The Ground Rules: Undone (9 page)

It’s not too late to make all this go away. But I’ve already decided I wouldn’t do that. This is not just a mistake, a messy scribble to erase — this is a life, this is my child.

It’s time to tell Gabe. He needs to know.

Soon.

Claire bounces up and down on the bed. “I’m so excited,” she thrills. “I just can’t wait.” And my heart sinks, deep. We’ve planned this trip so long ago. It’s all the girls have been talking about. There’s no way we’re not going through with it.

One more week.

I’ll tell him when we get back
, I decide as I tuck the girls’ bathing suits into the suitcase. My throat grows thick as I realize this is probably the last week we’ll ever have together, as a happy family. I bite back a tear as I watch Chloe diligently packing her little princess suitcase. She hums a song as she packs her favorite stuffed dog and her little glittery yellow purse, not a care in the world. She has no clue what’s about to hit her.

And for what?

For primal desires of the flesh. For a moment of weakness…okay, several moments of weakness.

Lust. One of the seven deadly sins.

That’s what this all comes down to.

I dash to the washroom, and close the door gently behind me, hoping the girls do not notice that I am gone. I turn on the fan and I squat to the floor and cry. I cry until I am completely drained.

“What kind of food do they like on Pelo Island?” Chloe asks, her hand in a bag of chips.

“Pelee Island,” I clarify. I look back at her, glad to see her seat belt is on. I always have these sudden moments of temporary panic when I think I’ve forgotten to fasten the girls’ seatbelts. “I’m not sure what kind of food they like,” I tell her. “Probably the same stuff we eat. But they’re Canadian, so probably bacon too.”

“I want to try lobster,” Claire pipes in. “Can we have lobster?”

I smile at her. “I’m not sure. Someone’s got expensive taste. I’m not sure they have lobster on Pelee Island.”

“Why not? There’s a big great beach there, isn’t there? I bet they have lobsters.”

“Um…I’m not sure they have lobsters in fresh water lakes. I think that’s more of an ocean thing.”

Gabe shoots me a smile. “Yeah, sweetie, we’ll see about the lobster.”

An hour or two more in the car to Sandusky, a two hour ferry ride, and we’ll be in heaven.

This moment could almost be perfect; the sun is shining, the music on the radio is great and we’re all together.

If only…

I look out at the road ahead of us. I don’t really see it because there’s so much going on inside me. I rest my hand on my stomach, and I think about Weston. I wonder what he’s doing.

I’m suddenly brought back to the last time we saw each other — those last few precious minutes…

My back was still pressed against the back door of the café, the bottoms of my ballet flats resting on the old oak floor. My arms had reluctantly let go of him.

“You seem quite fond of quirky little coffee shops,” he teased.

I smiled up at him. “And you seem to have a thing for posh restaurants up high in the sky.”

Weston toyed with the pendant of my necklace absent mindedly — a diamond studded cross — a gift from Gabe. How ironic, I realized, the cheater wears a cross over her heart. I’ve turned my back on all the teachings of the Church I’ve learned growing up. If only the God I prayed to as a little girl could see me now. My younger self could have never imagined doing something like this. I’d always thought Gabe would be the only man I would ever be with. I couldn’t have even imagined ever wanting to be with someone else.

He stroked a strand of my hair, his gentle eyes fixing me. “Well, as they say, opposites attract.”

“Please don’t call me,” I blurted out, just like that. “This…what just happened… it doesn’t change anything.”

I spotted the color drain from his face, the happiness stripped away in one fell swoop. I had achieved that with just a few words. “I’m sorry,” I added, rubbing salt into the wound. “I’m still not interested in resuming our arrangement. And I don’t want to discuss it any further. You need to leave, immediately.”

He just stared at me, confusion written all over his face. For him, this had not just been about sex. For me either, but I certainly did not want him to know that.

I pushed him off me and smoothed down the creases of my skirt. “This was just me getting off. Plain and simple,” I added, throwing his own words back at him. “And you know what else it was?”

His eyes were full of sorrow when he looked at me and asked, “What else was it, Mirella?”

“Adultery.”

I knew I was being a complete bitch. And I didn’t want to be. But he was talking nonsense, and I couldn’t let him do this. I couldn’t let him leave his wife and family for me. I needed him to hate me.

He took me by surprise when he turned his back to me. I knew he didn’t want to hear the truth. He stared at his shoes, and kicked a box full of books across the floor as he walked away.

He didn’t say another word as he left the shop. He slammed the front door behind him, the clang of the bell loud and seething.

We’re staying at the same B&B we’ve stayed at the last time we were here, two years ago. It’s a quaint little place nestled right on the sandy beach on the beautiful waters of Lake Erie. As soon as we arrive in the lobby, I feel my body relax. I’m ready to try to forget about all my problems and relax — after all, that’s what life on Pelee Island is all about.

This is most likely our last week together as a family and I’m going to try to have fun and make the most of it — as impossible as that might be. I owe it to the kids. I owe it to Gabe.

The girls are antsy, bouncing around the lobby like grasshoppers on a few cups of espresso. While Gabe settles our room details with Margaret, the friendly cheerful proprietor, I take in the space and the rustic earthy bohemian beach house décor. “Settle down, girls,” I whisper to Claire, whose high-pitched shrills are surely not appreciated. I run my hand along the edge of the coffee table, a gorgeous tree trunk, varnished and polished. I’m not sure what kind of tree it’s made from, but if I had the time, I could probably tell how old it is by counting the rings. There are so many natural textures in the space, I almost feel like I’m outdoors. Chloe grabs a seashell from the turquoise glass bowl. “Chloe, that’s a decoration,” I remind her. “We’re not supposed to touch.”

“It’s pretty” she says. “I bet I can find one on the beach.”

I smile. I’m sure those seashells were probably bought at some tacky gift store or Target or the like, but I’m not about to burst her bubble. “I’m sure you can.”

I stand up and walk about the space. My eye is drawn to the pretty prints on the wall, vintage inspired ink and washes of flowers and plants, the blues and yellows mixing beautifully.

I love this place.

Gabe kisses my cheek. “We’re all set. Ready to relax?”

I don’t bother replying or even nodding, because as much as I would love to, I know there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that I can relax.

The girls sprint into the room as soon as Gabe opens the door with a gold old-fashioned key — no fancy key cards here.

“Let’s check out the bathroom,” Chloe calls out to her little sister. Who knew a toilet, sink and bath could inspire such excitement.

I laugh at the sight. “We really need to get these kids out more,” I joke.

Gabe shoots me a smile as he wheels in our huge luggage and duffel bag. “They’re just excited.”

My gaze lingers on him, on the lean lines of his torso against the stretched fabric of his thin t-shirt. He’s looking gorgeous again. Whenever he wears white, he looks like a dark angel, a wickedly sexy dark angel. I swallow, wondering what the hell has gotten into me.

It’s the hormones.

I try to distract myself, drinking in the space with its whimsical quilt covered beds, rustic shabby-chic furniture, and vintage inspired prints. “This place reminds me of Gwen’s beach house.”

“It’s a little prissy.”

I laugh. “But I love it.”

He sets the large brown suitcase on the bed, and starts on the zipper. “Well, if you love it, then it’s perfect,” he says and shoots me a wink.

And I’m not completely shocked when my heart does a little cartwheel.

We start off our vacation with a hike along the boardwalk coursing through the marshes. I snap a few shots of the beautiful ultramarine of the water set against the ochre marshes. We spot a few birds and I try to capture them with my camera but I’m not the best nature photographer. I snap a few pictures of the girls and Gabe. They’re all so beautiful. A priceless gift God has given me. A gift I’ve neglected, tossed away.

Gabe takes my hand in his, and I turn away from him, not wanting him to know I’m just about to break his heart, tear it to shreds.

“Look,” he says suddenly.

I turn my gaze in his direction. Two beautiful monarch butterflies skitter across the sky not far off in the distance.

“The monarchs migrate from here to Mexico in the fall,” he tells me. “We should come here sometime in the fall.”

I smile thinly and nod, knowing this will never happen. Our chapter is done. A new chapter is about to begin for me — one with this new child, shared custody, and Gabe no longer in my life.

The monarchs make their way closer, trailing circles around us, their black and orange wings fluttering against the blue sky.

You eager little butterfly.

I remember when Weston had first said the words to me… I had my own little trio of butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

He has ruined butterflies for me forever. Every time I spot one, I know I’ll think of him. But that’s the least of my worries. Every time I look at my child, I’ll see him too. And when I look into my girls’ eyes, I’ll see Gabe.

And I won’t have either Gabe or Weston.

The girls both absolutely love their room. Almost as if tailored just for them, it is filled with playful, sweet touches; Norman Rockwell prints, colorful bed quilts, and vintage toys displayed on the bookshelf.

We’ve tucked them in, full of smiles. I retreat to the quiet of my room. It’s still pretty early, yet I’m exhausted as I stretch across the bed. I know it’s a combination of all the fresh air and the pregnancy. I’m just about to drift off when Gabe stretches his long frame next to mine. He fixes me with beautiful serious eyes and the slightest hint of a smile.

I know that look.

Those honey hazel eyes of his almost hypnotize me. I can’t pull my gaze from his.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, his words soft and smooth as silk.

Ordinarily, I’d be all over him like blue on sky. But today, there’s too much guilt to even think about enjoying his touch. How can I make love to him knowing another man’s child grows inside me?

But I can see he really wants this.

A devilish smile curves his lips. “It’s been a while since you and me…”

He’s being unusually coy tonight. Generally, he grabs my ass and says something like ‘it’s been forever since we’ve had sex, babe’. But I suspect he senses something is not quite right. He knows I’m skittish.

He wraps a strong arm around my waist and pulls me in, closing the distance between us. And I just melt. I completely melt. I want him so much.

But I can’t do this. I stare up at the ceiling and focus on the exposed wooden beams. I can’t quite face him. He toys with the hem of my light summer camisole, his fingers tracing the laced edge softly. I close my eyes.