Page 59 of Devotion

His meeting lasts almostuntil noon. Because I’m feeling lazy too, I don’t get my walk in during the morning like I should. I leave for my hour of exercise after Gabriel has returned and settled at his desk to work.

I’m letting myself back into the room afterward when I hear his voice.

It takes a minute for me to figure out that he must have gotten a call.

I pause with the door partway open. It’s not an intentional desire to eavesdrop, rather it’s an instinct to make sure I don’t interrupt something important. But when I hear a clear sentence, it feels like déjà vu.

“No, I’m not interested in trading her for someone else.” His tone is bored. Almost disinterested.

Something about it bothers me. As does the fact that someone else wants him to swap partners again.

It feels like a threat. It makes me defensive. That a faceless person wants to take me away from him. And I don’t understand how Gabriel can sound so apathetic about it.

After a brief pause, Gabriel responds. “No. I’m not going to change my mind. It’s taken me months to train Jess to a level where she’s basically competent, and I don’t have the time or patience to start the whole frustrating process again with someone else. … Yes. I mean it. You’ll have better luck picking out someone fresh who hasn’t developed any bad habits.”

I’m frozen in the hall outside our room, my hand clenching the doorknob so tightly my wrist is shaking. All the soft feelings—the closeness, the intimate pride, the satisfaction, the possessiveness—I’ve been holding in my heart for Gabriel have been slashed through with a machete.

It’s such a shock I can’t even cry about it.

“Yes.” Gabriel is continuing in that same bland, dry voice. “You’ve got to be careful to tiptoe around their feelings or they’ll think they’re not appreciated. Honestly, sometimes it’s more work than reward.”

I’m about to choke now. He can’t possibly be talking about me that way. I’d never believe it even this morning. I genuinely, stupidly thought he likes and appreciates me. That he values me as a person and values what I’ve worked so hard to give him.

I hear him end the call, so I have no choice but to walk into the room. He’s going to notice me hovering any moment, and that would add humiliation on top of what feels like heartbreak.

I breeze into the room with a forced smile and head directly into the bathroom with a quick wave in Gabriel’s direction.

Even though I don’t turn my head to look at him, I can still somehow sense his expression. Tired. Distracted. Blinking at me as he orients himself to my presence.

I spend longer than usual in the bathroom because I need to pull myself together, and I’m still shaky when I finally come out.

“You okay?” Gabriel asks, glancing up from the pile of papers he’s working through.

I give him a quick smile as I climb into my window alcove, wishing there were some way to hide from his sharp eyes and quick mind. “Of course.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Of course.”

“Did something happen on the walk?” He’s frowning now as he looks at me.

“No! Why would something have happened?” I do my absolute best to keep my eyes steady and my mouth relaxed. I fiddle with my locket but lower my hand when I catch myself doing it.

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Something seems…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, which is just as well.

I stand, looking at him and waiting since that’s what I would normally do if he was midsentence.

He searches my face for a minute and finally says, “Okay. Sorry. Probably imagining things.”

He sounds so much like himself. Partly sardonic and partly amused and partly concerned—and always, always so clever. It makes my throat hurt and my heart ache and my knees weak. I lift a book like I’m going to read and turn slightly away from him in an attempt to hide my expression.

How can he think I’ve been a burden? How can he see all the time we’ve spent together as him training me? How could I have been so wrong?

I might not be as brilliant as he is, but I’m not dense or oblivious. I can usually read people and put clues together and interpret ambiguities. But I’ve apparently been wrong about him this whole time.

It takes more strength than I knew I possess to hold on to my composure and not burst into anguished tears. I pretend to read for an hour. Then I pretend to nap so I can close my eyes.

I’m too restless to maintain the pose of sleeping for long, so eventually I get up and go back to the bathroom so I can let a few tears fall and then check the mirror to ensure there’s no evidence of my small breakdown.

---