,” she whispered, her voice taking on an eerie sound in the flickering darkness.
“The Julianne I remembered hated the dark.” He released her hand. “Paulina is in Minnesota. She reconciled with her family and met someone. We agreed that I would no longer be supporting her, and she wished us well.”
“She wished you well,” Julia muttered.
“No, she wished us well. Don’t you see? She assumed we were still together and I didn’t tell her otherwise. In my mind, you and I were still together.”
This was Gabriel’s own arrow, pointed back at her. He hadn’t told Paulina that he was single, because in his mind, he wasn’t. The realization washed over her.
“There’s no one else.” His voice was the soul of sincerity.
She averted her eyes. “What were you doing in front of a closed coffee shop in the middle of the night?”
“I was working up the courage to ring your doorbell.” Gabriel began twisting the platinum band on his left hand. “I had to convince Rachel to give me your address. She was understandably hesitant.”
Julia’s eyes dropped to his left hand. “Why are you wearing a wedding ring?”
“Why do you think?” He pulled off the ring and held it out to her.
She recoiled.
“Read the inscription,” he urged.
Hesitantly, she took the ring and held it up to one of the candles. Julianne—my Beloved is mine and I am hers.
A sick feeling entered her stomach, and she quickly returned it to him. He replaced it on his left hand without a word.
“Why are you wearing a ring with my name on it?”
“You said that you didn’t want to talk.” His voice was gently reproving. “If you’re allowed to ask me questions, can I ask about Paul?”
She blushed and looked away. “He was there to pick up the pieces.”
Gabriel closed his eyes. He was perilously close to giving in to his temper and saying something cutting, but that would only succeed in pushing her further away.
He opened his eyes. “Forgive me. This ring has a mate, smaller in size. I purchased them at Tiffany in Toronto on the day I bought the silver frame for Maia’s picture.
“I still think of you as my other half. My bashert. Despite what happened, there was never any question of me pursuing someone else. I have been faithful to you since you told me who you were, back in October.”
Julia suddenly found it very difficult to speak. “Gabriel—these past few months, without a word, then tonight…”
He looked at her with compassion, his arms aching to hold her. But she was too far away. “We don’t have to have this conversation now. Just—if you can stand it, please let me see you tomorrow.” He gave her a look filled with longing.
She met his gaze briefly. “Okay.”
He exhaled loudly. “Good. I’ll speak to you tomorrow, then. Rest well.”
She nodded, opening the door.
“Julianne?”
He stood in front of her, far too close. She looked up at him.
“Will you—let me kiss your hand?” His voice was wistful and small, like a young boy.
She waited for him to kiss the back of her hand, then without thinking she reached up and pressed her lips to his forehead. Suddenly, his arms were around her back, pulling her flush against him.
Although he had trouble thinking of anything other than Julianne when he was kissing her, Gabriel focused his attention on trying to communicate with lips and mouth that he hadn’t betrayed her. That he loved her.
When she kissed him back with equal passion, he moaned.
He made sure to be gentle, if not intense, and as her own movements slowed, he began to nibble slightly at the fullness of her lower lip, before pressing closed mouthed kisses to both cheeks and finally, the end of her nose.
When he opened his eyes he saw a flood of emotions pass over Julia’s pretty face.
He ran his fingers through her damp hair, once, twice, and gazed down at her longingly. “I love you.”
She was silent as he walked through the door.
* * *
Gabriel’s kiss did nothing to strengthen Julia’s resolve, but she would not consider it a mistake. She’d been curious about what it would be like to kiss him again and was surprised at how familiar it was. In mere seconds he succeeded in causing her pulse to race and her throat to constrict.
She couldn’t deny that he loved her. She’d felt it. Even Gabriel, with his polished manners and charm, couldn’t lie with his kiss.
There was something different about him. He seemed softer, somehow, more vulnerable. Yes, there was the occasional show of temper and the old Professor Emerson, but she knew that Gabriel had changed. She just didn’t know why.
By the following morning the power had been restored and Julia was able to recharge her phone. She called the manager at Peet’s and explained that she was under the weather and would be taking the weekend off. He wasn’t happy about it since it was the fourth of July weekend, but there was little he could do.
After a long hot shower, (a shower spent dreaming about Gabriel’s lips and old, suppressed memories of the two of them together), Julia felt much, much better. And only a little worse. She sent a quick email to Rachel, explaining that Gabriel had returned and declared his love for her. An hour later, her phone rang. She expected that it would be Rachel. Surprisingly, it was Dante Alighieri.
“How did you sleep?” Gabriel sounded cheerful.
“Well. And you?”
He paused. “Not as well as I used to—tolerably, I suppose.”
Julia laughed. This was the Professor Emerson she remembered.
“I want to show you my house,” he said.
“What, now?”
“Today, if you’re willing.” He sounded worried she might refuse.
“Where is it?”
“It’s on Foster Place, near Longfellow’s house. Ideal for a commute to Harvard. Not so convenient for BU.”
Julia was puzzled. “If it’s inconvenient for BU, then why did you buy it?”
Gabriel cleared his throat. “I was thinking that—I was hoping that…” He struggled to find the right words. “It’s small but it has a beautiful garden. I’d like to know what you think of it.” He cleared his throat again, and she swore she could hear him tugging at his shirt collar. “Of course, I could always move.”
&
nbsp; She hummed in response, not sure what to say.
“Now that you’ve had a good night’s sleep, will you talk to me a little?”
Julia had never heard Gabriel sound so nervous. “Of course. But it isn’t something we can do over the phone.”
“I need to pay a visit to campus to see my new office. It won’t take long.”
“There’s no rush.”
“Yes, there is.” Now Gabriel’s voice was heated.
She sighed heavily. “I could come over later.”
“Come for dinner. I’ll pick you up at six thirty.”
“I’ll take a cab.”
Julia broke the awkward pause that followed with an explanation that she needed to go.
“Fine,” said Gabriel stiffly. “If you wish to take a cab, that’s your prerogative.”
“I’m going to keep an open mind until we talk, and I’d like to ask you to do that too.” Her tone was conciliatory.
Gabriel felt as if he were hanging on to his hopes by a very thin thread. He was far from certain that she would take him back. And even if she did, the old specter of jealously taunted him. He didn’t know how he would react if she revealed that she’d turned to Paul in her grief and shared his bed.
God damned Angelfucker.
“Of course,” Gabriel said, his voice strained.
“I’m surprised you called me. Why didn’t you call me while you were away?”
He was silent for a moment. “That’s a long story.”
“I’m sure it is. I’ll see you tonight.”
She hung up the phone, wondering what his story would include.
* * *
When Julia arrived at Gabriel’s new home, she surveyed it with no little puzzlement. It was a two-story frame house with a simple, unadorned front, and it was painted a charcoal gray with darker trim. There was almost no front yard to speak of and a small, paved car pad to the house’s right.
In an email that included directions, Gabriel had sent Julia a link to the original real estate listing for the property. The asking price had been over a million dollars. The house had been built prior to World War II. In fact, the entire street had been a neighborhood of Italian immigrants who built the small, two bedroom houses in the nineteen twenties. Now the street was populated with old-moneyed yuppies, Harvard professors, and Gabriel.