Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,386

and with that revelation came a tremendous sense of awe.

Perhaps Gabriel’s love had always been sacrificial. Perhaps it had grown over time, just like the old apple tree that fed them on that night so long ago, and she just hadn’t noticed how much it had grown.

At that moment, the genesis of his sacrificial love didn’t matter. Having been confronted with what she could only describe as something very deep, she knew that she could never doubt his love now. Gabriel loved her as he knew her, fully, completely, and without question.

He pulled away, pressing his palm to her face. “I’m not a noble man. But the love I have for you can’t be turned off. When I came to you at your apartment, my intention was to tell you that I loved you and to see that you were all right. And if you sent me away…” He took a deep breath. “I’d go.”

“I’m not going to send you away,” she whispered. “And I’ll do my best to help you any way I can.”

“Thank you.”

She moved so he was cradling her against his chest.

“I’m sorry I left.” He pressed their lips together.

Chapter 48

In the days and weeks that followed, Julia and Gabriel saw each other as much as they could, but between his preparation for the fall semester and her extended shifts at Peet’s, most of their contact was mediated via telephone and email.

Julia continued her counseling sessions with Dr. Walters, which took on a new dimension upon Gabriel’s return. Gabriel and Julia began couple’s counseling, as well, on a weekly basis, which rapidly morphed into (unofficial) pre-marital preparations.

By the time Julia moved into one of the graduate student residences in August, she and Gabriel had managed to address several of their previous communication problems. But their collective obstinance remained. Gabriel wouldn’t sleep with her until they were married, and Julia wished to move their physical relationship forward, incrementally. Gabriel was loath to share a bed with her except on occasion and then only reluctantly, with the grim visage of a martyr.

On one such evening, Julia lay awake in his arms long after he’d fallen asleep. His body was warm and his words had been sweet, but she felt rejected. The passionate Professor hadn’t needed much persuasion to reconnect with Paulina when she sought him out. But he wouldn’t love Julia with his body, even though he pledged his eternal devotion.

As Gabriel’s chest rose and fell beneath her cheek, she contemplated the path her life had taken. She wondered if Beatrice had spent some of her evenings earnestly desiring Dante’s presence, yet having to settle for the fact that he would only worship her from afar.

“Julia.”

She started at the sound of her name. He muttered something and tightened his grip on her, pulling her closer.

A lone tear escaped her eye.

She knew he loved her. But the knowledge was sharp and sweet. He was trying to let go of the past with Paulina and the other women, and she was paying the price. But perhaps it was no more than the price he’d paid for the shame she’d carried because of Simon.

He mumbled again and this time she whispered in his ear. “I’m here.”

She pressed her lips to his tattoo and closed her eyes.

Chapter 49

Despite the pain of their continued physical separation, Julia recognized that Gabriel was constantly discovering new and ingenious ways to demonstrate his love. Though she found their new situation difficult, she continued to have faith in him.

He refused to even entertain the notion of spending the night inside her small dorm room, but he’d drop in on occasion with flowers or food, and they would picnic on the floor. He took her to the movies, (even deigning to see a non-subtitled, domestically produced romantic comedy), and kissed her goodnight on the front steps of her building.

On more than one occasion, he spent a Friday or Saturday evening in the library with her, writing his new book while she prepared for Professor Marinelli’s seminar. Julia was being wooed in word and deed, and she liked it. But she was also unsatisfied, craving the closeness that could only be had when making love.

Soon it was August twenty-first and they were flying to Philadelphia to help with the preparations for Rachel and Aaron’s wedding. As they walked into the lobby of the Four Seasons hotel, Julia was stunned to find her father sitting in a wing chair, reading the Philadelphia Inquirer.

“My dad is here,” she hissed, hoping to give