“Sure it is.” Gabriel pushed off the door and stalked closer. “Which one, Emma? We both already know the answer so there’s no point in keeping it secret.”
With each step he advanced forward, I took one back. No matter how spacious the living area was, I was eventually going to run out of room. My smiling, playful Gabriel was long gone as if he’d never been—leaving an avenging angel in his place.
Forgive me, Gabriel, for I have sinned. Against you and me.
“Why are you trying to push me like this? Why can’t you let me be?”
Gabriel finally stopped. So did I. An incredibly poignant mix of fury and sadness overwhelmed his gaze. “Because we won’t make it, Emma, until you can accept me for who I am—flaws and all. And I don’t want that to be the truth, but it is.”
“I do accept you.”
“No, you accept what you think of me but you don’t accept me. And because of that, you don’t trust me. There is no relationship without trust. You know that, Emma. So tell me the truth. What about me don’t you trust? Haven’t I been a good boy? Haven’t I tried so very hard these past few days?”
A tiny sob broke free. I covered my mouth with one hand, humiliated that I’d shown him how much his words affected me.
“Haven’t I, Emma?”
“You’ve been wonderful.”
“Then what is it? Why won’t you trust me? Tell me. If there’s going to be any chance for us, I need to know.”
Panic hit me. I felt trapped. “It’s not an either/or situation, Gabriel. It’s both. I don’t trust you or your money. Not yet.” I paled. I wanted to walk back the words, to silence them. Looking at his face, seeing the devastation erupting across it, I realized I failed the test. “I want to but I’m not there yet. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He stood there, taut as a string on the verge of snapping.
There was no hope for it. I had to come clean. The weekend disappeared as if it never was. I was back to being that hostile girl of seventeen again.
“How many women have you had this year, Gabriel? How many last year? How many the year before that?”
His stare clouded before becoming ruthless and sharp. “The number doesn’t have bearing on you.”
“Wrong. It has everything to do with me. How many times am I going to trip over your exes? I just met you again on Friday and not even eight hours later there was Embry.”
He deflated. “I’m sorry. It was f**ked up, I know.”
“Women are interchangeable to you, to men like you. They’ve always have been. We’re all the same. Throw some money at us and it’ll fix anything, won’t it? Lonely? Here’s my card—go shopping. Bored? Take the car out for a drive. Honey, I’m sorry I blew off dinner. Here’s some lingerie. Why don’t you go put it on so I can make it up to you?”
The muscle in his jaw clenched. “I don’t treat you that way.”
“Because I won’t let you treat me like that. And you know why? Because I’ll never let myself depend on you, Gabriel. I won’t let you become everything to me. I won’t. I can’t.”
“If I lost all my money would I then be good enough for you, Emma? Would that make me a better man in your eyes? Does being poor automatically you a better person?”
I mulishly kept my mouth shut.
“If money is so damned bad, then why are you so ambitious? Why didn’t you stay back home and work as a waitress?”
This I couldn’t let pass. “Because I wanted to make something of my life.”
“And those people aren’t making something of their lives? Why? Don’t they get up just as early and leave just as late? Don’t they work just as hard, harder than you even, because they’re up on their feet all day while you sit in your precious cube?”
I hated how he put me on the defense, easily making me sound just like the snob he accused me of being. “You know what I mean.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly. What you mean is that they aren’t as good as you because they don’t make as much money. And what exactly are you chasing after, Miss Junior Analyst? Money.”
“It’s not the same,” I argued lamely. The ground was sinking under my feet.
“My ancestors felt the same exact way, Emma. They wanted better than what they were born to—just like you. Give it a generation or two and your grandchildren will be just like me. Rich, privileged, and entitled. How ever will you look down your nose at me then?”
I’d never been on the receiving end of Gabriel’s acerbic tongue. I hated it. Miserable, I wanted us to stop the fighting but knew there was no stopping this. It would run its course and whatever survived, survived. What didn’t, didn’t.
“You’re right. I’m trying to work for a better life. You know why? Because being poor sucks, Gabriel.”
“I know it does.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t have the first idea of what it’s like to be down to your last dollar, worried about how you’re going to stretch that until payday. Everything you’ve ever wanted has been there for the taking.”
“Except you.”
I swallowed hard. “Is that why you fixated on me all those years ago, Gabriel? Was it the thrill, the challenge?”
He shook his head. “I adored you, Emma, because you were strong and kind and so much better than anyone I’d ever met.”
My anger receded beneath the sincerity I heard in his voice. “Then why didn’t you see me outside of school?”
Gabriel blinked rapidly. “I didn’t think you wanted that.”
“Yeah? Is that why didn’t you ever invite me to your parties, Gabriel?”
“Jesus Christ, Emma.”
The disappointment on his face goaded me to push. “Go on, answer the question.”
“Because you didn’t belong there.”
Gabriel’s reply cut deeper than I would’ve liked. “That’s right. I didn’t.”
“Not the way you think. You didn’t belong there because you were better than that.”
“Than what?”
“Than us, Emma! You were better than us! You weren’t the type of girl who’d give head as easily as she gave her number. Or the kind who’d go down on her best friend just so that she’d impress some stupid a**holes whose family bank accounts were bigger than hers all in the pursuit of ‘making connections’. You weren’t the type of girl that usually…”
“Usually? Go on.”
Gabriel sat down on the corner of his desk. “You weren’t the kind of girl stupid a**holes usually use.”
“Stupid a**holes, huh? Including you?”
Gabriel held my gaze, unflinching as he answered, “Including me.”
My breathing quickened. Every damned skeleton was coming out of the closet. “There was a party at your house the night before prom.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Emma…”
“Did you f**k that type of girl the night before you f**ked me?”
“I did not f**k you, Emma. We made love. That was real and nothing you insinuate will ever change it.”
Scenting blood, I ignored his passionate avowals. I walked right up to him and whispered, “Did you, Gabriel? While you were chasing after me, did you f**k them?”
His gaze met mine. I saw a lifetime full of regret emerge as he answered, “Yes.”
It might have been irrational to be so enraged that I slapped his face. Maybe I was wrong to let out a deep, wounded cry while I beat against his chest. Especially over something that happened seven years before.
I was right to walk away. Damn you, Gabriel, I was right!
“This is why I don’t trust you! You’re still a rich, spoiled brat that thinks the whole f**king world is for sale! You think that the rules I live by don’t apply to you! There are no consequences in your bubble-life, Gabriel! You can do what you want, shit on everyone, and wake up with a squeaky-clean conscience! Well, you know what? Fuck you and your bullshit world, Gabriel!”
Gabriel wrapped his arms around me. “Ssh, Emma. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I am a piece of shit. I’m f**ked up, baby. It’s true.”
I fought him, wanting nothing more than to run away and to also curl up inside him. Gabriel whispered his apologies, letting them pour down on me like rain.
“Why did you pick me? Why me?” I howled.
“Because it had to be you.”
“That’s not good enough, Gabriel! You know I don’t belong in your world!” I screamed, red-faced and agonized. “You drunk, goddamned a**hole!”
“Yes, you’re right! I am an a**hole but you’re wrong, Emma. You do belong with me. Always.”
I stopped struggling. “No.”
“Yes.”
He easily lifted me up and brought me into the living room. Gabriel sank down onto the rug and kept me locked with his arms. He stroked my hair, murmuring how much he cared about me, how sorry he was in making me cry.
“Let me go!”
“No. I won’t do that. You can’t make me. Not again.”
“You don’t want me, Gabriel. You won’t touch me, you wanted to throw me out of here…you’re just playing with me…and I won’t let you…” I gasped, shuddering as the sobs clawed their way up my raw throat.
“I’m not playing with you, baby. I swear I’m not. I’m just trying to be a better man for you and I’m making a damned mess of it. That’s why I didn’t want you here…not until I fix this.”
My rage explosion ended as quickly as it began. I collapsed against him, weakened and just wishing Gabriel could make it all better. “Fix what? Tell me, Gabriel. Help me understand you. Please.”
“I just need to get through this and then I can tell you.”
“Get through what?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I can’t tell you yet. Not until it’s all done.”
“You’re killing me, Gabriel. I’m so afraid…”
“Me too. I’m sick with it.”
I looked up, meeting his tortured gaze with mine. “Why are you scared?”
“I’m afraid you’ll leave me again. I’m afraid you won’t ever be able to love me.”
Huddled against his chest, I wanted to confess. I wanted to tell him that it was too late. I already loved him. I never stopped. I loved him to the point of madness.
What else could it be that had me in arms when all my instincts demanded I leave and never look back?
“Gabriel, I’m sorry for what I said.”
He tightened his arms around me. “Don’t apologize, baby. I wanted to know the truth and you gave it to me. There’s nothing for you to be sorry for.”
“I do see you as more than your money.”
“I know you do. I’ve been around enough women who wanted my bank account more than me to know the difference.”
I pressed my face against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled me. “Have you taken a look at yourself? You’re gorgeous, Gabriel. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Women want more than your money. I know it.”