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.
“What did he say?”
“They want to get married Labor Day weekend. It will be a small wedding. Dad feels more comfortable with Diane at his place and Diane doesn’t want to move in with him without being married.”
“And the baby?”
“Nothing has changed. Diane seems to be doing well, and the baby is about as good as could be expected. They’re keeping an eye on both of them.” She shook her head. “Dad feels pretty helpless.”
“Of course he does. He wants to protect them and there’s nothing he can do.”
She nodded, looking down at the marble with a fascination unwarranted by its appearance. “I’m sorry about Maria.”
“So am I.” He leaned against the vanity, contemplating his bare feet. “But at least I tried to help her.”
“Maybe one of the families you contacted will change their mind. If they could just meet her, I’m sure they’d fall in love with her.”
He nodded, wriggling his toes.
“I won’t say that I understand, Gabriel, because I don’t. I wasn’t adopted and so I don’t share that special affinity you have with the children at the orphanage. But if you could just give me until my fourth year, I—”
“We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that. There’s no rush.” He smiled at her gently.
A feeling of relief mixed with dread washed over her.
Gabriel returned to his shaving, while she watched with rapt fascination.
“This reminds me of our first trip to Florence. We were getting ready together before going to the Uffizi.” She seemed wistful. “I was just your girlfriend, then.”
Gabriel stopped.
“You were never just my girlfriend, Julianne. You were my lover. And we’re still lovers.”
“How could I forget?” She gestured in the direction of the bedroom, pausing for a moment to remember their first time together. “I was so happy here.
“But tonight I’m going to accompany you to the Uffizi as your wife. We get to open the exhibition of your illustrations together.”