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Shit. She has a point. But I can’t— “I can’t force Bella to stay married to me.” I can hear the edge of frustration in my voice. “All of this started because she wanted to escape an arranged marriage. I can’t make her stay in one.”
“Hmph.” Agnes shakes her head. “The two of you are smarter than this. But maybe I gave you too much credit.”
“Agnes—”
She waves a hand at me. “Fine. Go to Rome. I’ll get everyone here ready to go back to New York. And we will wait and see what the Russian asshole does. But I’m telling you, Gabriel, if you just let her go, you’re a fool.”
She turns away without saying anything else, clearly ending the conversation. I stare at her for a long moment before striding out of the kitchen and up to get my things, every muscle tense.
I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I can’t make Bella stay. Agnes has a point, but if I tell her I’ve changed my mind about giving her a divorce, Bella will think I planned to do this all along. She’ll think I lied to her, tricked her, just like every other man in her life always has.
Or, you could tell her the truth. That you don’t want her to leave because?—
I can’t even admit it aloud in my own head, so I don’t know how I could possibly say it to her.
Everyone comes outside to see me off. I hug Cecelia and Danny, telling them once more to be good, and then I straighten, looking at Bella. Her face is blank, giving nothing away, but all I can think is that I don’t want to leave without kissing her one more time.
So I take a chance, and I step forward. I cup her face in one palm, and I press my lips softly to hers.
For a brief second, she stiffens. And then she softens, her mouth parting slightly against mine, and I want nothing more than for us to be alone. For her to be going to Rome with me. For?—
A chorus of “Ewww, gross!” from Cecelia and Danny brings the moment crashing down. I break the kiss, stepping back as my two children giggle next to Bella, and look at her once more before getting into the car.
When I come back, I know nothing will be the same.
—
I feel unsettled during the entire flight. I can’t stop feeling that this is the wrong choice. That I shouldn’t be selling, that I shouldn’t allow Bella to leave, that I should fight for all of the things that I’m coming to realize I want.
But ever since I lost Delilah, I’ve functioned by sticking to my plans. By not allowing my emotions to rule me. By following my head, and not my heart.
My head says that the plan I’ve made is the logical one. That I thought through all the reasons for and against selling, and decided it was the best choice for my family, for their future. That I made a promise to Bella, and any sign of going back on it, no matter the reason, will make it so that she doesn’t trust me—will result in our parting being acrimonious, instead of amicable.
Logic tells me that I should stick to the decisions I’ve made. That for the last several years, I’ve made it through by doing exactly that. I can’t let my emotions rule me now, when so much depends on me keeping my head.
I can’t let my family down, when they need me the most.
Even that can’t stop me from missing Bella, though. From the moment I check into the luxury hotel room in Rome, all I can think about is what it would be like to have her here with me. How she would react to the huge, soft bed, the clawfoot tub in the bathroom, the balcony with the stunning view. I can think of a dozen things I’d do to her in this room before we were here for an hour, and the thought makes me ache.
I love her. I want her. And I’m going to lose her.
I know I should leave her alone. But after a dinner of seafood spaghetti and fresh oysters washed down with crisp white wine in the hotel restaurant, I come back up to the room and look at my cell phone as I start to undress, thinking about her.
A need to hear her voice grips me. To know that she’s still alright. To give her a chance to change my mind.
Before I can stop myself, I pick up the phone and find her in my contacts.
“Gabriel?” Her voice, soft and curious on the other end, sends a jolt of need through me. It takes everything in me not to walk out of the door this instant, get back on the plane, and go home to the estate. Home to her.
Is following my head really what I should be doing, when it feels like it’s tearing apart my heart?
“I wanted to call and check in.” I sit down heavily on the bed in my boxers, leaning back against the pillows. Just the sound of her voice already has me hardening, and I reach down and adjust myself. The idea of trying to seduce her into phone sex is tempting, but I remember all too clearly what she said before last night.
Just one more night.
We’ve blown through boundary after boundary, redrawn the lines in the sand so many times. At some point, if we’re not going to do this for real, it has to stop.
“We’re fine.” Bella lets out a sigh, and I can picture her sitting down, too. I can’t help but wonder if she’s still sleeping in my bed now that I’m gone, or if she’s gone back to her old bedroom. Without me there, there’s no reason not to—unless she likes sleeping in my bed. Unless she still wants to feel close to me. “The children are sad we’re leaving. But Agnes and I have kept them cheered up. We had a movie night with hot cocoa, and they’re asleep now.”
