Текст книги "Pure Abandon"

Автор книги: Jeannine Colette

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

I don’t have the energy to get dressed up. Jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of Converse are all I can manage. For the first time in a while, I look like me again.

Exiting the elevator to the twenty-fourth floor, I notice an immediate change. I can see the redhead.

The flowers?

They’re gone.

The thought brings me a surreal kind of sadness. One I wasn’t expecting.

For the first time since I started working at Asher-Marks Communications, I do what I’ve never done. I finish my work. I lock my door and put my headphones in my ears and listen to music as I write every document, answer every email, create timelines, contact sheets, script pages, prepare itineraries, and create packets beyond packets of information for everyone involved. I only remove my earbuds to make calls to vendors.

Contracts are faxed and sent directly to legal for approval. Gretchen emailed me all the information I requested, so I’m able to get green room and transportation requests in order. Harvey sent me the revised speeches, and I forward everything Erik requested.

Relief floods through my veins at the feeling of accomplishment. Sure, the event is still two weeks away and everything will have to be updated, but to have completed so much so far, I feel confident in my decision.

I grab my files and walk down the hall to Erik’s office. The door is open, but I knock anyway.

Erik is seated at his desk, looking over his computer screen. His hair tied in a ponytail, he’s wearing his signature black. He looks up, surprised to see me standing there.

“Kat, come in. I was just looking over the files you sent me.” He motions for me to take a seat.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll stand. I came to drop off my hard copies and give you my resignation.” I wanted to get the words out before I lost my nerve.

Erik sits there taken aback by my announcement. “Is this because of what I said to you last week?”

“Partly.” I let out a breath. “I have a few personal matters to attend to, and I’m afraid I haven’t been giving you my all. I’ve always given a hundred and ten percent.”

His mouth bends and he lets out a heavy sigh. “This will have to be your two-week notice, then. The concert is in that much time. I’m afraid I can’t let you go before then. You’re under contract.”

I bite my lower lip. I can’t stay here. “If I stay, it will be a… conflict of interest.” I wonder how much he knows.

Erik shakes his head in confirmation. He knows. His fingers tap on the files I placed on his desk. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to complete the task at hand, but it looks like you have everything in order.” Erik scoots back his chair. “I was getting some bad advice…” He begins to explain.

I hold up my hand to stop him. I don’t want to hear what kind of lies Heather has been spilling about me. I’ve had enough, and it’s time to move on. “Please, Erik. I don’t need to know what people say about me behind my back.”

“No, I suppose you don’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have taken off with Alexander Asher for three days,” he says, seeming uncomfortable bringing it up.

If feeling degraded were an outfit, I’d say I wore it from head to toe. “Erik, that was for business. I swear.” Even though I’m leaving, I don’t want him to think wrong of me.

“I thought you were different, Kat.” He can’t look me in the eye. The one person in this building who has been nothing but kind and warm toward me, who believed in me from the beginning is let down.

I nod in agreement, my head still hanging low. “I thought so too.”

I make my way back to my office and gather my few small possessions, all of which I brought with me this morning. The room is still as bare as it was the day I started. The only personal thing it bears is a screensaver on my computer of the two people who matter most to me in my life. Two months ago, this room brought me joy and excitement. Now I see it for what it is. Just four white walls and a window.

I turn off my computer and put the chair back in position, clean and neat for the next person who occupies this space. I make my way to the doorframe to take one last look at the room when I see something poke out from under the desk. I bend down on the ground and slide out the beautiful black umbrella with its white pearl handle.

I buried it under there for a reason. Subconsciously afraid to acknowledge what it meant. Afraid of what was happening and knowing I had no control to stop it.

The umbrella has a weight to it I hadn’t noticed before. I grab it and hold it, reliving that day we met in the rain. My life would have turned out differently if we hadn’t met under those circumstances. If the train had arrived on time or if it hadn’t been raining, I would have been at the office on time. Asher and I would have met like a typical boss and colleague. He never would have acted the way he did toward me, and our conversations moving forward wouldn’t have been so heated.

If just one thing had gone otherwise that morning, my life would have turned out much differently. The weight of the umbrella feels unbearable.

What I cannot understand, and I tried to figure out all last night, is how on earth Asher didn’t know I had a son. Malory knows about him. She’s mentioned him quite a few times since I’ve worked here. Have my conversations with Asher been so aloof that I never spoke to him about Jackson?

Freud would have a field day with this. Some people believe there are no accidents; each of our actions has a purpose. In this case, I don’t remember a single moment I purposefully did not mention my son.

I also wonder, had I mentioned Jackson at anytime, would the outcome have been any different? I honestly don’t know.

Grabbing the pearl handle, I head down to reception where I can see my redhead.

“Hey, Kat.” Trish is seated behind the desk, her usual boisterous self deflated. “Shame there are no flowers today.”

She’s a sweet thing. I’m going to miss her. “It is a shame. Gonna miss them, huh?”

“Yeah.” She smiles coyly. “Well, come to think of it, they were getting a bit out of hand. And the smell was starting to give me a headache.” She scrunches her nose and wiggles her head.

I smile. “Yes, they were out of hand. Perhaps now Mr. Asher will put his money to better use.”

Trish nods in agreement. “Listen, Kat, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something…” She pauses mid-thought to answer the phone. I place my ID badge and office keys on the counter. Her face shoots up and her mouth fumbles as she talks to the caller on the other end. “No, sir, she hasn’t… Yes, she’s standing right in front of me… I’ll send her right up.” Trish hangs up the phone. “Mr. Asher needs to see you immediately.” Her voice is stern.

I wasn’t planning on facing Asher today, or ever again for that matter. “Call him back and tell him I already left.”

“No way. I already told him you were here. And he called down here personally. My ass is grass if you don’t go up there, and you know it.”

I let out a deep breath from deep inside my gut and surrender. She’s right.

“I’ll be right back.” I step away and take the elevator up to face him. What do I say to him? What does he want to know? Surely he hates me, and I can’t blame him.

The elevator stops on the floor and as the doors open, I can already hear his voice. “Where is she? Is she on her way up?” He’s standing at the reception desk next to Cecilia. I take a step toward them.

“Kathryn.” His resolve quickly morphs from exasperated to steel. He’s wearing his favorite black suit and looks the epitome of control except for how his collar is bunched up at the back of his neck. He looks back at Cecelia and decides we don’t need an audience. He opens his office door and directs me, “In.”

I comply and walk into his office but stop not far beyond the door. No sooner does he close the door behind us then I am immediately overwhelmed with emotion.

Keep it together, Kat.

I try to look around the room. There is the bar and the fancy TV screens. I see the small conference table, the seating area, and the wall where the Crux Gemmata is displayed beautifully. I take another look at the artwork. Its gemstones of emerald, gold, and sapphire pierce my brain, and I’m reminded of the awful mess I’ve made. My beautiful blue-eyed husband and this golden god and everything they’ve done to my life. My alpha and omega.

Focusing on the art, I use it as a distraction not to look over at him. My head is craned so far to the right as I feel him moving around me, circling like a hunter on its prey.

I let out a deep breath and turn slowly toward him. I open my mouth to speak, but there are no words.

Deep, dark circles line his eyes. “You’re leaving?” he asks.

“I have to.” I close my eyes. I didn’t think seeing him would be painful. “I hurt you, Asher. I hurt a lot of people.”

“You lied to me.” His jaws are clenched, but his voice sounds pained. “I bared my soul to you. I told you things I never shared with anyone, yet you held back the most important piece of you.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I promise you will never have to see me again.”

Asher flinches like my words hit him with an iron brick. He closes the gap between us, his head bent down, looking right into my eyes. “Did you mean what you wrote me in the note?”

I look at him, confused.

“You wrote, ‘You make my life make sense.’ I’ve kept it my pocket since you gave it to me.” He looks down and pulls the note out of his pocket. There it is in his hand, that Asher stationary I sent him with the bottle of intoxicating cologne. The words were a cute play on the gift. They didn’t mean anything at the time. Not to me at least. Not then.

My bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know what makes sense anymore, Alex.”

He smiles at my use of his first name. That’s our way of knowing we’re okay.

Looking down at my hand, Asher notices the umbrella. I hand it over to him. “Part of the no-gift policy,” I say with a shy smile. He knows better than to argue with me over this. He takes the pearl handle and places the umbrella on the floor by the door. If I didn’t know him so well, I would miss the wounded expression that creeps across his face.

He looks back at me. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a son?”

I shrug my shoulders. It’s the question I’ve been asking myself all weekend. As confused as I am about why he never knew, the truth is once he found out I had a son, he freaked out. That is the type of man he is. He wants no strings attached. Fooling around with a married woman was the perfect situation. But throw in a child and you change the game. That is a major string. He reacted just like I thought he would.

Confused and ashamed, I turn my body and start to head toward the door, when a strong hand lands on my shoulder and forces me back around. My body swivels around and into him, landing on his hard chest and staring up into the unwavering eyes of Alexander Asher.

“I never thought I’d find someone like you,” he says. I draw my hand up to his lips to stop him from speaking, but he grabs my finger and pulls it away. “No, Kat, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I don’t know what is going on with you, with us…” He pauses. “But I can’t lose you.”

His hand holds tight to my cheek, and I try to gently pull away. “I was never yours to lose.” The words are as painful coming off my tongue as they are for him to hear.

He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head. “No. I need you. I told you that. I need you, any way I can get you.” He opens his eyes and stares through my soul. Full lips so close to mine. I remind myself I can’t lose myself in him again. His words are surprising. I thought he’d be disgusted by me. I thought he’d need me gone. Instead, he’s asking for me any way he can get me.

I step away from his hold and back up a few feet. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t quit. I have you under contract.”

Two more weeks of this? It will be difficult to look at him every day. It will be too much to look at Erik, Malory, and Heather. I can’t bear the rumors.

He won’t let me walk through the door, so I round him and make my way toward the bar. I grab a glass and the first bottle I see. As long as it’s strong, I don’t care what it is.

Asher watches as I hastily make my drink. His hands in his pockets, he is back to being the one in control. “I’ll let you resign as of today, under one condition.”

Stopping mid-pour, my head shoots up in curiosity.

“Come to the gala as my date. You worked so hard on it and a lot of our contacts are expecting to see your face. The organization needs you.”

I take a large swig and let his words set in. He knows where my soft spot is. I should go to the gala. I forgot how my absence would affect the organization.

“Yes. I will be there.” I can do that.

Asher’s face lights up and he looks relieved for the first time since we were on the beach in Miami. Maybe we can make this work.

“You’ll definitely be there?” He looks at me for confirmation.

“Yes.” I reassure him. “Yes. I will be there.” I’ve already dug my grave. Might as well lie in it. “May I use your restroom?”

He laughs at my simple request, relieved I’m no longer running for the door. “It’s behind you to the left,” he directs.

I take a final swig from my glass and set it down on the bar. In the restroom, I take a second to evaluate myself in the mirror. Yes, she’s still there. Loose hair, T-shirt, jeans, and Converse. Adulteress and mother, but still me.

I know there is no world where Gabriel and Asher can cohabitate, but for one more night, I can do the right thing. Even if that means attending a gala where he will be.

I splash some water on my face and look for a towel to dry with. There isn’t one on the counter. I open a drawer under the sink. Nothing. I try the next and there is one.

Hang on a second.

I go back to the first drawer and open it again. How did that get here?

I put my hand into the drawer and pull out the exact pair of black women’s underwear that have been causing me to lose sleep.

What the fuck? Either this is a very popular brand of women’s undergarments, or there is something completely fucked up about this situation.

I exit the restroom with the panties hanging from my index finger. Asher is still standing by the bar. He turns from looking at the television and his smile disappears.

“Whose are these?” My voice is stern and explicit.

Asher’s face is in a state of shock. His body tightens and his hands rise in defense. “Where did you get those?”

“Who do they belong to?” My voice is deeper, angrier.

“That was from long before this weekend. The relationship is over. I swear.” He takes a few steps toward me, and I take the same steps back.

It doesn’t matter whether these were before, after, or during our time together. It doesn’t matter if they are from his long-lost love or the girl next door. I just need to know whom they belong to.

My fear is I know exactly whose they are. There is only one person other than me who knows both my husband and my boss. It’s all starting to make sense.

“They’re Malory’s,” I state clearly. By his lack of response, I know I’m right.

I throw the vile undergarments in his face and storm toward the door.

“Kathryn, wait.” He takes off after me. “What difference does it make?”

I walk out the office door and catch the waiting elevator. “It makes more of a difference than you’ll ever know.”

I descend to the twenty-fourth floor and stop at my redhead. “You had something you needed to talk to me about?” By the look on my face, she knows I’ve already figured out a thing or two.

Trish doesn’t say a word, but hands me over a stack of emails she printed out. She clearly didn’t only have access to Erik’s files.

There were emails between Malory and Asher. They start when she submitted my resume and boasts about my proficiency and knowledge on site surveys and production planning. Then they start getting creepy. Many are explicit, recounting some of their nights together. I try to figure out why Trish printed them, until I see my name pop up. That one is dated the week after I arrived. She suggests the new girl is “definitely willing to work her way to the top.” Malory had no idea about my true affliction with Asher and the tumultuous relationship we had.

There are others where she’s telling Asher about how my marriage is falling apart and if he’s interested, he should stake his claim. I don’t understand why she would be pushing me toward Asher. I thought she wanted him. And from the words I’m reading, she had him, many times.

Trish also printed a correspondence from Malory to Erik, stating I was unfit for the position and he should reconsider whether I was appropriate to produce the gala. This is dated last week, the day Gabriel came to see me in the office. She was so mad at Heather that day, or perhaps it was really me. And to think, I thought Heather was the one who undermined me to Erik.

It all starts to come together with the final set of emails between Malory and Gabriel. This one is dated the day before his office visit. I didn’t even know she knew him well enough to email him. It seems innocent enough. She’s telling him what a great job I’m doing and how Asher and I did a site survey and how he’s really impressed with my work, even providing me one-on-one mentoring. How did she know I was with Asher that day? And why is she telling Gabriel? That was the night he fell asleep reading the magazine. He came to the office the next day, and I reveled in the fact he was jealous.

She had an agenda, and now so do I.

Emails in hand, I storm my way down to her office and slam the door behind me when I enter. She doesn’t seem concerned that I would even be there. It’s as if she’s been expecting me.

“I thought you resigned,” she states blandly.

“And I thought you were my friend!” I spit out.

Malory leans back in her chair and rests her hands on the arms, willing the confrontation.

I throw the incriminating emails on her desk and hide my phone as I hold it low at my hip. “You brought me here on purpose. You got me this job for a reason. Tell me, was it my career you set out to tarnish or just my marriage? I seem to be a little lost in the details.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Kat. You always did think it was all about you. You just had to have it all.”

“Is this about Asher? I never wanted him, yet you were trying to get me in his bed before I even met him.”

“It was never about Asher. I’ve had him tenfold. I knew you would be easy bait for him. I just never expected the poor bastard to fall in love.”

Fall in love? Asher’s not in love with me. Even if he thought he was, he lost it as soon as he found out about Jackson.

This all couldn’t have been about my career. Why would she hire me just to tear me down? No, she hired me to put me in Asher’s arms. And all for what?

“Gabriel.” I knew it when I found the panties in Asher’s bathroom. “You’re having an affair with Gabriel. You did all of this to drive us apart.”

Her black eyes turn to ice. “No, honey, you’ve still got it wrong. I’ve wanted Gabriel for years. You…you just push him aside like some lame suit that works his ass off to provide you with everything. I did all this to prove to him you’re unworthy of him. And you know what? I was right. You’re just as low as the rest of us. While you were gallivanting with Asher, your husband has been nothing but faithful to you. Trust me, honey, I tried. And I will keep on trying. Because you see, I was right. Gabriel is one of the good guys.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. She is obsessed with Gabriel. It all makes sense now, in a really bizarre way. Someone I idolized for so long just tearing down the bubble in front of my eyes. To think, I thought this was my solace when it turns out to be my hell. I have to know just how evil she really is.

“Last week, you asked if I drove in. You left your underwear in my car. You wanted me to find them. You wanted me to—”

“You did that all on your own, Kat. You were begging for an excuse to fuck Asher. I gave you one.”

I can’t even respond to that comment. Instead, my mind continues to piece it all together. “Did you send those photos?” I breathe out the question with every ounce of disgust I have in my body.

She looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot she ever met. Perhaps I am. “You remember meeting Oswald Thompson in Miami, don’t you?” she asks. I nod. “Ozzie sent those. He’s got a good eye, doesn’t he?”

Oswald Thompson? Why in the world would Oswald Thompson care that I cheated on my husband?

“He’s my contact, Kat. Did you think you were going to go to Miami and take credit for an account I was working on?” she says with both palms placed flatly on the desk, her body leaning toward me. “Bet you also didn’t realize he is Gabriel’s big client.”

Gabriel’s client? I would know that, wouldn’t I?

Malory lets out a wicked laugh. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

My feet are on the concrete pavement of New York in less than five minutes, and the dark skies are peaceful compared to the world I just left behind. I open my iPhone and close the digital recorder app. I send the file to Asher and hope he’ll see Malory for what she’s worth. And if he doesn’t, then it looks like I lost another friend.

Seems like I’m losing a lot these days.

The last five days have been quiet torture. I can’t call Gabriel. I know he’ll just hang up. I can’t email. I know he’ll delete it.

Gwen has been on the phone with Gabriel many times over the last few days. I know this because she scurries into the other room, whispering into the receiver. It doesn’t surprise me. Gabriel needs to know how Jackson is doing. It’s probably killing him to have gone days without seeing the baby. That’s why I suggested Gabriel come to the house after work while I make myself scarce. It’s the least I can do.

I’ve spent my time holed up in the house, feeling sorry for myself. Gwen gives me my space while I process everything that happened. On Monday night, she watched Jackson while I cried myself to sleep. Tuesday, she kept a safe distance while I camped out in the living room with Jackson and watched him build blocks up high and we knocked them straight down. On Wednesday night, she made us two cups of coffee and listened while I told her the story from the very beginning. The last two days, she’s offered me time to reflect.

Today, I have to get out. I started the day with a brisk walk. Jackson and I both enjoyed the fresh air as I whipped out the baby jogger. Then we took a walk to the grocery store in town and started to get a routine back in our lives. It was reminiscent to our lives mere months ago. It seems like an eternity has passed.

As the clock struck closer to Gabriel’s arrival time, I borrowed Gwen’s car and started west. I didn’t know exactly where I planned to go, and traffic was moving so I just kept with the flow. I stop the car in a deserted parking lot overlooking the Long Island Sound.

To my left is the marina. Everything from grand sixty-foot yachts to motorboats and small fishing vessels line the docks. I love looking at the boats, especially the ones drifting in the harbor, waiting to be taken to some exotic destination.

Sailboats.

“Where are we going?” I asked with blindfolded eyes.

Gabe was in the driver’s seat of his Mustang. It was old and made a lot of noise, such a boy car.

“I’m taking you somewhere very important to me. Someplace I want to share with you.” His warm hand grabbed mine and raised it to his lips before falling onto his lap.

In the six months we’d known each other, we’d become inseparable. He waited for me after each class and carried my books everywhere we went. Most of his classes were early in the morning, so he was done before I even began. He even resorted to sitting with me during lunch, twirling my hair in his hands as I told him stories about my childhood and growing up with my dad in the Majors. He was a big Marlins fan and went to quite a few games with his dad.

I felt the car slow down. Gabe let go of my hand as he used two hands to pull into a spot. I heard him get out and close the door behind him. Shortly, my door opened and Gabe’s hand was in mine again, escorting me out of the car.

“Now will you tell me where we are?” I begged. The air was finally warm after months of the autumn chill and winter winds.

“If there is one thing you must know about me, it’s that I love surprises. Consider this the first of many.”

“So that’s a no?” I teased.

“Patience, baby. We’re almost there.” He gently guided me along the walkway. I didn’t know where I was, but I could smell the saltwater and hear seagulls. We were by the water, but where?

We walked a few more feet and stopped. Gabe braced me with both arms. I thought he was going to take the blindfold off. Instead, I felt warm, wet lips on mine. Lips I’d become very familiar with.

When he pulled away, he also took the blindfold off. First, my eyes fixed on his beautiful navy blues. But then they drifted to a different sea of blue. We were at Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.

“Are we going fishing?” I frowned at the idea. I wasn’t much of a sit still, be quiet, and wait for a fish to come type of girl.

“No, we’re going sailing!” His Robert Redford grin turned into a glorious smile. This was definitely something he enjoyed.

“Sailing?” I was impressed.

“It’s my first love.” Gabe pulled my hand and walked me over to, what I later learned, was a 1983 Catalina 25 Swing Keel. Gabe had sailing paraphernalia around his apartment. He mentioned he loved to sail, but this was taking it to a whole new level.

“I had to mow a lot of lawns to afford her.” He stepped onboard and held out a hand for me to join. “I just repainted the hull and the wood has been redone.” His eyes were reflected in the sapphire sail. He was beaming with pride.

“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?” I took a seat on the white leather cushion.

“Breaking Wind.” He cringed a little at the name. “She came with the name, and it’s bad luck to rename a boat.”

I laughed for a solid five minutes. He joined in after about two.

Gabe produced a white plastic bag I hadn’t noticed before. He must have carried it from the car. There was a brown bag inside, a yellow smiley face on the outside. Gabe noticed me eyeing up the bag and explained, “Chinese. You do like Chinese, don’t you?”

Chinese takeout on a sailboat didn’t sound right, but I nodded anyway. “And what would happen if I told you I didn’t like Chinese?”

“Then I’d say I just found your one flaw.”

I laughed and sat back watching him as the wind blew through his hair. His white windbreaker danced in the breeze as we left the dock and started toward the open water.

“So tell me, Gabriel Monroe. Why does a boy from sunny Florida who loves to sail want to go to New York and become a lawyer?”

Gabe’s eyebrows caved in as he took a moment to think about his answer. “I guess because I want more out of life than my parents were able to give me. They struggled, a lot. I don’t want that for my future family.”

Family. You never heard a guy talk about family. It was usually taboo.

“Why New York?”

“I got into NYU Law. Figured I go there for a few years and then head back home.” He turned his gaze from the ocean and back to me. “But I met this great girl from there so, if all goes well, I might stick around.”

I loved that he was already thinking of a future with me. I crawled over to him and took a seat beside him. Gabe’s arm swung around my back and he pulled me in.

“I’d like that.” I kissed him on the neck. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, twenty questions. Me first. Favorite food?” he asked with his fingers twirling in my hair.

“Pizza. My turn. Favorite candy?”

“You.” He smiled and placed a tender kiss on my lips. “And Skittles. Favorite movie?”

“Field of Dreams.” It was my dad’s favorite.

“Me too! That and Braveheart. It’s a guy thing.”

It was his turn to ask a question again. “Worst trait?”

I had to think on that for a second. “Being complacent. When I get mad, I do this weird breathing thing. It works, but sometimes I worry I let things that bother me roll off my shoulders too easily. I wish I were more headstrong. Like you.”

Gabe laughed and shook his head. “That’s not your tell.”

I sat back and squinted my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I can always tell when you’re angry or embarrassed or confused or, better yet, turned on…”

I hit his side. “Okay, I get it. I have a tell. What is it?”

Gabe raised a hand and messaged my earlobe. “Your ears turn red. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Your ears turn various shades from this adorable pink to neon red. They give away every emotion you have.”

“What color are they now?”

“Pink. But I bet you I can make them turn red.” His Robert Redford grin crept across his face.

“You’re gonna try and get me mad?”

“I hope not.”

“Well, then, go ahead.”

Gabe brushed a piece of hair behind my ear and slowly stroked it with his thumb. His eyes looked straight into my soul.

“I love you. From the second I saw you on the steps, I knew you were my forever.”

His words were like poetry in my ears. The beautiful blue-eyed boy with dark wavy hair loved me.

“Your ears are very red, Kat.” Gabe’s eyes searched mine for a response. His brows furrowed and he took a cautious stance, waiting for a reaction.

“They’re also very hot,” I replied.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I love you too.” And I told him so, over and over again, in the confines of a small bed in the galley below.

Sailing in that little boat became a part of our romance. Gabriel even brought it to New York when he started law school. We took a few trips with it on the Long Island Sound, but as his career blossomed, Breaking Wind got neglected. He sold the boat shortly after we were married, and he hasn’t been sailing since.

God, I wish my dad were still alive. I wish I could talk to him just this once and ask him for advice. I want to know if he was as good a man as I thought he was. I want to know if he would have forgiven Gwen for her indiscretions. I want to know how I can right my wrongs.

The problem is I didn’t just wrong Gabriel. I hurt Asher. He trusted me to be his confidant while I held back from him. I let him bare his soul, yet I only gave him a facade of myself. I never let him into my world.