Page 21 of Finding Gwen

His smile as he ripped apart wrapping paper would forever be ingrained in my mind, the earlier events seeming to have had no lasting effects on him. I made sure to take plenty of photos, knowing Anthony might want to see them. Hoping Anthony would want to see them.

Anthony… My mind drifted to the kiss, the way he held me, and the way my body responded. It was him taking what he needed, and I happily gave it to him. I had seen a darkness in his eyes, as if something was taking over. It should have scared me, but he had always been gentle with me, protective even. Matthew had never been that way, even at the beginning of our relationship.

The whistle of the teakettle pulled me from my thoughts. Grabbing a tea bag, I sat it in the mug before covering it with the hot water. Slowly, the water turned a light brown as I cupped the drink in my hands, letting the warmth flow through my body. Sipping it as I walked to the living room, one of the end table lights cast a soft glow across the space, lighting my way to the couch.

Sitting down, I tucked my feet under me and pulled a blanket over my lap, then exchanged the mug for my book that had been waiting for me next to the lamp. My mind drifted as I got lost in the fictional world. It didn’t take long for my eyelids to get heavy, and instead of the characters in my book building a life together, it was Anthony and me.

A heavy warmth fell over my body and it had me relaxing further into the couch. A soft touch on my cheek made my eyes flicker open. My vision was blurry at first but blinking a few times, I saw a figure kneeling in front of me.

“Anthony?” I cleared my throat and noticed his arm was outstretched, his hand still placed gently on my cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Gwendalyn.” He went to stand, pulling his hand away but I quickly grabbed it. Shifting up until I was sitting, the blanket that had been pulled up to my shoulders falling down to my lap. I gently tugged his hand, urging him to sit down next to me. He sat, hanging his head and avoiding eye contact. My heart broke, feeling the sadness radiating from him.

I didn’t know what to say, not able to find words good enough to comfort him. Instead, I reached out to grab his other hand when my fingers brushed over a brace.

“Anthony, what happened to your hand?” I questioned, trying not to freak out as I brushed my thumb over the swollen knuckles.

“It’s not important,” he mumbled, continuing to avoid my gaze.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, his hand still in mine. I wanted to push him for more details, but it seemed like he was working up the nerve to tell me something. His body was tense and the leg closest to me was bouncing enough that it made my arm move.

“Kimberly and I met a few years after I got out of the police academy,” Anthony started, taking a deep breath as if he needed to say everything at once or lose the battle he was fighting with himself. “We had our fights, like any relationship did, but I was in love. I wanted to make it work. We moved in together, got married, then she got pregnant. I thought we were okay. After Oliver was born, we were in a good enough place that we decided Kimberly could stay home with him. It had worked out, anyway, since I had just been promoted to detective and it made sense with my hours. I was dedicated to my work and did my best to be present for my wife and kid, but I saw some really awful things the first few months on the job.”

I nodded my head in understanding, even though he wasn’t looking at me. His focus was still down, staring at a spot on the rug, or maybe even his shoes.

“Kimberly used it as an excuse to constantly pick fights with me, claiming my lack of attention was obviously because I had found someone better to put my dick in. Defusing the situation never worked and at the end of the day, she refused to believe otherwise.” He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

“Around Oliver’s first birthday, I had made it a point to leave work early so I could show her I could be there for her. When I got home, I could hear Oliver screaming and crying from somewhere in the house. I was scared. When I found them, she was passed out on our bed with an empty bottle of vodka and a bag of pills thrown on the nightstand. Oliver was sitting in his crib in the corner of the room.

“Kimberly hid a lot of things from me during our marriage, including her excessive levels of drinking. If I had known, I would have never agreed to her being a stay at home mom. The only thing I ever wanted was the best thing for my family.”

Anger was radiating from Anthony again, his body shaking. I should have been scared, but I realized had never given me a reason to be. Not once had he raised his voice or put his hands on my body in any other way besides gentle and caring. Instead, I let go of his hands, leaning forward and wrapping my arms around him from the side as I let my head rest against his shoulder. His shoulders relaxed as he sighed. “Is this too much?”

“No. I’m here, for as long as you want me to be,” I whispered as I tightened my grip, my head never leaving his shoulder. He closed his eyes, his unwrapped hand coming up to hold on to my arm across his chest. The gentle squeeze sent a flutter through my stomach, hoping I was doing enough to help ease the pain he must be feeling.

His entire body rose with his next breath before he continued. “I was furious that Kimberly would be stupid enough to do something like this, but I had made sure she was breathing before I rushed to Oliver. Katie was the only person I thought to call, knowing she was home next door. I quickly found out that Katie had actually been the one watching Oliver all along, agreeing to do it so she could get in some practice before her daughter was born. Kimberly would call her soon after I left for work. She was never actually home alone with our son.”

“Anthony, I’m so sorry. That should have never happened to you,” I sighed.

“Instead of calling 9-1-1 like I had originally planned on doing, I woke her up by throwing her in a cold shower, then telling her she had forty-eight hours to get her stuff and leave. When she tried to protest, I told her I would have her arrested for child endangerment if need be. Obviously she was pissed by the entire situation, going so far as contacting my commander at work with made up stories. I served her with divorce papers shortly after and filed a motion with the court for sole custody, with no visitation. She didn’t even bother showing up to the hearing, so it was an open and shut case. I hadn’t heard a thing from her until today. In all honesty, I had hoped she was dead.”

We sat in silence for quite some time following Anthony’s confession, his head hanging from the weight of it all. It broke my heart thinking about a baby Ollie sitting and crying for hours while the woman, who was supposed to love and protect him at all costs, was unconscious a few feet away. I could only imagine the confusion and despair Anthony must have been feeling when he went through all of that.

My own anger was settling in my body, the emotion so intense I thought my stomach was going to explode. I shifted my arms and moved until I was kneeling in front of Anthony, needing to focus on him to keep from letting my own emotions take over.

“Whatever you need, I will be here,” I whispered, settling my hands on his knees as his face lifted to meet mine. His eyes were filled with sorrow. The happy man I knew only hours ago was replaced by this dejected shell in front of me. “Anthony, we’ll figure this out together.”

“Gwendalyn, I cannot ask you…” he started, but trailed off as my hand rested on his cheek.

“You said so yourself. I’m a part of the family now. Family takes care of one another.” His hand finds mine, our fingers intertwining. I became lost in his dark brown eyes, his scent occupying the space around us while my fingers twitched to run through his hair. My body was screaming for his lips to be on mine, for my tongue to dance with his.

“Gwendalyn…” The dark rich bass of his voice had wetness pooling in between my legs. Our bodies gravitated toward each other, his breath dancing around across my skin. I was seconds away from climbing up onto his lap, pressing my body against his.

Then the all too familiar ringtone of his phone cut through the air. Immediately, I pulled away, returning to my place on the couch. Anthony kept his eyes on me, not saying a word, as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Marino,” he gruffly answered. The emotionally vulnerable man that was sitting next to me was now gone, replaced by the professional Anthony ready to jump back into work whenever needed. As I continued holding space next to him, our eyes never leaving one another, his grunted replies and pinched eyebrows brought me comfort that maybe he found this call as ill timed as I did. “Be there in fifteen.”

Anthony hung up, shifting to shove the phone back into his pocket. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he mumbled. He hesitated before standing, reaching out toward me with his hand slightly before quickly pulling it back. The words he had trouble finding earlier still hang between us unsaid.

---