York is going to open up a lot of memories. Of course I’ll do whatever I can to help. But one thing we haven’t talked about is forgiveness.”
“Forgive my parents?” he spat. “That’s a laugh.”
“Forgiveness frees you. It’s for you, as much as for them.”
He pulled away from her. “I can’t forgive them. They don’t deserve it.”
“Who deserves forgiveness, Gabriel? You? Me?”
“You, for one.”
“Apart from God, the only person who can forgive me is the one I’ve wronged. That’s the power we have. We can use that power for good—to forgive someone. Or we can use it to hold on to old wrongs and hurts so that they never heal.”
She reached out to him, grasping his hand.
“I’m not saying they deserve it. I’m certainly not asking you to forget or to pretend nothing ever happened. Just think about it.”
“I’ve already thought about it. The answer is no.”
“How can you ask Paulina to forgive you if you aren’t willing to forgive your parents?”
Air escaped Gabriel’s lungs as if she’d struck him.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
“Just think about it, my love. Think about your reconciliation with Maia and what that meant to you. And imagine what it would mean to your father to hear that you forgive him.”
Gabriel led her upstairs but did not speak.
Chapter Fifty-seven
While Julia finished her seminar papers and revised her lecture for publication, Gabriel met with his urologist for a checkup on December fifth, then flew to New York.
As soon as he’d checked into his room at the Ritz-Carlton, he realized his mistake. He should have brought Julia with him. The large and beautiful bed would be cold that evening. He hated sleeping alone. It always reminded him of their separation, a memory he loathed.
He placed a few phone calls—to Lucia Barini at Columbia, to his father’s lawyer, and to Julia. He was disappointed when his call went to voice mail.
“Julianne, I’m in New York. I’m staying at the Ritz-Carlton, room four eleven. I’m having dinner with Kelly tonight, and then I’ll be in my room. Talk to you later. I love you.”
Gabriel ended the call with a huff of frustration. Then he prepared to meet his sister.
Upon arriving at the Tribeca Grill, he was ushered to a table for two, at which sat an older, blond woman. When she looked up at him, he saw a pair of blue eyes that matched his own.
She fanned a hand to her mouth before standing. “I’m Kelly.”
“Gabriel Emerson.” He shook her hand awkwardly.
Her eyes filled with tears. “You look just like him.”
“Like whom?”
“Dad.”
Without thinking, Gabriel pulled his hand back.
Kelly managed a smile. “I’m sorry. Please.” She gestured to the empty seat across from hers.
She sat down and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin.
“It was just such a shock, seeing you there. You look just like Dad did when he was young. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Thirty-five.”
“I remember being thirty-five. I won’t play coy and make you guess my age. I’m forty-nine.”
Gabriel nodded, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He tried to formulate something to say but found himself at a loss. Mercifully, they were interrupted by the waiter.
They ordered drinks and made small talk until the waiter returned. Then they placed their dinner orders, waiting almost impatiently for the waiter to leave again.
Kelly leaned forward in her chair.
“I’m so pleased to meet you. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
“Not at all.” Gabriel tried to force a smile.
“I owe you an apology.”
His smile disappeared. “For what?”
“As I said in my letter, I should have reached out to you when I learned of your existence. I should have done the right thing rather than worrying about upsetting my mother.”
Gabriel’s hands drifted to his silverware. “That was a long time ago. We don’t need to speak of it.”
“Thank you. I should mention that my mother knew about you but would never discuss you, even after Dad died. She never forgave him for having a mistress.”
Gabriel’s body visibly tightened.
“So you didn’t know about me before?”
“No, but I knew your mother. I’m sorry to hear that she passed away.” Kelly offered a sympathetic look.
“Thank you.” Gabriel straightened in his chair. “She died when I was nine. But the family who adopted me are very good.”
“Michael mentioned that. He told me that our father had kept apprised of you and your doings for years.”
Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
“Didn’t you know that?”
“No. We left New York just before my mother died. I didn’t have contact with your father after that.” Gabriel ground his teeth.