Chapter 38

Ally

Kelly and Pat’s had closed due to a weather emergency. There was so much snow, the front door couldn’t swing open, and every time the plow staggered by, a foot or two more of the white mess, infused with dirt and gravel, gathered on the sidewalk.

I sat at the counter on one of their nifty bar stools and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of my hair floating around my back and shoulders. I massaged the wrinkles on my forehead, but they might be there to stay. I wasn’t prepared to iron them out. It seemed my face had been locked in a permanent grimace since Moreno mansion-gate.

“She doesn’t look good,” Pat remarked from the back room.

“Thanks,” I called out, but I couldn’t begrudge him the comment. I was so pale I could probably get a sunburn standing in front of the TV. Gabe was engaged to Faith, the woman he’d gotten pregnant and lied to me about.

I’d gone in too deep and I’d done it to myself. I’d known. Known that nothing but heartbreak awaited me on the other side. Why did I have to go and reach so high? It was like someone had clicked the ‘off’ button in the common sense lobe of my brain.

Kelly popped up from under the counter, holding a big bag of coffee beans. “I found it,” she said with a broad grin. “The last bag. This is the Holy Grail of coffee, Allegra Wilson. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”

“Like a heartbreak?”

“Meh, more like the Apocalypse, but this will have to do. Good enough excuse and all that.” She chuckled, but it was forced. She hated seeing me like this, and I would’ve felt the same if our positions were reversed.

“Great,” I said, risking a taut smile. “Brew her up.”

“Two cups of Brazil’s best coming right up, sweetheart.” Kelly hurried over to the grinder and opened the bag with relish. She sniffed the contents and shut her eyes to embrace the aroma. “God, that’s amazing. You should come over here and smell this.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Live a little,” Pat said, materializing in the door to the office. He walked to his wife, placed his hands on her shoulders, then leaned down and snuggled his nose against her neck.

It made me want to pluck my eyeballs out, throw them on the hand-planked wood floor and stomp on them until they were little puddles of optical goo, unable to ever see again.

Kelly smiled gently, then smacked him on the arm and gestured in my direction. “Try practicing a little tact, honey,” she said.

Pat stuck out his tongue, but backed away, leaving us with the space he always granted when I was around. He knew that Kelly handled the womanly issues. He was the silent support.

Kelly busied herself with the beans, grinding, percolating, and whatever else it was she did to make the aroma of coffee swim through the café. She brought me a cup and settled onto the stool beside mine, squishing her palms against the sides of her mug.

“Do I need to ask, Ally?”

“I don’t know if I want to talk about it yet.” I sipped from my cup and the warm liquid flowed down my throat and hit my stomach. It warmed me from the inside, except for the icy patch on the left side of my chest. I didn’t want that to thaw. I wanted to carry it like a badge. A constant reminder of my stupidity where men were concerned. “It’s Valentine’s in a few days,” I observed. “My own private inamorata. A Hallmark infused snake spewing her pink venom to a media outlet near you.”

“You’re going to spend it with us.” Kelly slurped her drink and put it on the counter with a clink. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“Thanks, Kels, but I’d prefer time on my own.”

I need more time on my own. Because I still feel like my stomach has been split open from throat to groin and my organs are exposed.

“Like hell. You’re going to sit at my house and drink champagne and eat sugar and watch Beaches with a box of tissues. And I’ll even buy you a gift. I’ll be your Valentine. I’ve made the decision for you.” Kelly dusted off her palms as if that ended the argument.

“I get a gift?” I couldn’t feign excitement, but Kelly’s caring warmed me more than hot beverages ever could.

“Hell yeah, you—” Kelly’s eyes widened. She stared at the mirror over the bar and pressed her lips together.

Gabe’s reflection stared back, from outside in the street. Snow dusted his shoulders, a thin veneer on his dark woolen coat. He waved and pointed to the door.

“I can’t handle this,” I said, stammering through the sentence and slopping coffee into my lap. This was pathetic. I was stronger than this, but Gabe had reduced me to a quivering mess.

Kelly lurched from her stool. “Pat!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. He appeared instantly, glasses half off his nose and a book in hand.

He spotted Gabe and slapped the paperback onto the counter. “Right,” he said, “I’ll take care of this.”

Gabe was at the glass front door to the coffee shop, pulling off a glove with his teeth.

I stared at him in the mirror, the intent in his movements, the soft patter of snow falling and sticking in his wavy brown hair. My insides did gymnastic somersaults and I wedged my hands under my thighs. Trying to ground myself. To keep from losing it.

Gabe opened the door as Pat reached it.

“You’re not welcome here,” Kelly said, standing with her back to mine to form the perfect friendship shield.

This was different from our first fight over lies. This was him sleeping with me, telling me he felt… God, that he felt things for me, and then asking Faith to be his wife. It had to be because of the baby. He wanted a kid and I could never provide that.

Gabe stood, staring at me, flicking his glove against his palm. Then he turned to Pat and glared. A huge, stiff wall of flesh and determination. “Get out of my way.”

Pat placed the flat of his hand on Gabe’s chest and left it there. He didn’t shove or cause trouble, that wasn’t Pat’s way, but he kept Gabe at bay.

“I said, get out of my way,” Gabe repeated, and flicked his glove faster, tapping his foot in the snow, sending up puffs of powder until it became sludge and his impatience sounded out wet slaps instead.

“This is my establishment and if you don’t leave, I will call the police.”

Yeah, that wasn’t a great idea either. Matthew would be all over it when he heard that particular call come over the two-way. Seeing him again and having him stick his nose in this was the last thing I needed.

Gabe never once broke my gaze. “So call them.” He took a firm step forward and bent Pat’s wrist backward. “We need to talk, Allegra.”

“So now you want to talk to her, asshole? How long’s it been? A day?” Kelly crossed her arms and leaned back until her spine touched mine. I drew strength from that tiny gesture.

“You didn’t want to talk when your father was around,” I said, clearing my throat. Afraid if I said one more word I’d break down into the torrent of tears I’d managed to hold at bay in front of others. The one that came like a torrential downpour every night alone in bed.

Gabe jumped and focused on me again. “Allegra, I can explain everything.”

“I’m not interested in what you have to say, Gabe.” I bobbed my chin up and down; readjusted my ass on the stool. “This is over.”

“That can’t be it,” Gabe replied. “This is what we do, Allegra, we mess up and forgive each other and carry on. We’ll get it right. I love—”

“Don’t,” I said, raising my hand. “Nothing is worth this much pain.”

“Get the hell out of here,” Pat grunted, walking Gabe backwards into the snowy street. “And don’t come back.”

“Allegra!” Gabe yelled, strafing left and right to get past Pat and back to the front door. “I won’t give up. I’m never giving up.”

I rose and walked around the counter and into Kelly’s office, taking my half-empty cup with me. I kicked the door shut with my heel, cutting off his cries. God. I couldn’t hear it anymore. I couldn’t see him anymore. I didn’t think emotional pain could be this agonizing.