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He's quiet for a moment before asking, "Does she want to come to my place?"
Well, shit, that's a good question. I hadn't thought about the fact these two probably don't want to see each other after last night.
"Honestly, I haven't asked her. She's in the shower. I assumed she'd be safe with you and would want to see her mom and brother."
Again silence.
"What's your plan, August?"
"If all the evidence is lined out and showing that Robert Grand and Eduard were planning to commit securities fraud, the plan is to have the feds come in right away before they have time to run. I doubt you have anything linking Ethan to that fraud, so I plan to confront him and get his confession in person."
"Recording someone without their knowledge wouldn't be admissible in court."
"Yeah, I know that. I plan on being on camera.
So, if Gianna says yes, can I drop her off at your place?"
I hear him heavily exhale before he reluctantly says, "Sure." And the line goes dead.
Normally I'd be pissed with someone just hanging up on me, but I get it. I thought I lost Gianna when I was tied up in the basement, and I've only known her for a couple of weeks. I can't imagine losing her after a decade. But that's on him. He had his time, and he squandered it. Someone who has known her for so long should have known that his timing wouldn't go unnoticed. Gianna hasn't had an easy life. But, like me, she learned to read between the lines early. Everyone wears multiple masks. The true talent lies in identifying their intent for deception, and she did with him.
When the doorbell rings, I'm momentarily caught off guard before I remember that I ordered clothes to be delivered for Gianna. Heading toward the door, I hear the shower shut off.
The minute I saw her in that gown Ethan had bought her, I was enraged. I wanted to be the one to spoil her and buy her nice things, and now I have my moment. While it will be short-lived, at least I have it. If everything goes as it should, Gianna is about to be a wealthy woman in her own right.
I'm just bringing all the clothes into the room when Gianna exits the bathroom wearing a towel on her head and one wrapped around her body. I swear I've never seen a prettier woman than the one right here without a trace of makeup on.
"What's all of this?"
"Well, you're more than welcome to wear my clothes all day, but I thought you might want some of your own items to keep here."
She walks toward the bed where I've laid out the bags.
"August, these aren't my things. These are things you've bought me. I don't need a handout. I don't expect you to buy me things just because we are together."
Okay, I didn't see anger being an emotion that would come forward when I saw this play out in my head.
"Gianna, I bought all this so that you’d have things here when you stayed. I want to buy you things. I want to spoil you. Please don't make this into anything more because it's not."
Walking over to her, I pull her into my arms and place a kiss on her lips. She hugs me back before placing her head on my chest.
"Can I ask you something?"
That makes me smile because now I know I've got her.
"I'll let you ask me something if you accept these gifts I bought you."
She pulls out of my arms and walks over to the bed to take a seat. I watch as she nervously fiddles with her fingers.
"Does it make me a bad person if I'm relieved that my father is dead?"
That was not the question I was expecting. Making my way over to the bed, I sit down and take her hand in mine. Rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand, I choose my next words carefully. On the plane, I had time to reflect on the events surrounding Carson's death and how her death ultimately made me feel, and I can't help but think maybe her grief toward her dad is similar to mine.
"I think sometimes the people we care about have a way of hurting us deeply. In the beginning, we make excuses for their behavior. Then, we blame ourselves for how they treat us or how we let them treat us, but eventually, we become numb to the pain. Once the pain disappears, we're left with anger and resentment, which eats us alive. So, to answer your question, no, I think relief is a perfectly natural response to your grief. You know you'll no longer be tormented with anger and resentment."
I watch as she fiddles with our hands. Lacing our fingers together just to unlace them again. My heart can’t help but feel bewitched by this simple action. It makes me smile on the inside that I get to be this guy for her. I get to be her confidant.
"Thank you."
