Second Chances (78 page)

Isabella studied him standing there.  He
seemed
, truly sorry.  She wanted to believe him, but self-preservation mode kicked in.  “I don’t know.”  She gazed at him warily.

“Look at me, Bella.  Look at
me
.”  He implored her now.  “I come to you today with nothing to offer but myself.”  His arms were outstretched.  “I don’t want to win you with money, not that it has ever swayed you.  I didn’t bring you flowers that will wilt and die, or jewelry that may tarnish, or food that will decay.  All I bring you is myself, flawed as I am.   I would delight in being your diamond in the rough, should you wish to have me.  And though I may have changed in your eyes, know that my heart has remained steadfast.”  He leaned against the screen.  “I love you, Bella.  Can you possibly love me still, imperfect though I may be?”

His words softened her already weak resolve.  “You may not be perfect, but you’re perfect for me,” she murmured with a wistful smile.  He smiled, thinking he had won her to him again.  Then she stiffened.  “But I don’t want to open myself up to be hurt once more.”

He was disappointed, scared even, but he refused to back down, refused to accept defeat.  This was far too important.  “Aren’t you hurting now?  I know I am.”

Her next words were spoken in fear.  “What if I let you in and you leave me and I’m miserable for the rest of my life?”

Gabriel smiled a slow smile.  They had danced this dance before.  “What if you let me in and I never let you go and we live happily ever after?”

“That only happens in fairy tales.”

“Well, then Bella, my princess,” he whispered with his face and palms pressed against the screen.  “Let me be your prince.”

Isabella stood there frozen, letting the words sink in, knowing that this might very well be the most challenging decision she had had to make since sending Jack packing.  He stood there patiently waiting, watching her struggle.   Silently she stepped back.  Gabriel did as well.  Then the door was flung open as she let him in once more.  In a single step, Gabriel crossed the boundary and crushed Isabella to him, an act they had both dreamed about for three weeks.  With a smile, and an arm around her, he murmured, “You know I meant it about never letting you go again, right?”

“I hope so,” Isabella said into his chest, never really considering the implications of his words.

Rebecca and Kyle were ecstatic to find Gabriel standing in their doorway.  They were even happier to learn he was taking them all out to dinner.  “Mom, can he stay the night?”  Rebecca pleaded on the way back to the apartment after leaving the restaurant.

Gabriel reached over and grasped Isabella’s hand.  “Yeah, Mom.  Can he?”  Gabriel asked mockingly.

Isabella only stared out the window and smiled.

The kids dropped off to sleep more easily than they had in weeks.  It was as though all their worries had dissipated with Gabriel’s re-entry into their lives.  Then, it was Isabella’s turn for bed. 

“You never answered our question,” Gabriel noted.

“What question?”  Isabella asked, genuinely confused.

“May I stay?”  He looked at her earnestly, as though she might refuse him.  “I mean...I’ve missed us, our closeness.”  He looked ashamed to admit his feelings.  “I’ve missed tucking you in, Bella.”

Isabella was eager to bring him upstairs and have him all to herself, but at the moment she was torn.  “Can you give me one minute?”  She asked seriously.

“Of course, darling,” he responded, believing that she was trying to make up her mind.

Practically skipping, Isabella reached the kitchen and grabbed the phone.  She knew the number by heart.  Her fingers skated over the buttons, deftly punching one after another.  The phone rang once, twice, then was answered.  She giggled.  “He’s back!”  She exclaimed into the phone, then hung up and rushed back to Gabriel’s side.  He was smiling now, trying to hold back laughter.

“Jessie?”  He queried, his eyes twinkling.

“Yup.”  She beamed.

Taking his hand, Isabella led him up the stairs.  This night she took the lead, knowing that he would be shy with her, afraid of crossing some unspoken line.  He stood there, awkwardly, unsure what to do with his hands as he watched her pull back the comforter and sheet.  Then she turned to him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his muscular chest.  She rubbed her hands over his pecks, feeling the light fuzz under her fingertips, then ran her hands straight up to his shoulders and smiled as the shirt fell down his arms.

Next her attention turned to his pants.  Effortlessly, as if she had done this innumerable times, she unfastened his belt, then his button, finally the zipper, and happily watched them pool around his ankles.  Gabriel stepped out of them and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his socks.  He seemed to have gained some measure of confidence, as evidenced by the way his hands found their way to her waist. 

Within seconds her shirt had been removed and he had buried his face in her throat.  “I love the scent of you,” he murmured.  “You smell like vanilla.  It makes me want to devour you,” he admitted, a lazy smile gracing his face.

A moment later her jeans lay on top of his.  Within seconds they were happy and naked together.  Only this time felt different from times past.  This time their hands searched each other’s body, exploring in a way they never had before.  A combination of refreshing and creating memories, until they felt they had reached their breaking points and dared not continue.  Happier still, they drifted off to sleep holding each other.

Breakfast in bed appeared almost before she had an opportunity to truly awaken.  Gabriel lay next to her and shared the tray of pancakes and fruit.  “Bella, darling,” he began quietly as he fed her a strawberry, “would you do something for me?”

She finished chewing, swallowed, and responded, “That depends on what it is.”

“Well, you know my father is very important to me...
”  His voice trailed off, unsure of how to continue expressing what weighed so heavily on his mind.

“Yes,” she said, nervously urging him on.

“Would you mind if we invite him over for dinner next weekend so that he can get to know you and the children?”  He rushed the last part, almost afraid of her response.

She thought for a moment.  “I suppose I could try to keep them next weekend, although, I don’t know why I’m working so hard to keep our custody arrangement when Jack won’t agree to sign the divorce papers.”  She held up a juicy piece of watermelon to Gabriel’s lips.

He had prepared to take a bite of the offered fruit, but hesitated, and spoke instead.  “What do you mean?  The divorce should be final and he’s stalling?”

She nodded irritably.  “That is precisely what I mean.”

“Let me talk to him.”  His eyes searched her face to discern her feelings.

Thinking for a moment, Isabella finally shook her head.  “No, I’ll give him a few weeks to cool down.  It may just be the shock, the denial.  I don’t think he truly believes that I’ll go through with it.”  She tilted her head to the side, studying his reaction.  “It’s okay.  It’s not like I’m on a deadline, right?”  Still he said nothing, but she could feel him thinking.  Unsure of what was going on in his head, but determined to salvage the conversation she changed the subject.  “So, let’s plan on having dinner with your father, okay?”  Gabriel smiled.

The next weekend found Isabella in the kitchen, slicing and dicing to create the perfect evening for Mr. Charmant.  “I could have bought take out,” Gabriel complained.  “Then you wouldn’t be working so hard.”

“You once said I should only have to cook when I want to, remember?”  She flashed him an irresistible smile.

“Yes,” he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Well, I want to cook.  I want him to see the real me, the common woman who enjoys spending time in the kitchen, loves caring for her children, and knows how to take care of herself and the man she loves.  I’m sure one of his objections is that he believes I’m out looking for a rich husband, right?  One who will supply me with all the support staff I desire without a concern regarding cost.”  She paused in her task to watch his reaction.

“How did you guess?”  He asked, genuinely surprised.

“I didn’t have to guess.”  She turned and smiled at him.  “I keep in touch with Ava.” Because of her long discussions with Ava, Isabella also knew that the meal she currently was laboring over should be one of Mr. Charmant’s favorites.

The menu tonight consisted of a green salad with balsamic vinegar dressing, which she prepared herself using aged balsamic vinegar for a special touch.  The main entree happened to be roasted lemon dill chicken stuffed with garlic, garden couscous made the laborious way Ava instructed had been mixed with feta cheese, diced Roma tomatoes, and steamed broccoli florets.  Crusty French bread fresh from her bread machine complimented the meal.  And while they enjoyed coffee, she would serve her award winning cream puffs.  True, the award was from a cooking contest in Home Economics in 7
th
grade, but an award was an award.

Everything seemed destined to go well, in part because she had done her homework, but mostly because Isabella was incredible.  And amazingly enough, it did.  The food received generous compliments.  He openly admitted it impressed him greatly that Isabella cooked and didn’t need a chef or waste money on ordering in.  She shot a glance at Gabriel that said
see
.  He nodded a touché in her direction.  The children were charming and well-behaved, which didn’t go unnoticed.  Apparently Isabella knew how to raise well-mannered children that ate adult meals with a fervor in addition to her other talents.  And she had a flourishing career.  Self-sufficient.  Nice.  Working on her first gallery show here in Montreal in the fall?  Impressive.  Was there anything she couldn’t do?  Isabella simply smiled politely, unsure of how to respond.