Wasted Vows Page 30
“What?” Gabe took a step forward. “A home wrecker. We’re —”
“Stop it,” I whispered, then raised my voice. “Please, just stop it. I didn’t sign up for this. I don’t want to be involved. I’d never destroy a family.”
“You heard her,” Faith said, jerking her thumb in my direction.
I sank into a nearby chair because my rubbery legs simply could not support me anymore. Red. The color of my face and neck. I wouldn’t be surprised if I broke out in hives from the shock and stress. I felt every hope and dream I’d had about Gabe going up in smoke, just like that night my oven had caught fire.
I wanted answers from him. No. I didn’t want anything from either of them. I just wanted to be alone to lick my wounds and see if any of the razor sharp pieces of my shattered existence could be glued back together.
I held my cold palms to my heated cheeks and glanced outside again. My eyes were more comfortable anywhere else than on either of them — the pair of archers who had driven their hate-filled arrows straight to the center of my heart. The bakery was empty of its usual smells and sounds. Sunlight glanced off the snow outside, a gap in the grey clouds that had deposited the drift on the street. Cars and people crunched by, making dirty tracks in the white.
“Get out,” I stammered and nodded toward the door. “Both of you. You need to leave.”
“I have to get up without my cupcake? I was so looking forward to trying the Dark Chocolate Decadence. How inconvenient,” Faith groaned, then braced her palms on the table and made a big show of shifting her bulk out of the chair.
Oh my God.
The night we’d made cupcakes and then made the most incredible love of my young life came crashing back in painful waves. Dark Chocolate Decadence. Gabe licking the rich frosting from my naked body. I’m never going to bake that flavor again.
And a son. He was about to be a father.
I looked up at Gabe. “You too,” I rasped. I wouldn’t let either of them see me cry. Especially her.
Codsworth ambled out of the kitchen with a pert meow. He rubbed against my leg and curled around my ankles, blinking up at me with yellow eyes.
“Come on, darling, let’s go,” Faith said, patting him on the arm as she ambled past. “I’m allergic.”
“Allegra, please, hear me out.” Gabe clenched his fists, released and then clenched them again until his knuckles were white.
“No.”
Chapter 22
Ally
“I’m not leaving.” Gabe glared at me, letting the fists go and stepping towards me with his palms outstretched. “I can’t until you hear me out.”
“Gabe, let’s go,” Faith called from the doorway, holding the glass door back with her palm. “You promised me we’d go to Pacifier and shop for a crib set.”
“Faith …” he warned. “Wait in my car. We can come back and get yours tomorrow.”
“We don’t need to, silly. I used a driver.” Faith rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, then ambled out of the front door and into the snow, clutching her cloak around her shoulders and pulling the soft fur around her neck.
I licked my lips and stared after her, then shifted my focus back to Gabe. “I told you to leave.”
“And I told you I can’t leave. I need you to listen to me, Allegra. You have to know that what we have is real and that this won’t come between us.”
“Won’t come between us?” I repeated, letting the disbelief drip from my tone. “This isn’t like me finding out you’re a fireman instead of a broker. That you rescued me from a burning building and didn’t let on. This, is a full-fledged relationship with a woman carrying your son.”
“That’s bullshit.” He took a step forward and ground his heel into the floor.
“What? Are you denying it?” I fired the question, incredulous. “Gabe, unless she’s sporting one of those weighted sympathy aprons, I’m pretty sure we can’t argue that Faith is pregnant.”
“I’m not dating her, Allegra. I’m dating you. I care about …”
“Don’t you fucking dare say that to me,” I exploded, shaking from head-to-toe. Doused in anger. And sorrow. And shame. Because they were coming.
Please, God, let them stay away until I’m alone. The tears.
Codsworth gave a disdainful meow and wandered back into the kitchen. He didn’t approve of loud noises or arguments. He was a cat. He didn’t approve of almost anything.
“It’s the truth.”
“So you’re not dating her,” I replied. “She said you’ve been together for years and that you love each other. Is Faith lying? If she is, I guess that means you just knocked her up then. And what now? You’re going to raise the child together? Get married?”
“I know you’re angry at me. I didn’t plan for this to happen.”
I nodded. “Yeah, well. I’m not sure what else you want me to say.”
“Allegra, stop,” he grunted, holding out his palms in surrender. “Please, just listen to me.”
“You can beg and plead until you’re blue in the face. In spite of my humble beginnings, I’m not the kind of woman who would do something like this. You have to know that if you’d only disclosed it, none of this would have happened. We could have avoided that ugly scene in the middle of my place of business.”
The scene I’ll remember every time I help a customer as I wait for the pain of your betrayal to wash over me.
“Would it have made any difference if I’d have told you about Faith?” he retorted. “You’ve been waiting for an opportunity to get away from what we have from the start. You would have just used the information against me.”
“You’re absolutely right.” I sighed and backpedaled, putting as much distance between myself and his magnetic pull as possible. How could I still be physically attracted to a man I now despised? Didn’t trust?
Gabe blinked at me, then shook his head. “Allegra, I …”
“I’m fucking delusional. I thought whatever idiotic attraction I felt for you was more than just a passing phase. I thought it ran deeper.”
“It does,” he insisted, taking a huge step forward to close the gap between us.
I leaned right, towards the empty glass counter where I usually displayed the cupcakes so I could avoid him. I ran my fingertips along the smooth glass, grounding myself in the present so I didn’t dwell on the torment knifing through my gut.
“Actually, it’s nothing. What you and I had is nothing and this entire conversation is pointless. I don’t want —”
The bell over the door tinkled and an old woman stepped into the bakery, clutching her purse in front of her. “Hello dear, I was wondering if I could get my hands on one of your Red Velvets?”
I looked at Gabe, then back at the customer. “I’m sorry, ma’am, we’re closed until further notice. But if you leave your name and number, I’ll contact you as soon as we open up again. You can have a Red Velvet on the house.”
“Oh, well that’s all right,” the woman said, then patted at her grey curls underneath a plastic rain bonnet. She reached for the pen and pad I left handy on top of the counter, near the cash register. Leaving one there was a habit I’d gotten into when taking big orders over the phone. I’d almost lost a wedding cake because of the gaffe and I never make the same mistake twice. Which was why Gabe needed to get the hell out of my bakery.
“Yes, and we won’t be closed for much longer. A huge chunk of my schedule has just cleared up,” I said as I shot Gabe a withering look. “And I intend on using every second of it to get my doors back open as soon as possible.”
“That’s great news, dear. You give me a call when you’re open and I’ll bring my entire bridge club,” the older lady said with a wink.
I nodded and waved her out, smiling as if my insides weren’t the approximate consistency of Vanilla Vixen batter. She shuffled her way out of the bakery in her rubber snow boots. I stared at her retreating down jacket as long as I could. Avoiding.
“Allegra,” he murmured.
>
The door swung shut behind the sweet lady and the bell tinkled overhead again. Codsworth gave a doleful meow from the kitchen. Maybe he was out of water, or he wanted a kitty treat. Or, he hated Gabe. I turned towards the kitchen.
Gabe hurried around to my side of the counter and blocked my path.
I froze mid-stride, staring past him because I couldn’t look into those perfect blue eyes now. If I did, I’d burst into the tears I’d been trying mightily to hold back for the past thirty minutes. Since Faith had waddled her very pregnant body in here. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of telling her that I cried. Sobbed. Wailed a torrent of black mascara tears.
“Why are you lying to me?”
“I thought my dad would force me to marry her. He’s always had a soft spot for Faith and made it clear that she’s the one I ‘belong’ with. According to the patriarch of the family, I thought we’d end up together because of this. But that’s not what I want. You’re what I want.”
I recoiled from him. His touch. His very presence.
“I don’t care.”
“I truly believed my fate was sealed, even though I’ve never loved her. Not in that way. Faith’s like a sister to me. I was set to marry her anyway and resign myself to a loveless marriage in order to be a good father to my son,” he said, reaching out to clasp my shoulders. I backed out of his reach again. I couldn’t let him touch me. Weaken me. “After I rescued you from the fire and felt our strong connection, I started dreaming and hoping. I realized that I don’t always have to do what’s expected of me. Especially, if it’s not what’s best for me.”
This was the most he’d opened up in all the time we’d known each other. But it was too little and too late.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about or what you mean.”
“Let me explain. Please, can’t we sit down and talk? Just give me ten minutes. I promise I’ll go after that.” He offered me his hand and bobbed his head in the direction of the chair that Faith had vacated. The memory of her sitting there and gloating stabbed at me. “Allegra … if I don’t get the chance to tell you this, I won’t be able to live with myself. I can’t end things this way.”
“Why should I care about what you want, Gabe? What about what I want? What I deserve?” I injected ice into my tone, straightened my spine and glared up at him.
“You don’t mean that,” he replied, raw emotion tearing the words from his chest. He cared for me on some level, but it couldn’t have been that deep if he’d been willing to lie about Faith.
“Yes, I do. It’s over.” I straightened and moved past him, towards the kitchen and the sanctity of my apartment upstairs. The one he’d saved me from, where it had all began. I had to get away from him and the turbulent ball of emotions about to start rolling downhill. I had to protect myself.
“It can’t be over.”
“It is.”
His expression skewered through me, the utter pain which flickered across his chiseled features were the very same ones that graced my own.
I spun on my heel and strode through the kitchen, up the stairs and into my apartment, leaving Gabe and his perfection behind.
Chapter 23
Ally
“You didn’t have to come over,” I said as I enveloped Kelly in a bear hug. I called her fifteen minutes ago and in the midst of an ugly cry and between heaving sobs, I stammered out the news about Gabe and the heavily pregnant Faith.
“Of course I did,” Kelly replied as she bustled into my tiny kitchen carrying a homemade apple pie and two steaming Styrofoam cups which smelled of coffee. Perfect winter comfort food.
I wrinkled my nose and sighed. I didn’t feel all that festive today, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d let that pie out of sight without putting a dent in it. I was great at cupcakes and Kelly was the master of the apple pie. Or the cherry pie. Or anything with a crust, recipe or no recipe. She just had a knack for it.
“I’m really glad you did come, though,” I admitted, shifting on a chair in front of the counter. I’d been going over the bakery finances and dreaming of a way to pay my small business loans. The police hadn’t come back in a while and I was too stubborn to phone Matthew and find out the results of the pending investigation.
Kelly placed the pie on the counter beside me, then handed me a cup of coffee. “One sugar with plenty of cream, just how you like it.”
“You’re the best,” I cooed and popped the plastic lid on the coffee. I took in one hot sip and bathed in the glory of the homemade hazelnut cappuccino.
Kelly rooted around in the cupboards in search of plates and a chef’s knife. She brought them out, dished a piece of pie and chewed her bottom lip. “I forgot the whipped cream. Should we warm these up first?”
“I’m too desperate for sugar to wait,” I replied.
Kelly laughed and dished out a second piece, then handed it over with a fork. She followed suit and lowered herself onto the stool beside mine.
“Okay, spill,” Kelly said.
If it’d been anyone else, I would’ve told them to go away and leave me in peace. Not with Kelly. She wasn’t after the juicy gossip, she was there to talk it out, just like she’d been there after the shit storm with Matthew. Kelly cared about me and my life and some days it felt like she was a party of one.
I forked off a piece of apple pie and chewed, savoring the tang and sweetness which married on my tongue. I stared down at the ledgers and then shifted my gaze to the open doorway and the small window. The snow had stopped, but the streets were still coated in white.
The clock ticking on the wall said night was about to fall. An entire day of misery. I hadn’t had the nerve to call my best friend until I’d used up the majority of my tears. I wanted most of the emotion out of the way so we could talk about the facts and rationalize that Gabe was a loser and I never had to see him again.
Him or any other man ever again.
I cleared my throat. “I can’t believe this happened again. I’m a douche magnet.” The tears came again — maybe an afternoon of crying wasn’t enough to get rid of this kind of pain — and I swiped at them. I couldn’t hide them from Kelly anyway.
“Tell me about it. Is it Gabe?”
“It’s over between us,” I said.
“Why? What happened?” Kelly asked, then put her plate on the counter. She held the fork poised to break off another piece.
“He got another woman pregnant.”
“What?” She dropped the fork with a clatter, and it bounced from the surface of the plate to the floor below. “He cheated on you?”
“Well, no. Yes. I don’t know. I’m really not sure if he’s together with her now, but the fact of the matter is, he got her pregnant.”
“Who is this woman?” Kelly frowned, and bent over to pick up the fork. She brushed it off, shrugged and tucked into more of the apple pie. “Three second rule.”
I smiled through my tears, grateful for Kelly’s ability to lighten the somber mood. “Her name is Faith,” I could barely spit the name out between my clenched teeth. I had to control this jealousy. God, it wasn’t like he was my fiancé. He was just a guy. A super sexy fireman who’d broken my heart because I was in a vulnerable place right now. Other women had flings all the time and moved right on. Why couldn’t I?
Because this hurt worse than when Matthew dumped me. It hurt worse than anything I’d ever felt before. The death of hope and the possibility that I could ever be with a man like Gabe.
“Faith,” Kelly murmured, “that’s kind of ironic.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, she’s probably eight months pregnant. Not that I’d know, right? It’s not like I’ll be popping out any babies any time soon.”
Kelly looked into my eyes and I shied away from the concern in her gaze.
“Ally, you can’t make this about your own inability to conceive. It’s got nothing to do with what happened in the past.”
“How can you say that? It feels like it has everything to do with what h
appened in the past. He wanted a woman who could give him a child. A son.”
“Ally, get real, he doesn’t know about what happened between you and Matthew. Not the real story anyway. This sounds like a bizarre and painful coincidence.”
“She’s still a part of his life,” I said as I firmed my jaw. I wouldn’t yield the point.
“What should he do, disown her? Throw his baby and its mother out in the street? At least he’s taking responsibility for the mistakes he’s made. That’s more than I can say for a lot of men I know. Think of how many single mothers we know that aren’t that fortunate.”
I tilted my head to one side and avoided her gaze. “Yeah, well, Faith and Gabe are perfect for each other.”
“It’s not about them being a couple,” Kelly said, then huffed out a breath of air, ignoring my surly tone. “Look, this is a big shock, but it’s not insurmountable. Maybe you shouldn’t give up just yet.”
I forced the chair back and stood, then slammed my plate down on the counter and turned away from her. “That’s your solution? Not to give up?” I shook my head and wiped more tears from beneath my lower lids. “Then you don’t get it, Kelly. He lied to me. And this wasn’t the first time. He had the choice to tell me about this woman and he made the wrong one.”
“I understand you’re upset and you feel betrayed.” Kelly replied, reaching out to grab my hand. She turned and rose to stand in front of me. “Maybe he was afraid of losing you if he confessed. He probably thought you’d see it as a complication and leave him.”
“Exactly. It isn’t something you can hide, so why prolong the pain? Even with the baby in the picture, he still lied again. The first time about his job and now this one is even worse. If that’s even possible.” I chewed my bottom lip. Kelly’s logical replies had planted a tiny seed of doubt. Kelly was rational, and she was married. What if she was right?
“Did you give him a chance to explain his motives?”
“Kelly,” I said, deepening my tone.
“Fine,” she replied, then threw her hands up in the air. “I’ll butt out. For now. I’ll just listen instead of bringing the solutions.” She tittered a laugh, then grabbed me by the shoulders. “As long as you know that I’m here for you. Always.”