“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?”