The Bonus

I wake with a start.

The room is dark, but I can tell that it’s morning. I sit up and look around. Gabriel is nowhere to be seen.

I drag my hands down my face as I go over the night we had.

Wow.

Incredible doesn’t come close for words to describe it.

I go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection. I look a right wreck, raccoon eyes and all. I tame down my hair and wash my face and throw on his robe that was hanging on the back of the door.

He must be making breakfast. A thrill of excitement runs through me, and I go in search of my man.

I walk up the hallway and out into the kitchen, no sign of him. I can smell freshly brewed coffee, he’s been up.

I walk through the living room and the television is on CNN news. “Gabriel,” I call.

“In here,” he calls back.

I smile and make my way up another corridor; this apartment is so huge. I find him sitting behind a desk in his office, he’s fully dressed in a suit and on his computer, typing away.

Oh…

I linger at the door and finally he looks up. “Good morning.”

“You’re working?” I frown.

“I am.”

I know for a fact that he finished for the year yesterday. “I thought you finished?”

“You thought wrong.” He smiles, but it doesn’t touch his eyes, and I instantly know that the sweet man who made love to me all night is gone.

Gabriel Ferrara is here in his place.

Maybe I’m imagining it. I walk over, sit in his lap and he kisses me quickly. “Give me a minute to finish up here, Grace, and I’ll take you home.” He taps my behind to get me off his lap. “Go get dressed.”

What?

I walk to the door, feeling awkward, not quite the greeting I expected. I make my way up to the kitchen and pour myself a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

What the hell was that?

With my heart in my throat, I drink my coffee. I’m not getting dressed. We need to talk.

I wait and wait and wait…

Twenty minutes later he walks out, his back ramrod straight and he looks me up and down. “I thought you were getting dressed.”

My eyes search his and he snaps them away. He goes to the coffee machine and pours himself a cup of coffee, he can’t even look me in the eye.

“Is this about me leaving?” I ask softly.

He stays silent and sips his coffee, his eyes are wild as if he’s about to lose control.

It is.

“I guess…” I smile hopefully, “…I could rent my house out and…” I shrug. “We can’t work together anymore, but…”

He walks over and stares out the window with his back to me.

Yes, why not? I could stay. After the magical night that we had, I have to see where this goes.

“I’ll get another job, and I mean…” I begin to pace as I think out loud, “…I’ll have to rent another apartment, but as long as the rent covers my mortgage…then.”

He remains silent, his back still to me.

“I mean, of course, I’ll have to go for a week to collect the keys and stuff, but I’ll come right back.”

“You need to go to Connecticut.”

I frown. “Connecticut?”

“Wherever the fuck it is you’re moving to,” he spits angrily.

I step back, shocked by his venom. “But… I thought⁠—”

“You thought wrong.” He cuts me off.

“What?”

He stays staring out the window, back straight, shoulders squared.

“Look at me?”

He turns. “You need to go,” he whispers.

“Why? I don’t understand. We had the most incredible night?”

“I know.” His haunted eyes hold mine.

“Then why?”

“Because I can’t give you what you want, much less what you deserve.”

“It’s okay.” I take his hand in mine and lift it to kiss his fingertips. “We can work out this dating thing together.” I smile softly.

“I can’t marry you.”

I frown. “Well, we just got together.” I chuckle. “Who knows what will happen?”

“I know.” His jaw ticks as it clenches, his eyes hold mine. “I am to marry an Italian girl.”

“What?” I drop his hand.

“My heritage is very important to me. It is expected that I deliver a strong bloodline; my children’s first language to be Italian.” He thinks for a moment before adding, “I need an Italian wife.”

I step back from him, the sting from his words cuts like a knife.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I…” He pauses. “There is no excuse for my selfishness last night.”

“It’s the twenty-first century, Gabriel. Why would you think that you need to marry an Italian?” I snap as my anger rears her ugly head.

“Because I want to, Grace,” he snaps. “Because I want to.”

His silhouette blurs.

“So…last night…” I screw up my face in tears. “Meant nothing?”

“It meant everything,” he whispers, his nostrils flare. “It was a gift that we gave to ourselves. One that I will hold dear forever.” He pushes the hair back from my forehead. “You will never be forgotten.”

And I feel it coming, the pain, like a tidal wave, as my heart shatters into a million pieces. I turn and march up the hall to the bedroom. I rush into the bathroom and see my clothes folded neatly on the chair, and I put my hands over my mouth and sob. When he folded these…he knew.

He knew that we never stood a chance, all along. He knew.

I thought resigning had given us a solution to our problem, but I had no idea what was really going on in his head.

He doesn’t care at all, he never did.

My god.

I’m such a lovesick fool.

I just need to get the hell away from him.

I throw on my dress and shoes and rattle through my handbag for a pair of sunglasses. I put them on and walk back out.

His eyes hold mine. “Gracie…” he whispers as he reaches for me.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I whisper. I march to the elevator and push the button.

He stands quietly behind me, unsure if I’m about to take a swing at him.

The elevator doors open and we ride to the basement in silence.

With my dark glasses on he can’t see my tears, but the lump in my throat hurts so bad as I try to hold them in.

Once in the basement parking lot, he strides in front, and I follow him as pieces of my heart drop onto the concrete like confetti.

He gets to a black fancy car and the lights flash twice as he pushes the button. I don’t even know what kind of car it is, only that it’s cold.

Like him.

We drive to my place in silence, and I pray to god that he’s going to change his mind once we get there.

How could he not, we are meant to be together.

He pulls the car to the curb outside my building, and we sit in silence. “Gracie…” he whispers. “Don’t hate me.”

I close my eyes, verging on a full meltdown. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

“Goodbye,” he whispers.

I can’t even see him through the tears, but I know I need to get the hell out of this car before I start to beg for his love.

I would give anything…

I get out and slam the door and as I walk up the steps, I hear his sports car roar up the road, he didn’t even wait until I got inside.

I sob my way through the foyer and into the elevator. After the best night of my life came the worst day in history.

He’s gone.

The mover loads the last box onto the truck and pulls the door down. “That’s the last of it.”

“Thanks.” I smile.

“I’ll see you in Greenville tomorrow?” he says.

“Uh-huh.” I step back from the truck. “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

I watch on as the truck pulls out into the traffic and I look up the road.

He’s not coming.

It’s been seven days since Gabriel dropped me home, and for some reason, I thought he’d come back. In the back of my mind I hoped that it was going to be a fairy-tale romance, where the hero comes back at the last second to declare his love.

But he’s not.

He’s in Italy, he flew out the night after we were together.

I know this because I checked his email that confirmed the flight. The next day he changed the passwords to everything, pushing the finality of our situation home.

I get a vision of him in Italy with all of those beautiful Italian women and my heart twists, he’s probably looking for his future wife right now…that’s if he doesn’t already know who it is.

Of course he knows, she’s not me.

I drag myself back up to my apartment to start the final cleanup. I’m staying in a hotel tonight and fly out first thing in the morning.

I can’t cry anymore, there are no tears left.

My heart is an empty vessel, broken beyond repair. And the worst part is that I miss him.

I miss him so bad that I can hardly breathe.

And I want to hate him, but I can’t even do that right.

I look around my apartment and there are a few odds and ends on the floor, my red clutch purse is sitting on the counter, the mover found it under the cushion on my lounge when they were moving it.

I walk over and throw it into my suitcase. I’ve packed a bag of clothes to get me through the next few days. It clunks as it hits the side, what’s in there that’s hard? I pick it up and look inside to see the black box with silk ribbon. “Gabriel’s pen.” With all the heartbreaking, I completely forgot all about this. I quickly undo the ribbon. “Maybe he had it engraved.” I open the box and frown, there’s another felt box. I open that and gasp, I take it out and my eyes widen, it’s a diamond tennis bracelet. He bought me a diamond.

Not one diamond, but an entire bracelet.

His words come back to me: I’ll only ever buy a diamond for someone I love.

“What?” I whisper. “The hell?”

There’s a small card underneath and I take it out of the envelope.

To my Gracie,

Forever yours,

Gabriel

xo

I screw up my face in tears as I hold the bracelet to my chest, he loved me.

In his own messed-up way, he loved me.

Six weeks later.

Greenville is new, different to New York. I’ve met a few people and have taken my time unpacking, trying to find a new normal.

I still suffer from my affliction; I miss him every day.

I haven’t spoken a word to Gabriel Ferrara, he never called, and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him now, even if I wanted to.

He broke something between us that can’t be repaired.

I wear my diamond bracelet all the time, I will never take it off.

It is my most prized possession, and as messed up as it is, knowing that he did care makes me feel a little better.

I hope he suffers too.

I sit on the side of my bathtub and stare at the stick in my hand.

“Please be negative, please be negative.”

I’m late, and I shouldn’t be because I was on the pill.

With my heart in my throat, I watch as two lines light up, and I put my hand over my mouth in shock.

No…it can’t be.

I do another test and get the same result.

Oh my god…no, this can’t be happening.

How? I was on the pill. My mind rolls over the last few months.

Oh…the antibiotics for my sore throat, was that it?

It has to be.

Gabriel’s words from that morning come back to me, loud and clear.

It was a gift that we gave to ourselves.

Did he know?

I put my hand over my stomach and look down at myself…a baby.

What the….

I’m having his baby.

A little piece of him that I can love forever.

Oh…

I smile softly.

I imagine the future with just the two of us, and a weird sense of calm falls over me.

I can do this, me and bub, we will work it out…together.

We can build a new life for the two of us.

Gabriel gave me the ultimate gift.

His child.