Sylvain Reynard - Gabriel’s Inferno

“You look happy this morning.” Scott poured Julia a glass of orange juice as she sat down.

“I am. I really am.”

“Make sure he treats you right,” he whispered, his expression serious.

“He has changed, Scott. He…loves me.” She spoke in a low voice so no one else could hear.

Scott gazed at her in surprise. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, changing the subject.

“Simon was supposed to have a bail hearing yesterday. His lawyer was trying to have him released.” He looked at Julia cautiously. “I haven’t been able to find out what happened.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but when they did, she was seized with anxiety. She knocked her orange juice over accidentally, turning her breakfast into a sticky, juice soaked disaster.

She blinked rapidly as she tried to regain her composure, trying to mop up her latest mess, cursing herself for being such a bundle of nerves.

Gabriel has to be tired of watching me drop things. I am such an idiot.

Before she could stand to her feet, a hand appeared in front of her face.

Julia looked up into a pair of concerned sapphire eyes. Gabriel moved his hand slightly, encouraging her to take it. He pulled her into his side and seated her on a different bar stool, kissing her forehead quickly.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered. “I won’t let him near you.” For good measure, Gabriel rubbed her arms up and down comfortingly.

While Richard prepared another waffle, Gabriel picked up her ruined breakfast and headed to the sink.

“I’ll do that. Sit with your girl.” Scott’s voice was low and gruff at Gabriel’s elbow. “And I’m sorry.”

No one noticed the subtle exchange between the two brothers — the prodigal son and the son of constancy. Their eyes met and a look of understanding and perhaps even forgiveness passed between them. Gabriel nodded gratefully and took a seat by Julia, wrapping his arm around her waist and murmuring soothing words in her ear until she stopped shaking.

He had to get her out of Selinsgrove.

As they drove away, Julia closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been an emotional morning. Saying good-bye to her adoptive family was always difficult. And saying good-bye to her father after the weekend’s events was exhausting.

“Are you sorry to leave?” Gabriel reached over to stroke her cheek.

She opened her eyes. “Part of me didn’t want to leave. Part of me couldn’t wait to put everything behind me.”

“I feel the same way.”

“What did my dad say to you when he shook your hand?”

Gabriel shifted in his seat. “He thanked me. He said he knew you could have been hurt a lot worse.” Gabriel threaded his long fingers through Julia’s, pulling her hand to his lips so that he could kiss it. “He asked me to keep an eye on his little girl. He said you were everything to him.”

That made a tear run down Julia’s cheek. She wiped it away and looked out the window. Things with her father had certainly changed.

On the flight back to Toronto, Julia cuddled up to Gabriel, eschewing her homework to rest her head on his shoulder.

“I need to make arrangements for our trip,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“When will we leave?”

“I’d planned on leaving as soon as classes were over on Friday. But if you’re coming, I’ll need to wait until after Katherine turns in your grade.

My lecture is on December tenth. Could we leave on the eighth?”

“I think so. I have to submit essays on Friday, and Katherine is expecting a draft of part of my thesis then too. I’m assuming she’ll submit my grades within a few days, so I could probably leave on the eighth. When were you planning on coming back?”

Gabriel moved his arm so that it was wrapped around her and she was resting her head against his shoulder. “Rachel is adamant about having everyone home for Christmas. That includes you. So we would have to leave Italy on the twenty-third or the twenty-fourth and bypass Toronto for Philadelphia. Unless you’d rather spend Christmas in Italy, with me.”

Julia laughed. “Not at the risk of incurring the wrath of Rachel. And my dad is expecting me, even though he knows I can’t stay at his house.”

She shivered involuntarily.

Gabriel squeezed her. “Then you can stay with me. We’ll reserve a room at a hotel. I’m not sleeping across the hall from you ever again.”

She blushed at his remark and smiled.

“We’ll have two weeks to enjoy Florence. Or we can travel to Venice and Rome, if you wish. We could rent a villa in Umbria. I know of a place near Todi that’s very beautiful. I’d like to show it to you.”

“As long as I’m with you, my love, I don’t care where we are.”

His lips tightened momentarily. “Bless you for that,” he murmured.

“Rachel is scheduling the wedding for late August, provided the venue they want is available. I wonder why she wants to wait so long.” Julia was fishing to see if Gabriel had any information.

He shrugged. “Knowing Rachel, she’ll need months to make sure the proper people are notified and the wedding is featured on cnn.”

They both chuckled.

“I think Rachel wants to start a family soon,” said Julia. “I wonder what Aaron thinks of that.”

“He loves her. He wants to marry her. He’s probably excited at the thought of the love of his life carrying his child.”

He paused for a moment, turning to face her. “Julianne, does it trouble you that I can’t…?”

“Not really, at least not right now. I want to finish my master’s, then work on my doctorate. I’d like to teach.” She shrugged. “Perhaps this is the benefit of dating a younger woman.”

Gabriel snorted. “You make me sound antique. You realize that when you’re thirty you will probably change your mind, if not sooner. And when that happens…”

She frowned and shook her head. “What do you expect me to say — that I don’t want you? I’m not going to say that. I love you, Gabriel, all of you. Please don’t push me away when we’ve finally gotten close.” She closed her eyes. “It hurts.”

“Forgive me,” he whispered, kissing the back of her hand.

She accepted his apology and tried to relax, weary from the day’s emotions.

Gabriel rubbed at his eyes so that he could think. But he soon realized that he needed space and time away from her in order to do that.

I won’t need to push you away when I tell you about Paulina…

* * *

The first week of December was the last week of classes. It was a quiet week, for the most part. Gabriel and Julia dutifully kept their distance from one another. Every evening he prepared his lecture for the Uffizi Gallery in his spacious condominium while she worked tirelessly on her essays and her thesis in her tiny hobbit hole.

They texted one another mercilessly:

Darling, I miss you. Come over?

Love,

G

Julia smiled at the screen of her iPhone in such a way that even the iPhone blushed. Then she typed her reply:

G, I miss you too. I’m finishing an essay for this crazy Dante seminar I’m taking. I’ll probably be up all night.

The professor is hot but demanding. I love you,

Julia

She turned her attention back to her laptop as she continued editing her essay for Katherine. Within a few minutes, her iPhone was chirping again:

Darling, You’re in luck — I am a Dante specialist.

Why don’t you bring your essay over here and I will help you with it…all night…Love, G

P.S. How hot?

Julia giggled at his message and hit reply:

Dearest Dante Specialist, My professor is hot like fire, scotch bonnet peppers, and chicken vindaloo.

I know what your all-nighter would include — and it wouldn’t be finishing my essay.

Rain check for Friday? Love, Your Julia. XO

Julia stared at her iPhone waiting for another text message. But it didn’t come until she was in the bathroom:

Darling Julia, That’s pretty hot. Your rejection of my invitation has reduced me to a sea of loneliness, which I will now chase away with a shot of Scotch and two chapters of Graham Greene.

Your X and O almost make up for it. I Love You, G.

P.S. You are hot like the sun but far more lovely.

Julia smiled to herself and sent back a brief message, telling him how much she loved him. Then she spent the rest of her evening working.

They finally met in person at his last seminar on Wednesday, which was made all the more interesting by Christa Peterson’s conspicuous behavior.

She was quiet. She was still dressed fashionably, in an aubergine-colored cashmere sweater-dress that clung tantalizingly to her chest and derrière.

Her makeup was flawless, her hair long and impeccably groomed. But her expression was sour, and she didn’t take notes. Her arms remained crossed defensively across her ample breasts.

When Professor Emerson asked a question that she knew, she refused to raise her hand. When he looked over the rims of his glasses to see if he could coax her into participating, she scowled and looked away. Were it not for the fact that his mind was on Dante’s Paradiso, he might have grown uneasy. But he didn’t.

Christa was conspicuous not only in her silence but in her blatant hostility toward Julia, for whom she reserved the vilest of glares.

“What crawled up her butt?” Julia whispered to Paul as soon as the class was over.

He snickered. “Maybe she finally realized Emerson will never pass her dissertation proposal so she’s contemplating a career change. There’s a strip club on Yonge Street that’s looking to hire. She might have what it takes to work there. Or not.”

Now it was Julia’s turn to snicker.

“By the way, I like your scarf. Very French.” Paul grinned at her good-naturedly. “A gift from the boyfriend?”

“No. My best friend back home.”

“Well, it looks nice on you.”

Julia smiled at him, and they both packed up their books and walked home through the delicately cascading snow, telling (slightly edited) stories about their separate Thanksgivings.

By Friday, Professor Emerson was in a foul mood. He’d spent almost an entire week without Julianne, and he’d had to watch her walk away with Paul after his seminar, without so much as a glance in his direction.

He had to keep his distance when all he wanted to do was touch her and tell everyone she was his. Sleeping naked in the darkness, the demons had come and nightmares had taunted and oppressed him — nightmares normally held at bay by her very presence, a luminescence unequalled by the brightest star. A star he would soon have to live without.

He knew that he had to tell his secrets before they boarded the plane.

Thus, he rued the fact that his (possibly) last week with Julianne had been spent alone. He’d changed his ticket and made all of the reservations for Julianne to accompany him to Florence, but he did so half-heartedly and not without investing in travel cancellation insurance, for he truly believed that she would leave him. He dreaded the moment when her wide, innocent eyes would darken and she would reject him as unworthy. But he would not allow her to gift her innocence to such a demon unknowingly. He would not play Cupid to her Psyche.

For that would be demonic.

Consequently, it was with undisguised coolness that he greeted her Friday evening when she arrived in time for dinner. He kissed her forehead fraternally and stepped aside, indicating that she should enter.

Abandon hope, he thought to himself.

Julia knew that something was wrong, and it wasn’t solely because she could hear the strains of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly wafting from the living room. Usually Gabriel greeted her with a hug and a few passionate kisses before removing her coat. Instead he stood there, not even making eye contact, waiting for her to speak.

“Gabriel?” She reached up to touch his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” he lied, turning his face away. “Can I get you a drink?”

Julia resisted the urge to nag him for information and instead requested a glass of wine. She hoped he would be more forthcoming over dinner.

He wasn’t. He served their dinner in silence, and when Julia tried to make polite small talk over the roast beef, he responded monosyllabically.