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She tried to get me to go on a ferry, threw American coins into the buskers hat, and then she insisted we go to McDonald’s for fries.
By the time we reach my building, I breathe a sigh of fucking relief.
Inside my apartment, I lay her on the sofa, placing two painkillers and a glass of water beside her. Forcing her to drink it, she does so but mumbles something about being ungrateful, then accidentally spills water on her dress.
For fuck’s sake.
I grab a spare tee in my closet, demanding she change into it to be more comfortable. She argues, of course, until I lift her dress above her head, leaving Gabriella in her lace bra and panties.
Don’t fucking look.
I try my best to ignore the way her tits swell in her black lace bra or the way her panties are sheer against her skin. Quickly, I place the tee on her, controlling my own desires and more so worried about her.
She instantly falls asleep. I sit on the chair beside her, silently watching her sleep. Every so often, she blinks her eyes, allowing her eyelashes to flutter like wings. I’m mesmerized by her beauty, her flawless skin, and the colorful pink of her lips. I ache to run my fingers along her bottom lip, press my mouth against hers, and taste her sweet tongue against my own.
But I know the second I touch her—all walls will come crumbling down again.
I didn’t sleep a wink, watching her until the sun begins to rise. Her face twitches, and she begins to move, opening her eyes at a slow pace and shifting her glance to where I sit, still watching her.
“Did you… why am I half naked?”
“Relax, you’re wearing my T-shirt, and it’s because you spilled water on your dress.
She stands, only to spin in a circle before falling onto the sofa. Her face pales, and the moans leaving her lips can only describe the agony she’s in.
“Drink this.”
“No.”
“Stop being stubborn.”
“Sebastian’s drink is?—”
“Awful but does the trick,” I remind her.
Raising the glass to her lips, she drinks the whole glass, almost dry retching as the liquid disappears. Moments later, her color comes back.
“What… what happened last night?” she asks faintly.
“Do you really want me to tell you?”
“Argh… no. Spare me the humility.” She closes her eyes, only to open them wide, panicked. “Wait, what time is it? My flight!”
“Relax,” I tell her. “You’ve got hours. It’s five in the morning.”
“Five?” She drops her head to the pillow, closing her eyes again. “I feel so…” She doesn’t end her sentence, lying perfectly still. I suspect she’s fallen asleep, and I watch her tiny breaths increasing slowly. But moments later, she opens her eyes again and stares blankly at the ceiling.
My lips press together in a slight grimace. There’s so much history between us, so much damage that feels irreparable.
Struggling to find the right words, I sit in silence until I can no longer wait.
“Tell me what happened… after you left my hotel that night,” I ask in a calm voice.
She shuffles, leaning on her side. Letting out a sigh, she pulls the blanket to her chest and clutches onto it. “I told my father I wanted out. He threatened me, called me a disgrace, and warned me I’d have nothing and you would pay the price. So, I agreed to marry Nicholas. I was terrified of having nothing and I didn’t want him destroying you.”
“You married him?”
“I left him at the altar… I can’t explain it. Seeing him, then Lana and Sebastian, I knew I couldn’t live the lie any longer. I was miserable.”
