5. Gabriella
5
Gabriella
March
I love the water.
And it's not because I live in Florida or because I own a home on the beach. It's not even that my July birthday aligns with the water sign Cancer of the Zodiac. No. It’s because the water soothes me. It calms me. And in a life that is always moving and changing, the water remains a constant for me.
When I see its depth and expanse, it puts everything into perspective, making me realize that my problems, no matter how overwhelming they may feel, are small compared to the greater world around me. Even when the chaos of life becomes too much, I’m reminded that the ocean rages sometimes too, but no matter how tumultuous the storm may be, it will eventually subside, leaving behind a sense of clarity and tranquillity in the calm waves.
And today, I need the serenity. Because today, I had to tell a first-time expecting mom that her baby was dead. I need to forget the look on her face when I said I couldn’t find a heartbeat. That sometime between now and her previous ultrasound, the fetus died.
You would think telling them the bad news or listening to them cry afterward would be the worst part. But for me, it’s the questions afterward. It's not because I don’t care to answer them, I do. It's because I don’t have an answer for them. Medically, there’s no rhyme or reason to it. These things happen. The human body is a wondrous thing and sometimes it can sense when there may be something wrong with the pregnancy and abort it on its own. But no grieving mother wants to hear that. All that matters to them is that their baby is dead with no answer for why. And the what ifs will haunt them always. Just as the silent black-and-white screen will haunt me.
I drop my bag on the chaise lounge close to the water’s edge and slip my sandals off. The sand beneath my feet is soft and warm from the sun and I wiggle my toes in it, savoring the familiar feeling. I grab the bottom of my cover-up, pull it over my head, and toss the flimsy white material on top of my bag. The sun warms my bikini exposed skin, and after spending the day in scrubs at a chilly hospital, the warmth feels incredible. I take a moment to enjoy it. ?
Grabbing my goggles, I make my way down to where the waves kiss the shore. The tepid water gently caresses my ankles, soothing away the stress of my day with each gentle lap. When the water is knee high, I don my goggles and dive below the surface, plunging into the ocean’s cool embrace. It envelops me like a soothing hug, as if the water somehow understands the pain I feel and wants to help ease it.
Sunlight dances on the surface, casting shadowy patterns below that shift in time with the rhythm of the waves providing a clear view of the ocean’s depths below. It’s a beautiful world teeming with life and mystery. A variety of colorful fish dart among the swaying sea plants beneath me. Several are curious about my presence in their home and they come up to greet me before quickly swimming away.
I glide through the water effortlessly. The discipline and rhythm of stroke, kick, stroke, kick, breath…becomes a lullaby, calming my mind and soothing my depression until the weight of the days lifts off my shoulders to be carried away by the tide. Before I know it, I reach my turn around spot, a small sandbar now underwater because of the high tide, and start my swim back. It’s roughly a mile out and a mile back, making the trip a good exercise physically and mentally.
Rising from the water, I grab a towel from my bag and wrap it around myself before sinking to the sand to watch the sun set in a beautiful display of colors. Shimmering reds and oranges, tinged with pink and indigo, fill the horizon and reflect off the ocean stretching out in front. Soon, the sun will disappear below the horizon, replaced by the moon, and the stars will appear like twinkling lights in the velvet black expanse.
“Hey, cuz.” A voice breaks the quiet.
I know the voice, but glance over my shoulder to check anyway and to make sure he’s alone. “Hey, Dominic.”
He collapses beside me in a giant huff, stretching out his long legs before leaning back on his elbows. Dominic is my cousin, and only son of my dad’s brother, Uncle Leo, but he looks nothing like my brothers and I. His hair is short and blond while ours is dark brown. He has a slightly paler complexion than our naturally tanned olive skin. The only thing he shares with us is the DiAngelo family’s light hazel eyes. And the same cocky, stubborn attitude.
“Have a rough day?” he asks.
“How’d you know?”
“You went for a swim in the ocean when you have a perfectly good pool at your house.” Dominic knows me so well. He knows I swim when my head is heavy, but that I only do so in the ocean when my heart is heavy too. “You’ve been doing that more lately,” he reveals.
He’s right. I have been. “Clinical rounds have been harder this semester. That’s all.” There’s no need to dive into the details and relive the memory of my day. Dominic has enough of his own demons. I don’t need to burden him with mine.
“If you say so.” He gives me a side-eyed look, telling me that he knows I'm lying. “My ear is available if you ever need it, though.”
“Thank you. So, you want to tell me why you’re here?”
Dominic heaves a heavy sigh. “No real reason. I just had to get away from Michael. He’s driving me up a wall with his insane need to find that girl he met at Sinners in January.”
“He’s still looking? I thought he gave up.” Michael met a stranger on his birthday, a beautiful redhead woman with enchanting green eyes. I only know what she looks like because I’ve heard nothing but her from my brother for the last few months. Michael doesn’t believe in fairy tales or anything like that, but the way he described seeing her that night sounds a lot like love at first sight. Or maybe lust because they ended up fucking in a bathroom, only for her to disappear afterward. The girl, Rose, seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth because Michael can not find her despite exhausting every resource at his disposal. He’s been a complete nuisance ever since and it's made for some tension in the family. Needless to say, our Sunday family dinners have not been the most enjoyable lately.
“He told Uncle Dante that he has, but he still has Enzo and I running searches. His latest request is to search abroad.”
“Would it help if I talked to him?”
Dominic snorts. “Probably not, but—” He shrugs and then sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe it’ll help.”
I nod, adding to my already long to-do list to knock some sense into my big brother’s head. Not that I’m really the best person to be giving advice to my brother on the matter of obsession. I’ve been harboring my own, and it’s not with a red-haired, green-eyed woman, but a dark-haired man with ice blue eyes.
Dimitri Volkov.
Ever since that night where he stepped in and rescued me from that man who couldn’t take no for an answer, he’s been on my mind non-stop. He’s been the object of all my desires and the star of every wet dream. Might as well nickname my vibrator Dimitri at this point. Besides, it’s harmless to imagine him since nothing will ever happen between us. It can’t. So what does it matter? Who’s it going to hurt?
Beside me, Dominic’s stomach growls. He looks at me with a sheepish grin. “I may have also come over for some of that Chicken Primavera you make.”
I shove his shoulder playfully. “I knew it.” Standing, I brush the sand from my body and reach for my cover, slipping it on before motioning to my grinning cousin. “Come on. I’m hungry too.”
An hour later, I’m placing a plate of steaming hot food in front of Dominic and then sitting across from him with my own plate. My cousin dives in and I smile at his lack of manners.?
“So, what are your plans tonight?” Dominic asks in between huge bites.
I shrug. “A bottle of wine, some sappy rom-com and probably ice cream.”
Dominic makes a face like he thinks my plans sound horrible. I guess to him it is. “What are you on your period or something?”
“Not that it is any of your business, but no.” I toss my napkin att him for extra points.
He just laughs and bats it away. “When was the last time you went out?”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from admitting that I went to the Playground because that has to remain a secret. “I don’t know. Guess it’s been a while. But I’m focused on school right now. Fun can wait until I’ve graduated.”
“But life doesn’t wait. You know that.” He reaches out across the table and covers my hand with his. “Promise me you’ll try to find some time for yourself. One night will not kill you.”
Debatable. I sandwich his hand between mine by placing my other hand on top of his. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I lie, “I promise.”
He narrows his eyes on me, like he can see the fib, but doesn’t push me. Checking his phone, he sighs. “Got to run. Business calls.” Standing, he takes his plate to the sink. “Dinner was delicious, cuz. Dare I say better than Aunt Alice?”
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, right. If my mom hears you say that, she’ll beat you senseless and then starve you for a month.” I escort Dominic to the front door and give him a big hug. “Love you, Dom.”
He kisses the crown of my head, returning my hug with a tight squeeze. “Love you too, cuz.”
After Dominic leaves, I clean up after dinner, save the leftovers for tomorrow, and start the dishwasher before heading to the master suite to shower off the ocean. The shower delivers warm water from opposite sides of the tile space, along with a rainfall shower head in the center, creating a soothing downpour. For a moment, I stand there, enjoying the warm water cascade down my naked body, feeling my skin grow flush with heat. It feels nearly as good as the ocean water did.
I raise my hands, cupping my breasts first before sliding them up to my neck and into my hair, giving the strands a firm tug, closing my eyes at the sensation. Ever since my visit to the Playground , I can’t get the damn night out of my head. Nothing I do helps. And I’ve tried several things. My poor vibrator has had the batteries changed twice now from my need to feel something. Anything similar to that night. The show was tempting, the atmosphere intoxicating, and it woke something in me I can’t quite put into words.
Releasing my hair, my hands move down, pinching my nipples before skirting down my stomach before finally reaching the apex between my thighs. It’s not my hands, I feel. But his. My blue-eyed hero who lives in the shadows. I imagine it’s his fingers entering me, his thumb circling the bundle of nerves already sensitive and eager. I imagine everywhere the water falls it is his touch, his lips, his tongue.
My orgasm gathers at the base of my spine, the familiar tightening and sensation building. I chase the feeling, pumping my fingers faster, brushing against the spot inside me that makes me jerk each time as my thumb works my clit quicker. I raise my other hand to my breast and pinch my nipple, needing the little bit of pain to send me over the edge. When my orgasm crashes over me, the shower water does little to muffle my cry.
But it’s not enough.
I want more.
I crave more.
A terrible but necessary idea forms. I have to go back to the Playground . Against his orders, but I’m desperate.
I need Dimitri Volkov.