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A lump forms in my throat. At this rate, not falling in love with him will be extremely hard.
After putting our bags away, we stuff two plates with food Mrs. Baton prepared and take a bottle of wine outside. We have dinner on the beach watching the sunset. The orange glow on the horizon is so beautiful, it takes my breath away.
“You must have been under twenty-five when you bought this island. Was that a dream you had?”
Gabriel is silent for so long, I think he will not answer.
“I grew up in a home. When I was about twelve, it was declared too old to maintain safely, so I moved to another home. There was little privacy. So, kind of. I promised myself that when I made enough money, I’d get a place where I could stay by myself whenever I wanted.”
I can’t imagine being alone for long periods of time. My parents have always been around me. Even if we weren’t in the same room, I liked knowing someone was in the house.
Gabriel must enjoy being on his own. At work, he doesn’t go out with the other workers like the managers do. He eats alone, at his desk.
“What’s the longest you stayed here by yourself?”
“One month. It’s hard to get away for longer than that.”
“You were only nineteen when you sold your first computer program and became a millionaire. You must have worked hard all your teenage years. You still do. Don’t you get tired and want to give it all up and retire?” I’ve always wanted to know.
He was the first to arrive at work and the last to leave. I’ve always felt a little sad seeing him slog like that, especially during the holidays.
“I love programming. It’s my work and hobby.” He takes a sip of wine, then looks at me. “I ran away from my home when I was sixteen. I caught one worker abusing a young boy.” He shrugs.
“I suppose I should have ignored it, but I couldn’t. The staff member tried to intimidate me into being quiet, but I fought back. That’s how I got the scar.”
“You must have been terrified!” What horrors did he go through?
He shrugs again and my heart breaks a little for the boy he must have been.
“It was life. The kid refused to testify, but there were signs of abuse on him, so the staff member was arrested. Since then, the carers looked at me differently. So did the other kids. I figured I’d be better off on my own and left. So, while most other kids my age were going to school, I was developing my own programs. When I turned eighteen, I sold them.”
In the semi-darkness, he looks awkward, making me wonder if he’s ever talked about this before. There’s nothing about it in the interviews he’s done. It’s common knowledge he’s a high school drop-out and took the GED when he was eighteen, but not the reason.
“No wonder you’re an inspiration to young people across the globe. I was gutted when my parents passed and I had to drop out of school to care for Oscar. Coming across your company and it’s policy to hire anyone with the right skills regardless of education level, gave me hope. I decided then and there I was going to work at Cross Tech. Your story inspired me.”
“I’m glad,” he says, his voice thick like molasses.
“Thank you for telling me your story.”
“I want you to know the real me. Being honest with each other will help our family and marriage.”
The more time I spend in his company, the more I appreciate his idea of a good marriage. It’s not perfect; I don’t think a relationship can ever be great without love. Yet, being honest with each other will make our relationship, whatever it is, better.
Still, can a clause in a contract really solve all problems? There’s no way I can tell him to stop treating Oscar as family because his care and attention is already making me fall a little in love with him.
CHAPTER FOUR
Gabriel
I SWIM MY twentieth lap and get out of the sea. The water is warm, and the sun beats down on my back. I stare at the sky, enjoying the fresh air and the smell of the sea. When I reach the large mat spread on the beach, under an enormous umbrella, I grab a towel and rub myself dry.
I head back to the house, wondering if Harper is awake. Yet, as soon as I walk in, I sense the quiet of the house. I pad to the bedroom, careful not to wake her. She's sleeping on her front, with her arms crossed on the pillow; her head lying on them.
She's always busy doing something or another; it's strange to see her so still. I'm tempted to step in farther and examine the bow of her mouth, little upturned nose and arched eyebrows, but I don't want to wake her.
I move to the kitchen and get breakfast ready. There’s bacon and sausages in the refrigerator so I warm them up and fry eggs, sunny side up, making a note to ask how she likes them.
I remember telling her about how I got my scar and I grimace. I've never told anyone about that. It was hard and cringy, yet I wanted her to know about my life.
