Chapter 25

Gemma

When I woke up, I was lying on top of him. We were on the carpeted floor, in front of the gilded mirror. Vincent was under me, his arms wrapped lazily around my waist, his legs spread apart to accommodate my body. I had been sleeping with my head on his chest, I could still feel the warm imprint of his skin on my cheek.

My hair had come undone, and my red lipstick from the previous night was smudged all around my lips and cheeks. I had been sleeping facing down, my body pressed to his.

Vincent was sleeping noiselessly; his breathing was even and subtle, and his eyelids didn’t as much as flicker. What was he dreaming about?

I only had to fidget slightly for his arms that had been holding me loosely to fall to the sides. I slid away from him, kneeling on the carpet beside him. My skin was still tingling from the comfort of sleeping with his arms around me.

It was the dreaded morning, early still, but in a few hours it would be time for me to leave. Would he come to the airport to see me off? I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want to see his face as I said goodbye. Vincent had changed my life, and he didn’t even know it.

I stood up and staggered over to the bathroom to wash my face. My phone was still lying on the table next to the bathtub. Naked to the bone, I walked over and switched it on. I really didn’t care anymore.

But I was surprised to find that neither of my parents had texted since our last conversation. Worried, guilty, heartbroken… I called my mother. She answered after several rings.

“Mom?” I said, my voice breaking as I heard her breath at the other end.

“Hello, Gemma,” she said dejectedly. I could sense that she had given up. Didn’t she care anymore either?

“What’s wrong?” I asked, walking over and sitting down on the lidded toilet seat.

“Nothing is wrong, Gemma. What could possibly be wrong? We just have no idea where our daughter is. Your father is sick, and we don’t hear from you unless you call to tell us you’re not coming home.” She sounded exhausted. Had she stayed awake all night, worried for me?

“I know, Mom, I’m sorry. What’s wrong with Dad?” I asked, my brows creasing with worry. I could hear him coughing again in the background and Mom sighed.

“The same. His lungs have gotten worse, nothing new. You don’t have to worry about it,” Mom said. I could imagine her pacing the small floor space at the front of the trailer. I could picture Dad sitting on the tattered couch by the window, looking out at the deserted trailer park. The couch had holes in them now, and I had been hoping for the past six months that I would be able to save enough money to buy him a new one.

I caught sight of the luxurious bathroom I was sitting in now, the gold faucets in the bathtub, the marble floor… My breath caught in my throat. What was I doing?

“I’m coming home today, Mom. I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish for the past few days,” I said, recognizing the tear in my voice.

Mom sighed again, like she didn’t believe me. Her initial anger had turned to worry, and now had turned to apathy. Her beloved daughter had become someone else.

“Someone in the diner recognized the man you’re with. Some big shot businessman from California? You’re shacked up with someone who is buying you fancy things, aren’t you?” Mom said, but surprisingly she didn’t have any malice in her voice. She just sounded tired.

“It’s not like that, Mom. It’s not about his money. Anyway, I’m coming home now,” I said, nearly at the brink of tears. It was like I was in a daze all these days and now finally the clouds were clearing. I could see the truth in what Mom was saying. Was that technically what it was? I had been foolish enough to be lured by Vincent’s luxurious lifestyle?

“Sure, honey. Tell yourself that. Why are you coming home now? Is he kicking you out? Is he done with you then?” she continued, still in that voice that dripped of exhaustion.

Dad was coughing again. He needed his medicine. I needed to find a job.

“No, Mom, it’s not like that, just… just… I’ll be home in a few hours. And I’m sorry,” I said, hanging up the phone just as a volley of tears gushed up the back of my throat. The phone fell to the floor, and I caught my face with both my hands. What had I done! Why couldn’t I see the truth in this situation before? I had repeatedly fallen for Vincent’s charm and his lifestyle, when I should have forgotten about him a long time ago. This wasn’t my life. Just like he had a duty to his business and his family, I had a duty to mine as well, no matter where I lived.

I had my face covered with both my hands when I heard Vincent’s voice at the door. I jerked my head up to look at him as he stood leaning against the door frame. He had put on a pair of jeans, and his thick muscular arms remained crossed over his chest. He was looking at me from under heavy lids, his face softened by the morning light.

“How can I make this right, Gemma?” he asked.