Page 6 of Culmination
Why would Rafe long for me?
As I’m coming to, confusion settles over me. My stomach roils, twisting and turning, my sweet baby unhappy with my choice of breakfast just hours ago.
My sweet baby.
Just like that, everything clicks into place. Where I am. Who I’m with. The last voice I heard right before I fainted. The one I hadn’t thought I’d ever hear again.
Slowly, I blink my eyes open and find myself staring up into the most beautiful pair of green eyes I’ve ever seen.
No, my comfort in this time of need is most certainly not Rafe.
It’s Adrian.
And as I gaze into his longing expression, I’m reminded of how easy it was to be mesmerized by him. Because the man holding me right now? He’s the man I fell in love with. The man that, if he would just remain so, I could easily fall in love with again.
At the thought, my stomach protests and I have to break the hold he has on me. I push off of him and he lets me go without a fight, without protest—much to my surprise.
I roll away from him and take a moment to catch my breath. As I place my hand on the cold ground, I gingerly rise into a sitting position. The motion sends shooting pains through my head, and when I lift my fingers to gently caress the area there, I feel wet stickiness in my hair. When I bring my fingers into my line of sight, my stomach decides it’s had enough and I barely have time to move away from my father’s grave before I’m heaving into the grass at the edge of the paved walkway.
The sound of footsteps shuffling catches my attention, and I glance up in time to see Adrian stride towards me then bend down at my side. A steady hand sweeps my hair from over my shoulders and holds it together at the base of my neck. I’m already trembling when his other hand comes to rest on the small of my back, his thumb rubbing in soothing circles.
Adrian? Soothing?
He’s kept this part of himself shielded from me for so long. Why would he pretend to be comforting now? It’s precisely what I mean to ask when my stomach settles. I wipe my mouth and then slowly rise to my feet to look down at the man kneeling before me.
A shockwave of pain bursts in my chest as I take in the scene playing out before me. Here is Adrian Morningstar, the man who was the love of my life not so long ago, on bended knee, his large, tan palm holding mine. When I rise, his hands slide from my hair and back down to one of my own, and even though I know I should withdraw from his touch, I allow the contact to remain, unable to tear my eyes from his.
It’s almost cruel for us to find ourselves in this beautiful choreography that signifies when love is so strong between two hearts that it’s time to take the next step. It wasn’t all that long ago that I was dreaming of the moment Adrian would take my hand, go down to one knee, and profess his undying love for me. Tell me he couldn’t go another second without making me his. Ask me to be his wife, his only, for the rest of our lives.
But then again, why would I have ever needed a ring? To Adrian, I was already his.
Still, this reminder that that dream, that life, is over hits me with greater force than I could have expected.
But I can’t let him know that. I can’t allow him to see the pain of his betrayal is still so fresh, so raw. Therefore, with a swift shake of my head, I forget who he once was and focus on the man he’s proven to be over the last year.
The man who tried to kill me.
The thought sends a chill down my spine, but I refuse to let him see me falter.
Swallowing hard, I set my chin and glare down at him. “Is this it, Adrian? Have you come to finish what you started?”
Even though I’m projecting courage, I’m trembling all the way down to my toes. Still, I glance around the cemetery, searching for anything, anyone that will aid in getting me away from him. We’re utterly alone.
“Gabriella, we must get you to a doctor,” he gently commands, ignoring my question, which is both confusing and infuriating. It catches me off guard.
“Wait. What?” I ask, stammering like an idiot.
Did I hear him correctly? A doctor?
His eyes soften. “I apologize for scaring you. It was not my intention to do so. When you turned and saw me, you fainted, hitting your head on the side of the headstone on your way down. I can see you’re bleeding. You need to be examined.”
“How did you find me?” I ask, caring less about my supposed injury and more about my question.
He sighs and runs a hand through his messed-up hair. That’s when I take a moment to study him. Since he’s been missing, his once glowing tan has faded. He’s lost weight—muscle mass—and the dark circles under his eyes dull his usually striking features. It’s as if these weeks have been as trying on him as they’ve been on me.
Except I hadn’t tried drowning him in a sinking vehicle.
“What is it you always told me, Adrian?” I tap my index finger on my chin, hoping I’m projecting a haughty, devil-may-care attitude I’m not actually feeling. “Ah, yes.Use your words. That was one of your favorite lines, so why don’t we reverse the roles here? Use. Yours. Words.”
