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In silence, we get dressed quickly and head back to the wedding reception. If only I had fallen into the arms of Gabriel Lucas. Fate played me. I will never be able to shake the memory of this night away.
A shared betrayal.
A shared mistake.
A secret we must always keep between us.
TWENTY-SEVEN
AVA
Now
My stomach starts cramping in this cross-legged position. Is it from my PGP or my C-section…or is it from the whirling dervish of emotions wreaking havoc inside me? Guilt. Apprehension. Regret. Desire.
White-hot desire that’s burning up my flesh.
“I need to get up,” I tell Gabe. And I so need to get away from him.
Uncrossing my legs, I attempt to stand, but my body is not cooperating with my brain. A groan escapes.
“Here, let me help you.” Before I can protest, Gabe squats behind me, his arms wrapped around my torso, and easily pulls us both up to standing.
His warm breath dusts my neck, then his lips press against my scalp and he whispers, “Ava, I meant what I said on the night of your wedding.”
I love you, Ava. The words swirl around my head and send my heart into a frenzy. It thuds madly against my chest as a flutter climbs from my legs to my stomach.
I want to stay here forever in the circle of Gabriel’s arms, feel his warmth and protection. His lips pressed to my head.
I try to wriggle free from him, but his strength makes it futile. “Gabe, stop. Please stop. You know it’s impossible. I’m married to your partner. Your best friend from college.”
My mind flashes to our fifty-page prenup. Ned handed it to me last minute. I barely had the time to read it. Our wedding was the next day. I was overwhelmed and had my mother breathing down my neck, telling me to sign the damn thing.
I now wish I had my own lawyer look at it. Maybe it’s not too late.
Letting go of me, Gabe blows out a frustrated breath. “This is so messed up. Why couldn’t you have fallen into my arms?”
A profound sadness permeates every cell, every molecule, every bone of my being. “I’m sorry, Gabe. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”
I turn around and face him, silently mourning the impossibility of it all. A tear escapes one eye.
With a gallant hand, Gabe brushes it away, then cradles my face in his palms. “Oh, God, Ava. I love you so much…”
The same.
His eyelids growing heavy, he angles his head, and his mouth moves dangerously close to mine. So close I can taste his lips on mine.
“Ava, I thought I heard voices coming from inside here.”
A new voice. Brazen and brittle. Shit. My mother.
As she enters the room, a drink in her hand, Gabe and I quickly break away. Reflexively, I straighten my top, redo my ponytail. My hands shake; my heart thuds. What did she hear? What did she see?
She totters up to us. Drunk by noon? Scrutinizing Gabe with her glazed eyes, she takes another glug of her drink and, with a hiccup, says, “I heard a man’s voice I didn’t recognize. I was worried and thought there might be an intruder.”
“Mother, please keep your voice down. You’ll wake the baby.”
Her eyes stay on Gabe. “Who is this man?” she drawls, her voice not dropping a decibel.
