Page 75 of Vicious Devotion

I just wish that some parts of it—the parts that are pushing it towards that inevitable end—could be different.

Gabriel is waiting when I come downstairs, leaning against the staircase with his hands in his jeans pockets. My heart trips in my chest when I see him, the way it always does. It makes me wonder how long we’d have to be together before that stopped happening. If it would ever stop happening.

He turns to look at me as he hears my footsteps, and his gaze instantly lands on the camera. “I noticed you hadn’t been taking pictures as often,” he says quietly, glancing up at me. “I wondered why. I thought for sure you’d be photographing everything.”

“I’ve been busy.” I bite my lip, looking down at the camera. The truth is—I haven’t been sure that I wanted to capture the moments here. Not because I wasn’t happy, but because despite everything, I’ve had some of the happiest moments of my life here. And they’re all going to be gone soon.

I take pictures of things to make the impermanent permanent. But I don’t know if I want to look back and remember what I used to have.

“Come on,” I murmur, blinking back the heat burning in my eyes. “I’ll show you around.”

I take Gabriel through the house, snapping ‘after’ pictures of everything as we go. I show him the new farmhouse sinks installed in the kitchen, the long butcher’s block dining table that was delivered yesterday, and the iron cabinet handles that we replaced. I show him the re-upholstered furniture in each room, the tiles we changed out and the ones we managed to save, the new drapes in the living room and library, and the carefully cleaned and reorganized shelves. I can feel the tension in him when we reach the library, and I focus on taking pictures, a little afraid to look at him. I feel certain that if I do, we might end up on one of those freshly re-upholstered couches. The memory of what we’ve done in this room before is far too close.

“You did an amazing job,” Gabriel says quietly. “You and Agnes both. You’ve breathed new life into it, without losing any of the history. It’s still the house I remember growing up in, just—refreshed.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “That’s what we wanted.” I gesture to the dark green wallpaper with a thin vine print on the far wall of the library, framed by the other light-painted walls. “Cecelia picked out the wallpaper. She picked out a lot of the colors for things. I think she has a knack for this.”

“So do you.” Gabriel’s gaze lands on mine, and my heart trips in my chest. I know what he’s thinking—the question of what I’m going to do after all of this. “Maybe you have a possible future in home design.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” I try to keep my voice light, but it’s hard. I can hear the heaviness in his, and I have a feeling that I know what he’s about to say before it comes out of his mouth.

“I found a buyer, Bella.”

Even suspecting that’s what he was about to say, it hits harder than I could have thought. The finality of it feels like a punch, like I didn’t realize how much I hoped that there would be a fairy-tale ending to all of this, no matter how unlikely, until reality came in and slapped me.

“When—”

“I’m flying to Rome in the morning to meet the buyer.” Gabriel lets out a heavy sigh, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ll leave most of the security here with you and the girls, just in case. And then when I come back?—”

“We go back to New York.” I swallow hard. “Gabriel?—”

“I know what that means.” He presses his lips together. “You’ll find your own place, and—that will be it.” He looks at me, and his face is so carefully shuttered that I can’t read any of the emotion there. “I’ll keep my promise, Bella. You don’t have to worry about that. If you want a divorce, I’ll give you one. I won’t make you stay with me.”

“I know.” I look away, unsure of what to say next. A part of me, one that I know is illogical, half wishes he would try to make me stay. It makes no sense, because it’s his kindness, his patience, his respectfulness, his willingness to let me be whoever I want to be without forcing anything on me that has made me feel what I do for him.

That has made me…love him.

But at the same time, I want to know how he feels for me. His actions say one thing, and his words another. And a part of me wishes that he would look at me and say he’s not letting me go.

“Is that still what you want?” His voice is quiet as he says it, and I wish I knew what he wanted me to say. I wish I knew that if I spilled my heart out to him, he would give me his in return.

I’m too scared to take that chance without knowing for sure. Because every time I think of it, all I can remember is Gabriel at the very beginning, telling me with utter sincerity that the only way we could have anything at all together is if I understood that there was no future in it. That love was not something he was interested in exploring, ever again.

“I want—” My throat tightens. “Yes.” I force the word out, my eyes burning as I do. Tell me you don’t want it, I want to scream. Tell me that you want to try. “That’s what I want.”

It’s the first time I’ve ever lied to Gabriel. But I don’t know what else to say. He’ll give me anything I want. He’ll stay in this arranged marriage, if he thinks I want the protection and safety of it to continue, if he thinks I don’t want to leave the children. He’ll keep dragging out this charade, all in the name of making me happy, even if it tears us both apart.

It can’t work. Not like this.

Gabriel nods slowly. “I promised you,” he says quietly. “But?—”

Please. My heart leaps in my chest, waiting to hear what he’ll say. Waiting to hear him tell me that he doesn’t want me to go.

“One more night, Bella,” he says, his voice still low, and when his eyes meet mine, they’re full of so much longing that my heart squeezes like it’s clenched in a fist. “Before I leave tomorrow. One more night here, together. Where we got married. Where we were—” He breaks off, and I sink my teeth into my lower lip, desire and disappointment warring in my chest.

It’s not a declaration of love. It’s not a plea to stay. But it is what we both want. I can’t pretend that I don’t.

It would be another lie to say that I want to go home, to dissolve this, without ever feeling Gabriel inside of me again.

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