What could it hurt to go to dinner? If she’d thought for a moment that he still wanted her, she’d turn him down cold, but there was no way he could now.
Then again…what the hell was he doing here?
“I care about you, Gabby,” he said, as if sensing the turn her thoughts were taking. “You might not believe it, but I do. Very much. I want more than anything to know you’re going to be okay.” Frowning at her, he reached forward and swept a strand of hair from her damp forehead. “You’re not anemic, are you?”
“No.”
“Are you taking vitamins?”
“What are you, my doctor now? I think it’s only a case of being thirty-six and pregnant in three-thousand-degree heat.”
He retracted his arm, still looking at her in that too-assessing, doctor way he had. “All right, then. My offer stands. What do you think?”
If nothing else, it would be a night away from her apartment—and away from much-needed reading, unfortunately—but it would be a night in someone else’s company besides her own. She was practically sick of herself, sick of festering in her lonely, chaotic thoughts.
But in the end…
“I can’t,” she said softly. “Thank you for caring. I just can’t.” She attempted to reach around him again. And again, his hand caught her before she could.
“Gabby…”
“What, Mark, what now?”
“I love you.”
“I loved you. Past tense.”
“I don’t think so. If you truly wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and I believe you did, you wouldn’t be able to walk away so fast.”
“Here’s the thing. I can’t love without respect. And I can’t respect someone who doesn’t respect me in return. What you did…it’s pretty damn far from respect, you know?”
“This summer without you… It’s been hell on me, and it crushes me to think what it’s been for like for you. That you’re pregnant with another man’s child—I’ll deal with it, Gabby. We’ll make it work. I’ll raise this baby as if it’s my own. It’s a part of you, and that’s enough for me. I swear to you, honey, I wasn’t there before, but I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll always be here for you and this baby.”
She could only stare at him in stunned silence.
“I didn’t want to do this here,” he went on, casting a glance around and taking both her hands, “but you aren’t giving me much choice. I still have your ring. You can have it back, or I’ll buy you a brand-new one. We can start all over. I miss you.” He gazed searchingly into her eyes, his own like a clear autumn morning. Not the hazy, sweltering late-summer sky outside the building…and not the warm spring of Ian’s that she longed for. “I do want to marry you. Come back to me.”
Gabby jerked her hands from his, all but slapping them away. Whether it was fury at him or horror at how much she wanted to go with him, not only to dinner, but home... She couldn’t even analyze it right now. Wouldn’t. Didn’t have the strength to. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I have to go.”
Those autumn-blue eyes clouded with desperation. “At least give some thought to it. I promise you, I see what I’ve lost now, Gabby, and I’m sorry it took me this long to—”
“You’re too late.”
“Think about what’s best for you and this baby.”
“It wouldn’t be you. Get out of my way.”
He let her step past him, not turning to watch her yank open her car door and fling herself inside, where it was twice as hot as the sauna outside. She meant to start it and speed off before he could do anything more, but he walked away, his steps long and rapid. She couldn’t help herself; she watched his retreating figure and had to grab hold of the steering wheel to keep from jumping out and running after him. He was…home to her. No matter what he’d done, no matter how he’d hurt her, he represented everything she’d ever wanted. It was almost like watching her life walk away from her. Her future, the one she’d almost had, the one he was offering to her again.
God, the confidence he exuded. It was evident in every move he made. His control, his…elegance. It was no wonder she’d fallen so hard for him so fast. Hell, even his sex had been graceful.
Ian couldn’t be more different. His raw swagger got her blood pumping in a completely different way that was no less potent—even more so. The only thing she could really consider elegant about him came through in his art. He could give her everything she wanted in the bedroom, and then some. But could he give her same things the man walking away from her could?
At least Mark was here. He might’ve screwed things up, but he was trying to make it right. Where the f**k was the father of her child?
Ugh, to hell with it. Maybe the answer really was to swear off all men, like her mother had suggested. Hadn’t they gotten her into enough trouble?
She started her car with every intention of leaving, but in the end, she only sat with the air conditioner running. And cried. Ugly cried, half collapsed over her console, letting it all pour out in great racking sobs that had been coming for a long, long time. The sobs she didn’t allow even when Mark stood her up for the biggest date of her life.
A knock on her window snapped her head up, and she could only imagine the sight that greeted her former fiancé as he peered inside at her.
“Gabby,” Mark said sternly, though his voice was muffled by the glass. “Open the door. Right now.”
Absolutely depleted of any strength, she obeyed, not bothering to wipe her streaming eyes or fix her mussed hair. “What?”
“I’m not letting you drive like this. Go around, and I’ll drive you home.”
“But—”
“I’ll call a cab from your place. It’s okay.”
He had come back, she thought as she clambered from the driver’s seat and trudged around to the passenger side. And she had the feeling he wouldn’t give up no matter how many times she pushed him away. How would she have the willpower to resist that, as beaten down as she’d been feeling?
She wouldn’t. Simple.
After listlessly reciting her address to him, she kept her head bowed as he drove, using the time to pray he would let her be and not push his agenda. Unfortunately, the familiarity of him in the driver’s seat, the simultaneous proximity and distance between them, the whole impossible mess she’d made of things all because she’d wanted to get laid…it all kept her eyes on a steady drip, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he started in on her again. But he touched her only once, when he reached over to briefly rub her back as they stopped at a red light.
Of course, the traffic was horrendous and they had plenty of time to sit in awkward silence. Gabby kept remembering the one and only time Ian had driven her car. The night they’d ended up at the lake, sitting on the hood, kissing under the moonlight. Probably the last night she’d felt good about things. Calm. Like maybe everything would be all right.
“Feel any better?” Mark asked. She lifted her head to see they were pulling into her building’s parking lot. Thank God. Things were beginning to crack again inside her. Who knew what would come pouring out this time? She’d probably start screaming and hitting things.