Chapter 74

GABRIEL (continued…)

That night, I called Sophia for the first time since arriving home. I took a quick shower and called her while getting dressed for bed. She answered, but seemed distant, as if something were on her mind.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Freckles?” I asked, for the fourth time in that conversation. “I’m still seeing you tomorrow, right?”

“Hmm…” she mumbled sleepily, but she was clearly distracted. “How’s your work emergency going?”

“Bad,” I replied truthfully. Alister had colorectal cancer. I had planned to pick Sophia up tomorrow, but instead, I’d have to go to his doctor. Telling her this was on the tip of my tongue, but I was stopped by the promise I’d hastily made to my grandfather—to not tell anyone until he told my grandmother in person this weekend. Besides, Sophia had recently lost her grandfather to cancer. I doubted she wanted more bad news. “Why do you sound so busy?”

“I’m not. I was just almost asleep when you called.”

“Oh, sorry, Freckles,” I said without remorse, a small smile forming on my lips. I needed to hear her voice.

“That’s okay.” She was quiet for a few seconds before adding, “Are you at home?”

“Are you going to sleep now?”

“Soon,” I told her, yawning.

“Hm. Okay. Goodnight, Gabriel.”

“Goodnight, Freckles.”

I miss you, I wanted to add, but didn’t. It felt too cheesy, more so than usual, and she hung up so quietly after I said goodnight, you’d think her hand was burning.

I concluded I was overthinking it.

Looking around my room, at my bed—my sanctuary for years, which is why I never asked Lily to move in—it was filled with reminders of Freckles: her scent, her vanity, her clothes, even those lying on the bed. I realized I wouldn’t be able to sleep without her next to me.

I picked up my laptop and quietly went to my office; I might as well work.

Disappointment hit me like a truck when Freckles told me she wasn’t coming home, that she needed a few more days to remember her grandfather before leaving her hometown, unsure when she’d feel ready to return.

I understood, but a nagging feeling that something was wrong persisted.

I was sore from falling asleep while working, but I’d done that too many times before Freckles entered my life to worry about it now. I spoke to her again in the morning, told her I was at work, and made sure she was okay. She sounded better.

I couldn’t concentrate on work either. A sense of foreboding weighed on my mind.

I slipped out before most employees arrived, showered at home, and collected my grandfather’s cancer reports from Dr. Grant, who was too busy to see me.

That evening, I flew to Chicago, where one of the country’s most famous oncologists was based. He knew my grandfather because Alister had called him for a second opinion on Jim’s health many times.

He confirmed what Alister had said: it was still in the first stage, easily controlled, preferably without radiation, which could be fatal.

Before flying back, I called Sophia, but she didn’t answer. I waited for minutes, my heart pounding faster with each passing second. So, I called my grandmother, who said Sophia was asleep.

She asked where I was, and I said work. The lie weighed heavily on my chest that night.

The next evening, I met Lily’s uncle. He not only agreed to an informal meeting but insisted on it. Ten minutes in, I knew: one, he ran his hand through his blonde hair frequently; two, he said “well” before explaining any unfamiliar concept; and three, he was good at his job.

By the end, he’d convinced me my grandfather would be okay. He explained the treatment plan and was honest about the side effects.

I sat alone in the café after he left, lost in thought. I considered myself good with secrets, but all I felt was the urge to talk to someone—Freckles.

So I called her. She said she was fine, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted her to come home. If she didn’t, I’d go to her tomorrow and bring her back when she was ready. I was toying with that idea while looking at my phone when I heard a soft sound. Looking up, I saw Lily sitting across from me, her eyes red-rimmed.

My eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to find you since you wouldn’t answer my calls,” she replied, settling in, her voice toneless.

“You called?” I blinked.

“No,” she shrugged. “But if I had, would you have answered?”

I remained silent. I would have told her that my grandfather called from her phone and I answered the second time, but I stayed silent.

“Thought so.” The hurt that flickered across her face was fleeting, quickly masked.

“What are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?” I asked, then it dawned on me. “Ah, your uncle.”

“He doesn’t know. I followed him here after overhearing him talk to you at breakfast.”

I blinked away my annoyance.

“I waited, Gabriel,” she said, shrugging tiredly. “It’s been six months. I stayed away, I waited. Can you come back to me now?”

“Lily,” I began, reminding myself she was a victim of my stupidity and didn’t deserve my anger.

“Just yes or no, Gabriel. Please.”

I took a deep breath. “No—”

“You’re staying with her?”

“She’s my wife,” I nodded.

“Do you love her?” She seemed close to tears.

“Do you want me to be honest?” I asked.

She pursed her lips and nodded.

“I didn’t plan on it, really. She was a means to an end. But before I knew it, my life revolved around her. It was the most maddening, frustrating punishment—to not want a woman, yet to want her so much that I couldn’t think straight when she wasn’t around. I couldn’t think straight when she was around either, because I was so captivated by everything about her—her scent, her touch, her voice, her smile. Sometimes, it feels like someone stole all the stars in the night sky and put them in her eyes, and they shine only when she looks at me. How could anyone not be enchanted?”

Lily blinked, then gulped. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“I am really, really sorry,” I said sincerely. “I hope you find someone who makes you feel the same.”

The corner of her lips lifted. “Oh, I will.”

I nodded. “Take care, Lily.”

I was about to leave when she said, “That’s your phone.”

“Oh, thanks.” I reached for it and left.

I didn’t realize how tired I was until I reached home and went to Freckles’ old room. Her scent was so strong, it made me wonder if she’d even been in my room in the past few months. It felt more like hers, with her paintings everywhere and her closet a mess. I slept there that night, surrounded by everything that reminded me of her.