Chapter 17 Episode 17

I’m still in shock. But one thought keeps running through my head over and over again like a brokenrecord: I need to know. As the months went by and my pregnancy progressed, I’d given up hope of ever seeing “Gabe” again.But something—fate, bad luck, or God’s cruel sense of humor—brought him back into my world andme back into his. And so the question I buried a long time ago, the question I gave up on? It’s back with a burningvengeance. “I need to know, Clara,” I tell her in a hoarse whisper. “I need certainty.” I believe what I’m saying. But there’s something I’m not admitting, either—that part of me is also justcurious about Gabriel. I wonder if there’s more to him than the cold veneer he wears. Somethingabout him called to me on that first night we met. I thought he’d dismissed me for good today, but withthe arrival of the beanpole waiting outside my apartment, it would seem that maybe Gabriel’s not arobot after all. “But what about everything that you’ve said about him?” she asks, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, justthink about the way he’s made this offer to you. He’s trying to buy you.” “And he can try as much as he wants,” I reply. “I won’t take his money, but I need the answer.” I can tell Clara disagrees, but she doesn’t argue with me anymore. She just gnaws at her lower lipnervously. I open the door to Daniel. “Okay. I consent to the test, but you can tell Mr. Belluci that I don’t want hismoney.” I fold my arms. “I’ll take the interview, though.” “Very well.” He walks to my kitchen table and sets the briefcase on it, snapping open the clasps.From inside, he pulls out a pair of rubber gloves and a plastic bag with a swab kit. “I just need to takea cheek swab from the child and I will deliver the test to a testing facility for immediate processing.” Everything about his manner is cold and impersonal. This is hardly how I pictured this moment going.I mean, I didn’t think Gabe would come knock on my door and ferry me away to a castle in a pumpkincarriage, but maybe a little bit of romance? Guess not, though. The man has yet to even hint at a smile. I take Harry from Clara and stroke his head while Daniel collects the swab. He returns the swab to itscontainer and slides it into the bag, then packs everything neatly into the suitcase and snaps it closed. “Thank you for your cooperation,” he says, already heading for the door. “When will we know the results?” I call after him. He answers without turning around. “Very soon.” And then he’s gone. The whole thing feels a little like a dream, and I am left standing in my kitchen,heart pattering, knowing that my life is about to change but unable to predict how. Less than two hours after Daniel left my apartment, there is a knock on the door. Though he’d told me the test would be processed immediately, I did not expect the results back thatfast. But who else could it be? I’m not expecting anyone, and Clara would have texted me if she wascoming back to my apartment for some reason. I go to the door and look through the peephole. My heart drops into my stomach like a stone. It’s not Daniel waiting at my door. It’s Gabriel. He checks his watch impatiently, though his handsome face doesn’t betray an ounce of emotion. I takea second to admire him. His suit is tailored close to his broad shoulders, and I remember feeling thehardness of his muscles against my fingers as we embraced. My heart races. “What are you doing here?” I call through the closed door. He looks into the peephole, c*****g a brow. “I think you know. Let me in.” I take a breath and undo the latch, stepping back as Gabriel breezes through the door. His large formseems to take up the whole kitchen. He surveys my apartment—the small kitchen that opens to anequally small living room, bare furnishings, plain walls—and I can tell he is not impressed. I rock onto my heels. “So you being here … I guess that means—?” Gabriel’s eyes meet mine. “Yes.” Just like that, our fates are forever intertwined. Whatever happens after this point, Harry officially hasa father. “And you’re here because…?” I ask. “Part of the deal was that I would oblige you with an interview in my home,” he explains. “I am hereto collect you for it.” I thought maybe he was going to say that he came to meet Harry. I am disappointed. “It’s a little late for an interview,” I say. “Could we do it tomorrow instead?” Gabriel gives a short shake of his head. “If you want your interview, you’ll come with me now.” “I can’t leave my son.” “I know,” he says. “Bring him.” Part of me wants to object—it’s ludicrous that he thinks that, just by showing up here, I’m supposed tofall into line—but part of me is intrigued. Gabriel has just found out he has a son. This could be themost vulnerable I ever see him, and it’s my duty as a journalist to exploit that. Hmm. Maybe I am the pesky reporter he thinks me to be. “Okay,” I say. “Just give me a few minutes to get a diaper bag together.” “Not necessary. I have everything you might need at my home, and there will be a nanny there to lookafter the child.” I find the cold way he’s speaking and his indifferent expression interesting. This must be how hecopes. I study him, looking for a flicker of emotion, and only realize I have been staring for too longwhen he raises an eyebrow expectantly. “Well?” Gabriel says. “Yeah, okay.” I go into my room and grab Harry from his crib. He fusses in my arms and I bounce himas I walk back to the kitchen. I study Gabriel’s face as I approach him, but his expression isindecipherable. Very interesting. “Let’s go,” I say, sliding my purse onto my shoulder. He leads the way out of the building. There is a sleek black town car waiting in front. Gabriel opensthe door and gestures for me to get in. I pop my head inside and frown. “Gabriel, there’s no car seat,” I complain. “Just hold him on your lap.” I straighten and glare at him. “I don’t know why I expected that you might know even the first thingabout having a baby, but clearly I was wrong. What happens if we crash or someone hits us? He couldbe seriously hurt.” Gabriel’s lip curls into a bitter smile. “If someone so much as taps this car while he is in it, I willhave them killed.” Alarmingly, I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Can Gabriel joke? “Besides,” he adds, pointing at two other big tinted SUVs I hadn’t noticed, “we will have an escorton all sides.” Even with how little I know about him, I know it would be useless to continue fighting him on theissue. I swallow my retort about that being hardly reassuring and get into the car, clutching Harry tomy chest. Gabriel follows, closing the door behind him. Now it’s just the three of us. Here goes nothing. The car ride is painfully silent. The only sounds are Harry’s curious gurgles as he stares out thewindow, reaching with his chubby little hands as though he could snare the passing buildings in hisfingers. He is in a grabbing phase. Gabriel stares at his phone screen, tapping out a message. Was this a bad idea? The thought of Harry growing up without a father has always bothered me, butwill it be any better for him to grow up with a father who doesn’t care about him? Sure, Gabriel ishere and that has to count for something, but what are his motives? It doesn’t feel like fatherlyaffection drove him here. “Are you even going to look at our son?” I bite out. Gabriel’s fingers still on the screen. For a second, I think he’s going to say no. If he does, I mightclaw his eyes out. After a beat, Gabriel tucks the phone into his inside jacket pocket and turns to look at us. Though I amglaring daggers, Harry giggles. I study Gabriel’s face. His mouth purses slightly and he clears his throat. “What’s his name?” he asks. “Harry,” I tell him. “He’s named after my late father. A good man.” “Harry …” Gabriel’s brow furrows. “Harry Wright?” A strange look passes over his face like a dark cloud. More than anything in the world right now, Iwish to be inside Gabriel’s head, to understand what that look means. Is he happy with the name?Does he hate it? Should I even care one way or the other? I frown. “Yes.” “Ah.” The look passes and Gabriel reaches out tentatively, running his thumb over Harry’s cheek. I did notknow he was capable of such tenderness and for some reason, this small motion hits me like a punch to the gut.