Stepbrother Thief(36)

“Stop daydreaming and let's shop,” Jacqueline says, grabbing my arm and tugging me away to browse rack after rack of clothes, row after row of furniture, and a whole host of accessories that I don't even begin to know what to do with. Oh well. Gill and I can worry about the practical stuff later. Right now, this mission is just for fun, for me to grab whatever catches my fancy. When I get home, I'm going to lay it all out on our bed and wait for Gill to come home.

As soon as he sees it, he'll know.

I smile to myself and let loose, emerging from the store with a brown shopping bag full of assorted clothes and toys. My friends walk me home, kiss my cheeks and bid me au revoir.

I head upstairs, a bounce in my step, a smile locked onto my face that I just can't seem to get rid of. And who'd want to anyway?

I smooth my hands down the front of my black sheath dress, just in case Gill's already home.

“Gilleon?” I ask, setting my bag down on the floor near the front door. “Are you home?” When he doesn't answer, a little thrill of excitement shoots through me. Good. I can set up my surprise and be waiting with a glass of wine and a sexy set of lingerie on before he gets here. Maybe Katriane is right—well, sort of. I don't think Gill will launch into a five minute description of his rigid cock before he takes me in his arms, but I can definitely see us both shoving the baby stuff to the floor for a quickie.

I move into the bedroom and reach back to unzip my dress when I see the note. I don't think anything is up at first—Gill's always leaving little love letters around the apartment. So I take my dress off, hang it back up in the closet—this little black number is designer wear, a gift from Cliff, and is definitely dry clean only.

I slip my heels off next and tuck them away before sitting down on the end of the bed and grabbing the note. I expect something like 'Love ya, See you tonight', but end up staring down at a full page of writing.

It doesn't start off well.





Regi,



Please forgive me for what I'm about to do.

Before you read this, I want you to take a deep breath and think of all the wonderful times we've had together. I have loved—and still love—you with a passion that's difficult to express in words. Still, I'm going to try because this could be the last time I ever get to tell you.

You're strong, strong enough to get through this. I know it won't be easy because it isn't easy for me either, but you'll survive and be even better for the experience. I know that because it's one of the things I love about you; your ability to survive, to thrive through the most difficult of times is unmatched. If I could, I'd stay by your side forever.

But it won't work; we won't work.

I can't tell you why now, but I hope you can believe that I have no other choice.

I won't forget for even a single second how good it feels to talk to you, to hold you, to lay next to you at night and wake up to you in the morning. Just know that I'm thinking of you always.

I'm leaving Paris today, and I won't be back anytime soon—maybe not ever. One day, I hope we can reconnect, look back on this moment as a dark splotch in an otherwise bright history together. Just so you know I'm safe and well, I've given Cliff my new number and address, but I've asked him not to give either to you. It's better this way. If I see you, talk to you, after all of this, I might not have the strength to do what needs to be done.

If I do that, I'll be condemning us both and I love you too much for that.

Stay safe, be happy, and don't let this ruin the beautiful future I see for you, Regi.

I love you, and I always will.



Gilleon.



My heart refuses to comprehend the words that are etched into the paper in my hand.

I curl my fingers tighter until the paper crumples, the ink blurring into jagged lines as I squeeze and don't stop until the page is contained in my shaking fist.

“Gilleon?” I ask, like he can hear me, wherever he is. I reach up suddenly, finding tears on my cheeks that weren't there before. I stare at the droplets on my fingertips, sitting there alone on the end of that bed in my bra and panties, a baby in my belly and a ring on my finger. Two blessings that suddenly feel like curses in light of the letter. “This can't be happening.”

I shake my head and put my hand up to my forehead, my thoughts spinning dizzily. No. I don't believe any of this. There's no way that Gill, my Gill, would do something like this. Five years we've been together—since I was sixteen years old. I don't know anything else, don't need to know anything else. I love Gill and he loves me. That's all there is to it, right?

I open the letter back up and read it again. And again. And again.

When I hear a knock at the front door, my heart soars and I wipe the tears away with my arm.

Gilleon.