Page 119 of Promise and Punishment

“Your effect is much stronger than you realize, and though I didn’t mention it at the time, the confrontation I faced out there was something you saved me from. You know by now that it wasn’t just some DJ, because out there in some club, written on a tiny marquee was a name of a person I couldn’t fucking walk away from. Michael Brower.”

“I… remember the photos.” I added quietly. “You’re different though. You fight to protect, not to hurt.”

“There was no one left to protect that night,” he admitted. “I can be honest about what that meant to me. Paparazzi or not, I knew once I saw Michael, that I was going to hurt him. It was revenge, nothing else, and as soon as we locked eyes, I was gone…” he stopped himself, before murmuring, calmly and regrettably. “I. Wanted. To. Kill. Him. And honestly I would’ve if it hadn’t been for you… if it hadn’t been for why I was there in the first place.”

Alejandro appeared at peace, and even though what he said was violent, not once did I feel sick to my stomach, not like when I saw Michael Brower’s bloodied face in that article.

“Why me?” I whispered, the magazine still splayed in my hand, the chatter of guests ambient to our secluded spot.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, still perplexed himself. “I don’t know why you, or why we even met. But it feels bigger than me. Why did you lose your job? Why was I walking into that exact shop at that exact time you were? It’s almost like the universe can only kick someone down for so long until it gives them a break… or rather, a sign. I wish I had an answer for it, but I don’t; I only know it happens once in a lifetime, and that when it does, you’re never supposed to let it go. So I won’t, and I didn’t… which is why I didn’t kill Michael… because as soon as I got to him, I was terrified at the idea of ever losing you. It was you, Gemma… you that pulled me through, you who was more important. And it’s not what you said or what you did, it was simply justyou;your existence so magnetic that I could only feel it, but not see it. You are so much like me, but you’re the good I never had.”

To think he even thought of me this way, the stubborn girl who put up a fight against his charm, who yelled at him, who rejected him, made me feel guilty. How could he be so accepting after all that? I couldn’t be that valuable to someone, not me. “I don’t think anyone has ever said anything like that to me before,” I admitted.

“Well, maybe no one has seen you like I have. That’s the reason you’re my gemstone… I know this may feel like a lot, but when I tell you I’ve changed, I have. Telling you what I need to tonight won’t be easy… but I need to get it off my chest, because I’ll be gone soon, and you deserve to know it.”

“What do you mean gone?” I let the magazine slip into my lap, not willing to lose him again.

“The studio booked me on a press tour for the next three months. I leave for L.A. in two days. But I want you to come with me.”

“Well, I…” I couldn’t wrap my mind around the sudden news. Of course, I couldn’t leave, not without knowing what I wanted to do with St. La Vie first. But how could I let him go? The few weeks apart from each other felt like forever. What would three months do?

“It could be fun,” he interrupted. “I can finally take you to Pink’s Hot Dogs, show you the coast, get you tan like me,” he laughed innocently. “I know you have St. La Vie, I know you have your roots here, and I can’t ask you to tear them away so easily, but I’m too selfish not to ask either.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea—” I admitted, but not before he stopped me.

“Don’t answer…” he said. “Tonight, I only want to show you how important you are to me, to let the whole world know, starting here,” he pointed down at the magazine. “This is more for you than for them. I have the courage to be who I am, because of you, and if you stay here, just know how committed I am.” I looked out the window as if the answer would be floating out in the billboard’s flashing in bright, pink letters. He took my silence in, not once looking away from me, “I just want to tell you my final truth tonight, and for us to both be honest with each other. And if you stay in New York, that’s ok too. Either way, I’ll be back, because nothing can keep me away from you. New York… is only borrowingyou,” he said, sounding so convincingly, that even I believed it.

Still, I didn’t move, concentrating on all the impossible ways I could fix what I’d done, but settling on nothing. I thought of Parker, my childhood, my neck burning with an ache that needed to be soothed. I wanted to tell Alejandro everything right now, to blurt it out like bile that turned my stomach.

And what did he want to tell me, what more could there possibly be to the man whose life had already been a series of traumas? Was it like mine with Claire? Was it worse?

I took a moment and, without a second thought, committed myself to a small but necessary step. “Ok… Let’s talk.”

Alejandro’s phone chimed at the table, averting his attention. “Damn,” he muttered, apologizing. “It’s Ivanna, she wants me to take a call tonight with the studio. It’s about the tour.”

“Of course.” I pretended to be as casual as I could possibly be.

“We can pick up some food on the way back, but we have to leave. Is that ok?”

“Sounds great,” I lied, folding my napkin onto the table. Truthfully, I didn’t like this, and I worried about leaving, about getting closer to confessing what happened in the Hamptons.

“Let me just use the restroom real quick.” I said, not waiting for his response, but standing as soon as I could.

I had to get away, I had to find some moment alone to figure myself out, to snip the proverbial bomb still strapped to my chest. I never felt more self-conscious than now as I barged my way into the empty bathroom, gripping my hands onto the sink.

“Goddamn it, Gemma.” I scolded myself.

Telling Alejandro about the Hamptons would make his plans to leave all the more difficult. How would he react to both the kiss and me staying here? Would that look as though I picked a side? I hadn’t picked anyone, not yet at least, and the more I thought about it, the more it hurt.

The only answer I continued to fall on was being honest, honest in a way that he expected from himself and St. La Vie, convincing me that it would always feel dirtier to be lied to than to admit the uncomfortable truth.

Decidedly, I’d stay with Alejandro, I’d tell him the truth and deal with the consequences; that’d be my first step. And as much as it’d hurt, it’d at least be in my control, my choice, my action. I dabbed my face with a paper towel, twisting it into a ball before tossing it into the trash.

I took one final breath before leaving and making my way back to the table, stopping.

I was immediately confused, unable to decipher everything I saw in the split second that it took for me to turn the corner.

Alejandro was staring out the window, his back turned from me, captivated by a large billboard in the middle of Times Square.

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