Page 84 of Bitter Sweet Heart


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But none of that changes the fact that he’s currently in their home.

I cross the room, heading for the closet where we keep the broom, but Gabriel stops me. “Stay where you are, love. I wouldn’t wantyouto end up hurt.”

I ignore him and bend to pick up the bigger shards, setting them carefully on an empty plate on the counter. I’m about to bend again, but his arm encircles my waist, and he lifts me off my feet. Gabriel fireman-carries me around the island, then sets to cleaning up the mess.

My mother and Nicki, my brother’s girlfriend, stand off to the side, seeming unsure what to do. Nicki hasn’t been around long enough to know Gabriel, and he’s generally not a topic of conversation. He dumps the pieces in the garbage, then grabs a fresh glass from the cupboard, all while chatting with my mother and Nicki like it’s totally normal that he’s showed up out of the blue.

“Are you visiting your parents?” my mother asks, trying desperately to be polite.

“I am. I have some business in town, so it made it easy to spend a few days with them.”

“How are Sylvie and Jacob? I haven’t seen them since we ran into you in the fall.”

I glance between my mother and Gabriel, tugging at the collar of my shirt. It’s suddenly hard to breathe. “When was this?” I ask.

My mother waves a hand in the air. “A while back. Early October, maybe. We were at the same restaurant. They invited us to join them.” Again, there’s apology in her voice.

I wonder if that’s how Gabriel found out I was in Chicago. It would make sense, timeline-wise. As upset as I’d like to be, I’m aware that Gabriel is very good at getting information out of people and then using it against them. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask my mom. I could really use that drink now.

“You weren’t being very reasonable at the time, were you, now, love?” Gabriel cuts in. “I was still hoping things would change.” He crosses the room and folds my hands around the glass, his gaze dropping to my throat. He reaches out and fingers the crane charm on my necklace, and it’s everything I can do not to throw the wine in his face and slap him.

“Don’t touch me,” I grit through clenched teeth.

The right side of his mouth quirks up in a smile as he lets it drop back into place. “Is that new?”

“It was a gift from Sophia.” I clasp it between my fingers.

“Hmm . . . Interesting. Seems a very intimate gift from a friend.”

“We’ll give you two a minute,” my mother says.

“I’ll be right out to join you,” I call after her. As soon as I hear the door to the back porch close, I take a step back.

"Where did that necklace really come from?”

I ignore the question. “You need to leave. Now.”

“That would be rude, considering your mother invited me to stay for a drink.” He picks up his glass of scotch, ice tinkling as he takes a sip. “She’s very worried about you, you know.”

“You need to stay the hell away from my family.” I remind myself that he likes to twist words, and that he’s likely trying to stir up shit and make me question my parents’ loyalty. “And me.”

“Darling, you need to calm down. I came here because I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas. It’s the holidays. I’ll have this one drink and leave.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to respond, just turns around and heads for the back porch. And he doesn’t stay for one drink. In fact, he stays for dinner, because his parents celebrate on Christmas Eve and they’re out with friends tonight, he explains. And he doesn’t really give my parents an opportunity to say no.

During dinner, Gabriel presents as the charismatic man I naively fell in love with, and it’s infuriating. The only person who seems to see him clearly at the moment is my brother, Blaine, but when his girlfriend ends up sauced before dessert, they head back to their hotel, leaving me with Gabriel and my parents.

I help my mother clear the table, and my dad, ever oblivious, invites Gabriel out back to look at his new lawn tractor. It’s the first time since Gabriel arrived that he hasn’t been glued to my side—apart from the two minutes I was in the bathroom.

My mother looks over my shoulder, making sure we’re alone, but I shake my head and grab her hand, pulling her down the hall to her bedroom. I close the door behind us, lock it, then continue to the bathroom, putting the barrier of extra doors between us and prying ears.

I hate how paranoid I am right now.

“What’s going on?” Mom asks as I press my back against the door.

“He makes me feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Honey, are you okay?” Her hands come to rest on my shoulders. “What is happening right now? I thought you two were getting a divorce. Did you change your mind?”

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