"This is destiny, Gabriella. Your destiny is with me. We were meant to be together. I love you," he urges.
"Stop it! You don't think this shit is killing me right now? Just stop! You don't love me, Dorian!"
"Don't fucking say that," he grits angrily. "Don't try to tell me what I feel."
"Come on, Dorian! Call a spade a spade. You played me. All of you did. And I'll admit, I was dumb as hell for choosing to see past your betrayal. But I'm done! I. Am. Done! Do you hear me? I asked you to kill me before because I was too weak and blinded by stupid, fucking love. Not anymore. I'm done with being a victim."
Dorian flinches, taking a step back. "Why are you acting like this? You know I did this for you. For us."
"I didn't ask you to!" I yell, my voice cracking with unshed emotion. "You know, I'm pretty sure I lost my best friend tonight. And I come here only to find that I lost the man I love too. All because of shit that just had to be done to save me. I'm so fucking done with losing. I'm done with needing to be saved all the damn time!" I bend down to collect the scattered contents of my purse that has been strewn about during the scuffle.
"What are you saying?" I hear Dorian whisper above me.
I stand and face him, even though it feels as if every bone in my body is breaking just to look at him. I love him so much it destroys me from the inside out. Agony paints his face, his eyes gleaming with his own stubborn tears. The sight causes me to shudder and a radiating ache attacks my chest.
"I'm not trying to say anything, Dorian. I said I'm done. I won't be your dirty, little secret. Your little abomination to breathe whenever you see fit."
"You know damn well I don't see you like that! Don't be callous, Gabriella," he warns sternly. He rakes his fingers through his mussed black locks.
I divert my eyes from him, fighting the overwhelming urge to fold my body into his arms and let him make it all better. But I know I can't do that. Not now. Not ever. "It's not about being callous, Dorian. It's about being honest. Aurora was right; I'm not fit to be with you. I've realized that from the jump. Maybe it's time you did too."
"Don't say that," he growls, his lips tightening into a scowl. "Your place is with me. It's our destiny. We need each other."
I shake my head, my eyes wincing with my pained realization. "No, Dorian. You only think you need me. And what you truly want isn't me at all. It's my power you want." I reach my hand out to him and rest it on his cheek. Dorian nuzzles his face into the touch and kisses my palm, letting his lips linger on my skin. "All I have left is me. No Jared. No you. I can't let you break me, Dorian. Because if I do, it will sincerely demolish the tiny bit of strength I have left. And I need that to survive. I need it to survive the catastrophe that is my life. To survive without you."
He shakes his head furiously. "No. No … just don't. I … I..." A single, glistening tear rolls down his cheek and soaks into my hand. Knowing Dorian as the composed, stoic man that he is, the sight of his pain causes my own tears to fall rapidly down my flushed cheeks. I have to go; I have to get out of here before I change my mind and surrender to him.
"I'm sorry, Dorian," I whisper through a sob. "But we can't do this."
"No … please," he begs hoarsely. "I need you. I've waited for you for so long." He brings his hands up to cup my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "I love you so much, little girl. So much."
"I love you, too," I choke out.
"Then stay. Don't leave me. I won't be without you, Gabriella. I can't be without you."
I shrug out of his touch and I let my hand fall from his cheek. Then I step back from him, drinking in Dorian's beautifully anguished face before forcing my legs to carry me away from him completely. This is it; the end of us. The end of what I thought would have been the most epic love story ever told. I truly thought Dorian was my destiny. I thought the Divine created us to overcome all these obstacles and be living examples of love and resilience. And now that I see how easily Dorian folds when things get tough, how quickly he runs away from adversity, I know that he is not the man I thought he was. Yet, that revelation does nothing to ease the strangling pain assaulting every part of me. It doesn't make me love him any less.
Chapter Seventeen
There is an inexplicable peace that comes with numbness. There's no hurt, sorrow, or anguish in it. No reason to cry or scream. No more fear. No more fight.
No more him.
I've tried like hell to get here and stay here with a bottle of tequila. Feeling simply hurts too damn much. And though I used to relish the pain, this time, knowing that this particular brand of hurt will swallow me whole, I've pushed it into the dark corners of my mind and refused to acknowledge it.
Just keep drinking. Just keep breathing. It's the only two things I can manage right now.
Tap, tap, tap.
I hear it but I am too far gone for its meaning to register in my clouded mind.
Tap, tap, tap.
"Hey, Gabs?" Morgan says softly, cracking open my bedroom door. She spies me lying on top of the bed, unmoving and dazed. "Holy shit, Gabs, are you ok?"
My lips part reflexively to fashion a response but the numbness takes over, leaving me speechless. I can't answer that question without feeling. Because I am anything but ok.
Morgan makes her way towards me and sits on the edge of my bed. The bed he bought me. For the room he furnished. In the apartment he owns. Shit.
Breathe. Drink. Repeat.
I take a hefty gulp to drown the anxiety trying to claw its way to the surface and look at Morgan blankly. My throat doesn't even suffer the burning affects.
"Gabs, um, I'm worried about you. You've been in here since yesterday. And it's been so … quiet. Like eerily quiet. Miguel got a call late last night from Jared. He told him about what happened. Do you wanna talk about it?"
My eyes are on her but her face is unfocused. I force myself to look past her, not able to meet her worried eyes. If I do, I know I'll crumble.
Breathe. Drink. Repeat.
I take another swig, my eyes still fixed on my best girlfriend but not really seeing anything at all.
"Ok … well, I can see you're not going to work today. But at least call Carmen. She's been blowing up the house phone all morning. At least let her know you're not coming in today or something. And damn, open up a freakin' window. How much of that shit did you drink? It smells like you took a bath in it."
I smirk, looking away, the first crack of emotion I've shown since last night. Since I left him.
"Anyway, I got a client coming in at 11 so I gotta go. Try not to drown, ok. And call me when you're feeling up to it." Morgan stands and makes her way out of my room, stopping before she leaves the doorway. "It'll be ok, Gabs. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but it will be ok."
After I am once again alone in my dejection, I grab my cell phone and turn it back on, only to be met with a chorus of alerts and chimes. I ignore the missed calls, texts, and voicemails, unable to muster the strength to return to the living just yet.
To Carmen, 10:42 A.M.
-Sorry about that. I've been sick. You should call Mr. Skotos if you need anything.
Just typing his name makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry until I'm too weak to move. I take a gulp of tequila.
From Carmen, 10:43 A.M.
-K. All good. Y would I call him?
-Cuz he's the boss.
-Um, no, Gabs. He told us last week that U R now the new owner of Cashmere. He sent us all letters w/ the deets. Did you forget?
What the hell?
No … this can't be true. There's got to be some mistake. How the hell can I be the owner of a store when I know absolutely nothing about running one? And how did he manage to do this behind my back? And the most obvious question- Why? A consolation prize for leaving me for Aurora?
Wow. What a considerate fucker.
I sigh and tap out another text, pushing the questions into the farthest, darkest corners of my mind, packing it away with the rest of my confusion and pain.
To Carmen, 10:50 A.M.
-Oh yeah, sorry. Been out of it. Just call the girls to see if they can take on an extra shift this weekend. You're in charge ‘til I get back Monday. Sorry again, Carmen. I owe you one.
-No prob, Gabs. Feel better. I'll take care of everything.
With a huff, I toss my phone on my comforter just as it lights up with another message. Thinking it's Carmen, I pick it up to look. I am so very wrong, and the dull ache in my chest overrides my alcohol-induced numbness. It hurts so bad that I gasp for my next breaths, the ache evolving into a staggering stab. My eyes fill with agonized tears while I read the blurry words on the small screen.
From Dorian, 10:52 A.M.
-I love you so much, little girl. More than my own existence. I would do anything for you, even lay down my own life. I need you to breathe.
I close the text, seeing that there are several more. Knowing I am just torturing myself, I open the first at the bottom of the list. Maybe there will be an explanation somewhere in it. A reason for this pain.
-Please come back to me, Gabriella. We need to talk. I can't let you go.
-At least let me know you made it home safely. I am trying to give you space but I am worried about you.