Tangled Up In You (Rogue #1)

Chapter 75

75

SOPHIE

T he tabloid stories of Sophie and Conor’s night out together featured photos of them running hand in hand down the street with big smiles, along with the provocative suggestion that the two had been up to no good. When Sophie finally got a hold of Gavin a day after the “news” broke, he hadn’t exactly laughed it off, but he hadn’t seemed very interested in it either.

“So, how have you been?” she asked him.

“Good. Doing fine. It’s all been a blur, really. You’ll have to call me when you get to Paris and remind me to come at the rate I’m going,” he replied.

“That doesn’t sound like you’re missing me much,” she said. He was so much more distant than the mere physical miles between them.

“Yeah, you know I do, Sophie. I’ve just been enjoying hanging out with Jacob and the gang. They’re a good bunch of people.”

“So, I guess that means you’re doing that.”

“Isn’t it amazing you can nag me from thousands of miles away? Grand indeed of you to call.”

“Gavin, don’t do that.”

“I haven’t talked to you in going on four days now, you’re running around with Conor at strip shows, and you’re calling me on shite? I don’t think so, darlin’.”

Guilt washed over her. Not guilt over Conor, but guilt for having turned Gavin’s mood sour. She didn’t want to upset the delicate balance he had been walking.

“Baby, I miss you. Do you want to come see me in Paris earlier than we planned?” she asked.

“Oh, I can’t. Jacob’s opening his club in Temple Bar. I’ve got to be there, said I would, you know. I guess it helps with the publicity angle for him. So I don’t think I can, darlin’. Just call me from Paris. Okay?” he asked, sounding in a hurry to end the call.

“Call you from Paris? Gavin, that’s almost two weeks from now.”

“Oh. Em, well, we’ll talk at some point, yeah?”

Her chest ached at his disinterest. It felt like she’d already lost him.

“I love you,” she said softly.

But he had spoken at the same time, saying, “Got to go. Take care.”

Before she could reply, he’d ended the call.

The runway shows in London and Milan were a success, even though Sophie did her job in a daze. She missed her husband and she missed her home. And she found herself wishing she could step back to the time when she and Gavin had an unbreakable connection.

The connection they had now was mostly through their cell phone voicemail. He rarely answered her calls or texts and when he did, he invariably sounded irritated, as if she were interrupting.

But he had promised to join her this afternoon for the last two days of Paris shows. They would then stay in the city a few more days. The prospect of dedicated time together filled her with unwarranted optimism as she walked into the lobby of the Four Seasons Hotel George V. This was the hotel she always stayed in, and its marble floors and columns and grand crystal chandeliers were elegant and reassuring. Her eye was drawn almost immediately to Conor sitting in one of the plush gold and cream brocade chairs of the formal lobby. Even if she hadn’t known it was him, he was the kind of strikingly handsome man who turned heads. Though she was surprised to see him there, she was even more surprised that he did not greet her with his usual bright smile and kiss as he stood.

“Hi, Conor,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m so fucking upset with you, Sophie,” he replied, his voice low but tight with anger.

She took a step backward and looked around. The lobby was half-filled with others she could call upon if needed. She hadn’t in all these years experienced Conor’s anger and the force of it alarmed her.

He grabbed her arm before she could move farther away. “I’m going out of my mind trying to understand why you didn’t tell me Gavin’s a fucking coke addict.”

“Let me go,” she said, struggling with his tight grip.

“No, you’re going to stay right here and tell me what’s happening with my best mate. See, I went home to Dublin, got the runaround from him, and then when I did see him, he’s high as a fucking kite and offering to get me the same. And from what I’ve heard, this has been going on for months.”

“I’m not going to tell you again to let me go,” she said, her voice raised enough to be noticed by others.

He became aware of what he had been doing and quickly released her. “Don’t you get it, Sophie? Don’t you understand how bad this is?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“And you’re fucking facilitating him? He said you were fine with it. How could you be so goddamned stupid?”

“I didn’t know what to do. I wanted so much to believe it wouldn’t control him. He keeps saying it’s harmless,” she said quickly. “And I’ve been reading that William Styron book you gave me. You know, the one that talks about ‘incomplete mourning’ and how when someone isn’t able to have the catharsis of grief, he’s bound to suffer from rage and guilt, which could lead to self-destructive acts. And so maybe Gavin’s just acting out and?—”

“Stop this enabling shit right now.”

“But you know he needs to mourn?—”

“He can’t mourn someone who isn’t fucking dead. Goddamn it, what are you doing trying to justify this for him?”

She looked down and the tears that had been brimming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. “I’m not trying to justify it for him. I’m trying to justify it to myself,” she said, and covered her face with her hands.

“Oh, honey.” He pulled her into his arms and rocked her slowly, his anger seeming to dissipate as she fell apart.

“I just want to believe he’ll find his way out of this,” she mumbled into his neck.

“Shh, now.”

As he held her, she slowly regained a sense of calm. She took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. What she saw made her pull abruptly away from him.

Gavin stood fifteen feet away, watching them. His expression was hard to read. It wasn’t anger or jealousy. It was closer to curiosity, as if he couldn’t comprehend the sight of his wife in his best friend’s embrace.

“Gavin,” she said, and Conor turned to see what she had.

She quickly went to her husband and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, trying not to fall into tears again.

He must have heard the shakiness in her voice and decided not to go down the predictable route of demanding to know what had been happening, because he told her, “I’ve missed you something desperate, darlin’.”

Then he looked over Sophie’s shoulder and eyed Conor. “And you’re here. Why?” he asked.

“Don’t be paranoid, Gav. I came to see Colette. But I ran into your fragile wife first thing,” Conor replied.

“Let’s go up to my room, Gavin,” Sophie said, pulling at his arm.

“Yeah, let’s. And why don’t you go find your woman, Conor,” Gavin said.

“Sure, I will. Hey, since we’re both here, Gav, maybe we should work on writing the new album. What do you think?”

Sophie stared at Conor, hoping to convey a silent plea to stop provoking her husband.

“I’m not going to have a lot of free time. This trip is about Sophie and me. We’ll meet back up in Dublin.”

“Better count on that one,” Conor replied, and Sophie saw him shake his head as he watched them walk away.

In the elevator, Sophie soaked up the sight of Gavin. The fact that he had lost weight and had faint dark circles under his eyes did nothing to subdue the delight she felt in seeing him again. She was suddenly full of hope that things would right themselves, that they would be okay again.

“You’ve been crying,” he said, and gently stroked her cheek.

She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes briefly. The elevator stopped at their floor and she pulled him by the hand toward their room without replying.

They found a bottle of champagne on ice inside the room. She had forgotten about her request for it to be delivered in time for Gavin’s arrival.

“Shall we open it?” she asked brightly.

“Come here, darlin’,” he said.

She hesitated, but when she went to him and he wrapped his arms around her, she sighed from the pleasure of it. He had always told her they fit perfectly together and she knew it was true.

“Tell me why you were crying,” he whispered to her as he held her.

She closed her eyes tightly. What could she tell him when she knew he would dismiss her concerns and deny his addiction once again? He didn’t really want to know that her tears were because she was terrified that she’d lost him. That she’d never get him back. That he no longer needed her.

“Let’s not talk about it,” she said, and kissed him.

This was the way she could feel close to him, if only temporarily. Passion was the easiest thing to share and she clung to it with unmasked desperation. Afterward, he held her in his arms and it was the only place she wanted to be.

“I think I want to stop modeling,” she said.

He traced the curve of her breast with the back of his hand and waited for her to say more.

“It doesn’t make me happy anymore.”

“The modeling? Is that what’s making you unhappy?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I just want to be at home, with you.”

“I’ll be back in studio soon, then tour, so …”

His lack of enthusiasm for having her at home with him destroyed the hope she had felt earlier. She turned on her side away from him so he wouldn’t see the tears that spilled from her eyes and onto the pillow.

“What’s going on with you and Conor, then?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“He’s been a good friend, is all. He lets me cry on his shoulder about you.” She got up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Looking into the mirror, she noted her red-rimmed eyes and wondered what she was doing. Her husband seemed to have little interest in their marriage. Conor was in love with her and seemed willing to suffer all consequences to be with her. Part of her knew her best course of action would be to go to Los Angeles to be by herself for some time to grow strong in her own right. Not only could she do nothing to help Gavin with his troubles, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he did not want her to even try anymore. She felt helpless, overwhelmed with the feeling that she was unable to make any meaningful change at this point.

Gavin’s knock at the bathroom door pulled her from the downward spiral of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

He opened the door and poked his head in. “You okay, darlin’?”

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m great. Should we go get dinner?”

“Sophie—”

“Really, I’m fine. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

“No, Sophie, please,” he said as he moved to her. He held her face in his hands and kissed her.

This familiar action brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes as she responded to his kisses.

“Please don’t cry, sweet girl. Please. Those tears break my heart. And Jesus knows I deserve that much, but I just can’t take it,” he told her.

“What do you want, Gavin? What do you want from me?”

“Give us a smile,” he replied.

“Gavin—”

“Smile at me now like you did downstairs. God, that felt good—seeing you happy like that. You’re so beautiful.” He paused and considered her for a moment. “Does it mean anything to hear me say that to you, Sophie?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “It still means everything to me, baby. You still mean everything to me.”

“And you’re all that matters to me, darlin’. Don’t think that’s changed, okay? You’re still the thing I love most in this world. No matter what else is going on, you’re all that I hold dear.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he affirmed. “And I need you to not give up on me, on us. I know I’m fucking up. Believe me, I know I’m an insufferable bastard. But, please don’t let go. Please.”

She nodded. “I won’t let go. I promise.”

“Okay, then let’s clean up and then go out to dinner. Anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” she asked with a smile.

“Anywhere.”

“Okay, you might regret that. See, I’ve never, in all the times I’ve been to Paris, had a good look at the Eiffel Tower at night. Will you take me somewhere we can see it?”

“I’d do anything for you, darlin’,” he said.

Sophie nodded and smiled weakly. In the past, she would have believed this unreservedly. Things were no longer so simple.