Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,92

note, and even her breakfast tray, confronted Gabriel’s sin in a manner that was stark, convicting, and absolutely unrelenting.

She could not have known this, but in that moment her words from a week ago rang true. Sometimes people, when left alone, can hear their own hatefulness for themselves. Sometimes goodness is enough to expose evil for what it really is.

Gabriel dropped her note onto the counter and buried his face in his hands.

***

When Julia finally awoke it was after ten o’clock in the evening. She yawned and stretched, and after making a very sad bowl of instant oatmeal and barely being able to choke down a third of it, she decided to check her voice mail.

She’d turned her cell phone off when she arrived at Gabriel’s the night before because she was expecting a call from Paul. She was not in a mood to speak with him, then or now, even though she knew he would likely cheer her. She just wanted to be left alone to lick her wounds, like a puppy that had been kicked repeatedly.

So it was with a heavy heart that she checked her messages, scrolling through to listen to the oldest ones first, frowning when she realized that her inbox was full. Julia’s inbox was never full, for the only people who ever called her were her father, Rachel, and Paul, and their messages were always short.

“Hi Julia, it’s me. It’s Saturday night and the conference went well. I’m bringing you back something from Princeton. It’s small, so don’t worry. You’re probably at the library, working. Call me later. [Pregnant pause…] I miss you.”

Julia sighed and deleted the first message from Paul and moved to his next one.

“Hey, Julia. It’s me again. It’s Sunday morning, and I should be home sometime tonight. Do you want to meet me for a late dinner? There’s a great sushi place over by your apartment. Call me. Miss you, little Rabbit.”

Julia deleted Paul’s second message and quickly texted him, saying she’d come down with the flu and was catching up on her sleep. She’d call him when she was feeling better, and she hoped he’d arrived home safely. She did not tell him that she missed him.

The next message was from a local number that she didn’t recognize.

“Julianne…um, Julia. It’s Gabriel. I…Please don’t hang up. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I’m calling to grovel. In fact, I’m standing outside your building in the rain. I was worried about you, and I wanted to be sure you got home safely.

“I wish we could go back to this morning, and I could tell you that I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than the sight of you in my living room, happy and dancing. That I’m incredibly lucky that you rescued me and stayed with me all night. That I’m an idiot and a fuck-up, and I don’t deserve your kindness. At all. I know I hurt you, Julia, and I’m sorry.

[Deep inhale and exhale.] “I should never have let you go this morning—not like that. I should have run after you and begged you to stay. I fucked up, Julia. I fucked up.

“I should have humiliated myself in person, which is what I’m trying to do now. Please come outside so I can apologize. Actually, don’t come outside—you’ll catch pneumonia. Just come to the front door and listen to me through the glass. I’m going to stand here and wait for you. Here is my cell number…”

Julia scowled and deleted his message, not even bothering to save his number. Still wearing her rubber duckie pajamas, she opened her apartment door and walked across the hall. She had no intention of listening to Gabriel; she just wanted to find out if he was still waiting outside in the cold, dark rain.

She pressed her nose against the glass in the front door, smudging it, and peered outside into the inky blackness. It was no longer raining. And there was no Professor to be found. She wondered how long he’d waited. She wondered if he’d walked to her apartment without an umbrella. Her spine stiffened, and she told herself that she didn’t care.

Let him catch pneumonia. Serves him right.

Before she turned to go, she noticed a large bouquet of purple hyacinths leaning up against one of the pillars on the porch. It had a large, pink bow attached to it and something that looked like a Hallmark card resting in the middle of it. The envelope read