Gabriel's Redemption (Gabriel's Inferno #3)(61)

“The doctors here seem to know what they’re doing. We have a meeting with the pediatric cardiac team tomorrow.”

Gabriel’s eyes fixed earnestly on his wife’s.

“Do you need Julianne?”

“There isn’t much she can do right now.”

“Be that as it may, she’s your daughter and the baby is her brother. You say the word, she’ll be there.”

“Thanks.” Tom sounded gruff. “Things are up in the air right now.”

Julia wiped at her tears and gestured to the telephone.

“She wants to speak with you. Take care, Tom.”

Gabriel handed her the phone.

“Dad. Please keep in touch and let me know what’s going on.”

“Will do.”

“I hate to bring this up, but what about the wedding?”

“We don’t know, Jules.”

“We’ll plan on spending Labor Day in Selinsgrove. I can be there before that, if you and Diane need me.”

“Good.”

“Do you want me to tell Richard?”

Tom hesitated.

“Might as well. The fewer people I have to have this conversation with the better. Diane was on the phone with her mother earlier and her sister, Melissa.”

A tear slid down Julia’s nose.

“I love you, Dad. Give my love to Diane.”

“Will do. Bye, Jules.”

Julia quietly put down the phone. Then she was in Gabriel’s arms.

“They were so happy about the baby.”

He squeezed her tightly as she clutched at his shirt.

“They’re at a good hospital.”

“They’re devastated. It sounds like even if the heart problem can be corrected, the baby still will have health problems.”

“Doctors make predictions, but they’re guided by probabilities. Every patient is different.”

He straightened suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him.

“Does Tom have any health problems?”

“Not that I know of. Both of his parents had heart disease.”

She looked up at him. “You don’t think this is genetic, do you?”

“I don’t know.” He held her more closely. “There are few days when being an MD is infinitely better than being a PhD. This would be one of them.”

More tears streaked down Julianne’s cheeks. It had never occurred to her that something could be wrong with the baby. She’d been so happy to be having a sibling that any of the risks were unthinkable.

As she cried in the arms of her husband, she realized that whatever grief she was feeling, Tom and Diane must be feeling tenfold.

“How could they have prepared themselves for this?” she croaked. “They’re devastated.”

Julianne leaned against Gabriel, not noticing the expression on his face or the sudden flash of horror in his eyes.

Chapter Thirty

August 2003

Cambridge, Massachusetts

Gabriel? Baby, it’s time to get up.”

A soft, feminine hand stroked the stubble on his face and for a moment, he relaxed. He wasn’t sure where he was or who was lying naked beside him, but she had a sexy voice and a light touch. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

“Hi, baby.” Her large blue eyes stared down at him in devotion.

“Paulina,” he groaned, closing his eyes. He had a pounding headache and all he wanted to do was sleep. But Professor Pearson didn’t accept excuses from his teaching assistants, which meant he needed to drag himself to campus.

(It was possible the professor would have accepted death as an excuse as to why his teaching assistant missed class. Although it was doubtful.)

“It’s eight o’clock. You have time for a shower and breakfast. And maybe a little . . .” Her hand slid down his chest to his abdomen. Then she wrapped her fingers around him and . . .

And his morning erection withered in her hand like a dead flower.

He pushed her away. “Not now.”

“You always say that. Is it because I’m getting fat?” She sat next to him, her stomach slightly rounded, her generous br**sts full.

He didn’t answer, which in itself was a kind of response.

“I can make it good for you. You know I can.” She hugged him around the shoulders, kissing his neck. “I love you.”

“I said not now. Fuck. Can’t you hear?” He disentangled himself from her arms before sliding his legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor was cool beneath his feet but he barely felt it.

All his attention was focused on one thing—the ghost of white powder left on his nightstand. Now he was awake, arranging the mirror and the razor blade and the rolled-up five-dollar bill.

The world around him melted away and he felt his mind and body spring to life, his movements sure and quick.

In the blink of an eye it was up his nose and everything was clear again. He was hyperalert. He could think. He could function.

He lit a cigarette, forgetting that his . . . whatever-she-was-now was in his bed, watching him. She wrapped herself in a robe and fled to the kitchen, not wanting to expose their unborn child to smoke.

He finished his cigarette and showered, pausing to drink the cup of coffee she’d placed next to the sink. He brushed his teeth and shaved, his mind enumerating all the work he had to do on his dissertation, along with the interminable to-do list foisted on him by Professor Pearson.