Gravity: A Novel (20 page)

Once again he was silent, hesitant, torn.

“Whatever,” I said, feeling so angry with him, with his silence. I slipped from his grasp and walked to the bathroom, throwing everything that was mine into a bag. A bottle of my Chanel perfume fell to the floor in my haste and fractured into pieces, the ear-shattering sound of glass against tile jarring my determination as its fragrant content pooled at my feet. I bent down to pick up what was left of the bottle and gasped as I cut the tip of my index finger on its sharp edge.

I stepped back and collapsed to the floor, holding my finger to my lips as blood slowly seeped from the cut.
I looked at the broken glass strewn about and felt as if it was my heart, spilled out all over the floor—shattered. I brought my hands to my face and sobbed, my devastation getting the best of me. It was all too much. This news, Drew’s silent rejection, and all the uncertainty that swirled around me. It was just too much.

I heard Drew approach me.
He cradled me to his bare chest and stood, carrying me to the bed and setting me down. I continued to sob, only partially aware of him and his movements. He reached for my hands and pulled them from my face, blotting my blood-soaked finger with a tissue. I watched him through downcast eyes as he unsheathed a Band-Aid and wrapped it around my cut with gentle hands, before handing me a clean tissue to wipe my eyes and nose. I cringed at how pathetic I must look to him, falling apart over a cut on my finger. Although we both knew this was about more than just a cut.

Lifting my chin with his finger until our
gazes met, he said in the gentlest tone, “I love you, Gemma.
Tha
t
is the honest-to-God truth.” And then he kissed me, holding my face in his warm hands. I surrendered to him completely, as I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to me. Moments before I was ready to walk out of his life and never look back, but feeling him against me, tasting him on my lips as he kissed away my despair—I would take what I could get, even if it was just for one more night. But deep down inside I was hoping that wouldn’t be the case.

He slowly pulled my shirt over my head.
I heard my suitcase crash to the floor as he pushed it aside and lay me back on the bed. His movements were gentle, but there was a palpable intensity behind every touch, every caress. We lay beside each other, just kissing, as I felt Drew’s hands trace every inch of my exposed skin, as if he were memorizing every part of me. Our breaths were quick and heavy, in sync, as our need for one another grew. Our desire building, our tender kisses becoming urgent, nearly desperate for more. Clothes were removed with swift movements and thrown to the floor until there was only skin against skin.

His mouth wandered from my lips, grazing my collarbone and settling lower.
I felt my breast fill his palm as he held it gently while his tongue circled my nipple until it puckered under his wet lips. I arched my back, pushing into his touch as my body yearned for more of him. He brought his lips to rest just below my belly button, his hands caressing my slightly protruding belly, and, for just a moment, I was hopeful that this was his way of showing his acceptance for me and this baby. His momentary tenderness melted away as he gripped my thighs in his hands, lifting them as he buried his face near my core, his tongue lapping at my flesh.

“Oh, God
, Drew,” I called out as all my senses gathered at my center, leaving the rest of my body weightless and numb in his hands. My fingers gripped his hair tightly, holding him against me as I completely let go. Shudders racked my body as I rode the wave of the climax, fueled by the intense emotions of the day. I rested my hands above my head as my heart beat wildly in my chest. I felt Drew kiss his way back to my lips. I could taste myself on his tongue, and, without giving me a chance to recover, I felt him fill me with one strong thrust as another orgasm rocked through me. He was relentless as he made love to me for hours, intensely yet poignantly.

His hands were on my skin, grazing the peripheral of my body but his touch was penetrating, reaching me somewhere deep inside.
I could feel him everywhere—my heart, my soul, my mind. And, as lost as I was to him in this moment, I couldn’t ignore the pending darkness that lurked in the depths of my being. In a place where only intuition and suspicion could survive, a place where we push our unwanted gut instincts—hoping that they’re fallacious and only stem from our own insecurities. That darkness threatened to invade me as the intensity in Drew’s touch and the pain hidden behind his closed lids screamed good-bye.

Twenty-
Seven

It was early; the sun had only just begun to awaken the day, as I slowly opened my eyes to find the bed empty. I felt the absence of Drew’s embrace and sat up slowly, expecting to hear him in the en suite bathroom. But the room was completely quiet. I pulled on my panties and one of Drew’s sweatshirts that was draped over the back of a nearby chair and walked through the cabin in search of Drew. I instinctively went to the windows and looked out at the lake, discovering him on the beach.

He was standing on the shore, barefoot, in a pair of running shorts and a sweatshirt, skipping rocks in the calm water.
A thin layer of fog hovered over the surface of the lake, the rising sun just barely penetrating it, melting it away at the edges, exposing only the shoreline. A sure sign that fall was just around the corner. Drew crouched down to search for more rocks in the sand, before standing and throwing each one into the smooth surface of the water with expert skill. He looked so lost; his face held an expression of a thousand unspoken words.

He was struggling with something
; that much was obvious. I took a deep breath as I continued to watch him, knowing that whatever he was mulling over in his mind had everything to do with me, with us.
Was he being forced to choose? What was he keeping from me, or rather
 
wh
o
was he keeping from me
? I thought of my marriage—of Ryan—and asked myself if I was ready to let it go, to let Ryan go.
If I had to choose, right now—this minute—to move forward with Drew or to try to salvage my marriage with Ryan, no matter who the father of this baby was, who would I choose?

I knew in my heart that I loved Drew.
The love that I felt for him could not be defined, or neatly labeled and placed in a box. It was boundless and unconditional, a force that pulled two souls together under extraordinary circumstances. He was my past, but also my right now. He reminded me of who I really was behind all the titles, the fears, and the secrets. He made me feel alive again, made me want to be a better person. He made me feel like that little girl who had the world at her feet, full of possibilities—ready to take on the world.

His heart was massive
, and he wore it on his sleeve, as if he feared nothing. He saw the world for all its simplicity, unwilling to see anything more than the true heart of the matter. My heart was torn as I still loved my husband; I knew this to be true for the sheer fact that I still felt so hurt by what he had done. And when, for the first time, I heard those words, “You’re pregnant,” all I could think of was Ryan. That I was finally getting my chance at the life that I had always dreamed of, but Ryan had always been part of that dream, that life.

But could I forgive him?
Could we ever go back to where we left off
? And this led me back to Drew.
What did it mean that, after all these years, we were back here again
? In this moment, watching Drew on the beach, feeling so conflicted, the thought of letting him go tore me apart inside.

I ran my hand over my belly, imagining this baby inside me, picturing its tiny face, delicate fingers
, and toes. I was plagued with so many uncertainties, but one thing was constant and unequivocal—I loved this baby and wanted nothing more than to be a mother. And deep down inside, a part of me wanted this with Drew. I envisioned a quiet, simple life with him. One that would allow this baby to grow and bask in unending love from both a mother and a father, giving him or her a stable environment that I had known growing up, that Drew and I both had once known until unfortunate circumstances had changed all that.

It was as if gravity had pulled us both here, to this place at this exact time, and I couldn’t seem to defy the force of it.
I couldn’t ignore the significance. I knew I wanted this, and, yet, I feared what it was that Drew wanted and what he was struggling with.

I continued to watch him, committing every one of his features to memory.
The strong curvature of his jaw, his light brown hair jetting toward the sky in complete disarray, giving him a sexy edge. His perfect smile and deep-creviced dimples that awarded him a youthful appearance. The cut lines of his body, his breathtaking and beautiful physique that I had grown to know so well. He was incredible as a man, but what I loved the most about him was the boy who I still saw in his eyes. The boy who I remembered and loved like family for so many years. He meant everything to me. Everything.

He glanced up to the cabin and caught sight of me watching him
. Our gazes locked for an instant, and I gave a little wave from where I stood at the window. He smiled back before he turned to toss one last stone into the water. He rubbed his hands together, shedding the sand from his palms, and slowly made his way up the beach toward me.

My breath caught as h
e walked through the side door and scooped me into his arms, holding me tightly against him as he kissed my neck, growling playfully against my skin. I laughed quietly and kissed him on the mouth, unable to resist feeling closer to him.

“Good morning,” he whispered against my lips as what he had done to my body the night before played through my mind, causing a heated blush to spread across my cheeks.

“Morning,” I whispered back. I felt his hand reach down and grip my backside, covered only by a lacy pair of panties.

“Nice,” he mumbled as he kissed me again.

I pulled away when I felt his intention shift, knowing that we needed to talk before our bodies spoke for us. “Drew, we need to talk,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest, bracing myself for whatever was to come.

He took in a deep breath and blew it out through his nose before responding.
“Okay,” he said with resolve, as he sat down on the arm of the couch.

“You can’t keep avoiding the future, Drew.
I need to know what
thi
s
is,” I said waving my hand between us. “I need to know what you want.”

“What I
wan
t
?” he asked with a smirk. “As if it’s that easy,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked
, as I squeezed my folded arms tighter across my chest.

“What do
yo
u
want, Gemma?”

His
gaze was boring into mine, and I couldn’t tell if his question was accusatory or inquisitive. I was fumbling, unable to read him, dreading each word that we exchanged. I hesitated for only a mere moment. “I want you,” I said with an unwavering stare. “And I want this baby. With you. No matter who the father is.” I saw a flicker in his gaze as my last words spewed from my mouth before I could take them back.

“What do you mean, no matter who the father is?”
He squinted his eyes at me, questioning everything now. And I wanted to kick myself for admitting that to him before he could tell me if he saw me in his future. I guess it was better that he knew the entire truth before I forced him to make a decision.

I took a deep breath and instinctively brought my hands to my belly, as if I needed to protect him or her from whatever came next.
“This baby was conceived in May, Drew. It could be Ryan’s or yours. It’s too close to tell for sure.” I searched his eyes, waiting for his reaction.

He stood and began to pace in front me, scrubbing his hands over his face as I heard him take deep, ragged breaths.

I stepped closer to him and reached for his arm to stop his pacing. “I can’t take this anymore, Drew. Tell me what you want.”

I saw so much pain in his
eyes, it nearly brought me to my knees as he remained quiet once again, conflicted.

“
TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT
,” I screamed in frustration, throwing my hands up into the air.

He gripped his hair in his hands and said quietly, “I want
yo
u
, Gem.”

I waited for the blow, knowing that a “but” was coming.

Shaking his head back and forth, throwing his own hands in the air, he said it. “But I can’t do this.”

Tears spilled from my eyes as his words crushed my heart and whatever hope I had left for us.
I folded my arms tightly across my chest once again, trying to comfort myself against the agony.

He was suddenly angry, tears filling his own eyes.
“
God dammi
t
, I can’t do this,” he yelled as he looked upward, as if he were actually talking to God.

I was so confused.
He was saying one thing, but his body was saying something else entirely. And he was so angry, but not at me. I stood in silence and waited for him to explain himself.