"He did that, did he?" his voice was heavy with accusation. "He hurt you."
The worry and even anger that played on his face surprised her. When was the last time she had someone worry about her like this?
She let out a heavy breath. "Can we-" her fingers curled around the edge of the long scarf that housed her shame. "Can we drop it?" she whispered, finding her voice.
Her eyes wore a silent plea, begging. She didn't want to rehash what happened last night. In fact, she never wanted to remember or be reminded again.
He seemed to understand as his shoulders loosened, the hardness on his features fading. "Hey, come sit with me," He said, patting the space next to him.
She sat, her hands still on her scarf, afraid it would fall.
She turned, facing him." whatcha got there?" she asked, pointing at the book he had let rest on his lap.
He looked down at the book he currently cradled. "This? " he said." Historical romance," he flashed her his best smile.
She arched a brow. "Romance, really," she commented, scoffing.
"I didn't tag you as the type to read those," she teased, her face tilted up as the wind sang blissful songs in her ears.
She could feel his eyes on her, studying her. His mind was probably wondering what her scarf hid.
"Wow," he laughed－it had a rich, baritone bass to it－she could hear it. "Didn't know I had the countenance of a dimwit," he said with mocked astonishment.
Her head snapped towards him, the comment catching her off guard. Her eyes widened- what the hell?
Then she smirked. Her body finally relaxed－ he was taunting her.
"Well, those were not my exact words," She answered, in a fake casual tone.
He swirled sharply to face her, obviously shocked at her remark." Touche, Gabrielle," he said. He bowed in mocked defeat, surrendering to his better opponent.
"So is this where you learn how to pick up girls?" She questioned, drumming her fingers on the polished bench.
He paused, contemplating his response. His arms crossed, in the most dramatic way." Is it that obvious?" he whined, his shoulders slumped like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He was so free, almost childlike－ despite his tall, solid frame.
She wouldn't call him a unit; her gaze glided over his lean but muscled arms, his shoulders.
Her mind slipped his brother. She squinted her eyes at the thought－ Edward: now, he was a unit.
Her finger traced circles on her lap.
She felt a light push, which transported her back to the present.
"Hey, lost you there." Worry was written all over his face.
She smiled- her way of reassuring him. She needed to get a grip.
Before she could say anything, she heard her daughter's squeak. She turned around to see Emilia running full force toward her, excitement mapped across her features, as mrs. Puff came into view.
Mrs. Puff appeared to be chasing her daughter; Gabrielle decoded that from the frown on the nanny's face as she screamed Emilia's name.
She chuckled. Emilia had high-energy days like this.
Her hands instinctively went to her scarf once more, bunching the ends in her palms until her knuckles whitened. Emilia hugged her, arms wrapped around her mother's neck, swaying her from side to side.
" Mummy!" her little voice echoed, bouncing around.
Mrs. Puff finally reached them, out of breath. Her face was red, and her chest heaved. "Emilia, " she said, gasping for air. Her hands found her knees, exhausted.
"I- I told you to stop running in the hallway," she scolded.
Emilia was still nestling around Gabrielle's neck with a full, bright smile on her face. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Puff," she echoed, clearly enjoying herself- not a hint of remorse in sight.
Adrian cleared his throat, asserting his presence.
"Emilia, is it?" He asked the little girl. His voice carried a comical tone.
Emilia whipped around, stunned as she hadn't seen him through all the excitement. Suddenly shy, she shifted closer to her mother.
"Good morning, sir," she greeted, her voice low and soft.
"Please call me Adrian," He grinned. "You know we are about the same age."
Emilia's eyes widened, amused. "That's not true," her arms left her mother's neck as she gestured widely. "You are about a million years older than me," she stated, as if she was shocked he didn't know his own age.
Adrian and Gabrielle burst into full fits of laughter. Her body vibrated with the sound.
Who knew such a nice morning could come after a wicked, hateful night?
She dabbed the little tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes.
Before Adrian could remark on Emilia's Comment. Mrs. Puff, who was still very much irritated, interrupted.
"Miss, she hasn't had breakfast," she stated, her full focus on Gabrielle－ a silent plea for her to be the voice of reason.
Her hands glided down Emilia's arms." Come on, no dallying around. Follow Mrs. Puff," She said, her tone final. She turned Emilia, giving her a small tap on the bum to urge her on.
Mrs Puff, grateful, took Emilia in.
"Byeeee!" Emilia sang as she left.
Gabrielle smiled, her palms pressed into the bench on either side of her.
determined to use the high of the moment. She decided to thank Adrian, who knew when she would get the opportunity again, or the nerve?
She wet her lips, hesitant. "Thank you for last night," she whispered, hoping he could hear her clearly. "For covering me with the duvet."
Confusion etched his features. "Duvet?" He asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about." After I closed your door, I didn't come back in." His voice was low with regret as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
It wasn't him?
"I wanted to check up on you after… " You know," he added quickly, his eyes darting around, embarrassed.
" Oh" was the only word that left her mouth.
It was Edward.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. She looked back at the house.
Her heart found a new rhythm.
He had returned to the scenes of his crimes, and for reasons unknown to her, he had chosen to be gentle.
The bag that housed proof of his cruelty burned her sides.