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I try to close the door in Gabriel’s face, but he grabs the handle before I can shut it all the way. I debate my very limited options and let him into the house, because the alternative is my kitchen going up in flames and him seeing Maverick trying to steal his way down the street.
The pancakes are charred on the edges. Two plates sit on the counter. I quickly dump the pancakes into the sink, turning on the water. I hit the button for the fan on the stove and rush over to the window to let in some fresh air and get rid of the smoke.
Gabriel leans against the kitchen doorjamb, his arms crossed. His expression is passive, but he scans the room, eyes landing on the empty plates, then moving to the pair of coffee cups on the counter, and the full pot of coffee that’s been sitting for more than an hour now, because of a distraction in the form of sex.
My stomach flip-flops. If the timing had been different, this could have gone very wrong.
“Am I interrupting?” Gabriel sweeps his hand out.
“Sophia’s coming over for brunch.” It’s not a complete lie. Usually after her Saturday morning sessions, we have a late breakfast or early lunch. Like me, she’s flying out to see her parents later today. We scheduled our flights so we could go to the airport together.
He makes a noise but doesn’t comment otherwise.
“Why are you here anyway? I’ve already told you I’m not giving up the cabin. It’s not up for discussion, and you don’t even like it there.”
“It has sentimental value for me now.” He crosses over to the kitchen table and pulls a chair out. It scrapes loudly across the floor. “Aren’t you going to offer me coffee?”
“No, because I’m not inviting you to stay. This needs to stop, Gabriel. You can’t keep coming over unannounced and expect me to drop everything for you. If this is part of your strategy to win me back, it’s pretty piss poor.”
He drops into the chair, his expression remote. “I see you haven’t calmed down since I was here last. I thought giving you some time to think would be enough, but apparentlyelevatedis your new favorite state when I’m around. You know what might help?” He steeples his fingers under his chin and smiles serenely.
“You leaving would do the trick,” I snap.
He pushes out of the chair and crosses the room in two quick strides. I take a step back and end up against the fridge. Gabriel grabs the handle and boxes me in with his other hand.
“What the hell are you doing?” My heart slams around in my chest. Gabriel was a lot of things when we were married—controlling, subversive, mean, spiteful, and at times verbally abusive—but he was never violent.
“You seem nervous, Clover. What are you hiding?” His expression shifts, and he leans in.
I duck out from under his arm and spin away from him, putting distance between us. “How else am I supposed to feel when you keep showing up uninvited?”
He plucks something from the counter.
A crane.
“This is an interesting new hobby.”
“Stop touching my things.”
He leans against the counter and inspects the paper crane. It’s made from a Scrabble score sheet. Thankfully the number on it is not particularly visible. “When exactly is Sophia going to be here? I didn’t see her car in the driveway.”
“It’s in the shop. Your welcome is worn out, Gabriel. I need you to go. Now.”
“Why must it always be a fight with you?”
“Why must it always be mind games with you?” I shout.
“I don’t deserve this anger. Everything I did, I did for you.”
“Everything you did, you did so you couldcontrolme.”
He sighs and drops his head, shaking it slowly. “I love you, Clover. But you are making it exceedingly difficult to be nice. I gave you space for a year. I didn’t come after you, and I could have—shouldhave, even. The only person you’re making this harder on is yourself.” He takes a step forward, and I pick up the closest heavy object, which happens to be a ceramic gnome I painted when I first moved to Pearl Bay.
They have a little store in town where you can paint and cure things. I don’t really want to ruin it because it marks the beginning of me reclaiming my life, but I’m starting to feel like Gabriel is losing his mind, and I could end up in the trunk of his car if I’m not careful.
He sets the crane on the counter and gives me a disapproving look. “What are you doing?”
“You need to leave. Now.”
