Gabriel's Rapture - Page 56/68


Julia blinked at Gabriel as understanding washed over her. “No Harvard,” she whispered.

“No Harvard this year and probably no Harvard ever, since they would have been suspicious as to why the University of Toronto was suspending your grade. Even if Harvard never learned the reason, they have so many applications. Why should they give you a second thought when they could admit someone with a spotless record?”

Julia sat very still, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

Gabriel scratched at his chin in agitation. “I was afraid the hearing officers were going to ruin your future. But it was my fault. I’m the one who persuaded you that it was safe to get involved with me; I’m the one who invited you to Italy. I should have waited. My selfishness is what led to all this.”

He gazed into her eyes and lowered his voice. “I’m sorry I ruined our last night together. I should have talked to you. But all I could think about was how worried I was. I never should have treated you the way I did.”

“I felt so alone the next morning.”

“It was the worst way for me to deal with my anxiety. But I hope that you believe me when I tell you that it wasn’t just a…” He paused, stumbling. “A fuck to me. Every time we were together it was always, always done with love. I swear.”

Julia dropped her gaze to the futon. “For me too. There’s never been anyone else, before or since.”

He closed his eyes for an instant, relief coursing through him. Even though she’d felt angry and betrayed, she hadn’t followed her anger to another man’s arms. She hadn’t given up on him completely.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

He took a deep breath before continuing. “When you confessed to our relationship and I saw the Dean’s reaction, I knew we were caught. My lawyer was prepared to stonewall, hoping that the committee would excuse me or hand down a ruling that I could challenge in court. But when you confessed, you provided the corroboration the committee needed.”

“We had an agreement to show a united front. An agreement, Gabriel.” Julia’s voice grew heated.

“I acquiesced to you in good faith, Julianne. But I also promised that I wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt you or to end your career. That promise takes precedence.”

“An agreement is a promise.”

Gabriel leaned forward. “They were threatening your future. Did you really expect me to sit there and watch it happen?”

When she didn’t respond, he challenged her. “Did you sit there and say nothing when they told you they were pursuing charges against me?”

Her eyes flew to his. “You know I didn’t. I pleaded with them. They wouldn’t listen.”

“Exactly.” His blue eyes bored into hers. “From whom do you think I learned about self-sacrifice?”

She shook her head, not bothering to contradict him. “If we broke the rules, then why didn’t the Dean try to punish both of us?”

“I’m the professor; I should have known better. And Professor Chakravartty was on your side from the very beginning. She doesn’t think professor-student relationships can be consensual. And sadly for us, they found that old email of yours.”

“So it was my fault.”

Gabriel gently leaned over and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. “No. I persuaded you that we could break the rules and get away with it. And then, instead of taking responsibility for my actions, I sat there behind my lawyer. You were the only one brave enough to tell the truth. And once you did, I had to confess.

“I agreed to accept their sanctions if they brought the investigation to a speedy conclusion. The hearing officers were only too glad to dispose of the matter without a lawsuit and they agreed, promising leniency.”

Julia wore a pained expression.

“Unfortunately, their definition of lenience and mine were two different things. I expected to be censured, not forced to take a leave of absence.”

He scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Jeremy was furious at the prospect of losing me, even for a semester. I’d caused a scandal that would embarrass not only him but my colleagues and the other students in the department. Christa was filing a lawsuit against the university too. It was a huge mess, and I was at the root of it.”

“We were at the root of it, Gabriel. I knew the rules, and I broke them too.”

He gave her a half-smile. “The rules are written in such a way as to excuse the student because the professor is the one with the power.”

“The only power you had over me was love.”

He kissed her softly. “Thank you.”

Gabriel’s heart was full, almost to the brim. She hadn’t looked back at their time together and viewed him the way the hearing officers did. She hadn’t recoiled when he kissed her. In fact, her lips had welcomed him. She gave him hope that by the end of his story, she’d still be at his side.

“When they brought Jeremy in, I begged him to help us. I promised I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” Julia asked.

He shifted again. “I had no idea he was going to side with the hearing officers and demand that I cease all contact with you. It was a rash promise made in a fit of desperation.”

Julia moved away from him. “What did he say?”

“He persuaded the committee to place me on administrative leave. It was effectively a suspension, but they didn’t call it that in order to avoid tainting the department. I was also prohibited from supervising female graduate students for a term of three years.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”


He pressed his lips together. “I was told to end things with you immediately and cease all contact. They said if I violated this condition, the agreement would be void and they would re-open the investigation, into both of us.” He paused, seemingly struggling for words.

“If they thought I was a victim, why would they threaten to investigate me again?”

Gabriel’s blue eyes cooled. “The Dean suspected you were telling the truth—that our relationship was consensual and that I was trying to save your reputation. He wasn’t about to let us go off into the sunset together. That’s why I sent you the email.”

“That email was cruel.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows knitted together. “I know. But since I was sending it from my university account to your university account, I assumed you’d realize it was all for show. Have I ever spoken to you like that before?”

She gave him a challenging look.

He winced. “I mean, have I spoken to you like that since I realized who you were?”

“Could the university really demand that you stop talking to me?”

Gabriel shrugged. “They did. The threat of Christa’s lawsuit was hanging over all of us. Jeremy seemed to think that if I took a leave of absence that he could convince Christa to drop the lawsuit. And he did. But once again, he said that if he found out I was still seeing you, he wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“That’s academia. Christa’s lawsuit would have damaged the department, possibly irreparably. Jeremy would have lost the ability to recruit top faculty and students because people would hear that it wasn’t a safe place to be. I didn’t want to be embroiled in a scandal any more than he did, and I certainly didn’t want you hauled into a courtroom as a witness.”

Gabriel cleared his throat, clearly struggling. “I agreed. Jeremy and the Dean made it clear that they would interview you at the end of the semester to see if I’d kept my promise. I had no choice.”

Julia toyed with the folds of her dress. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you demand a recess so you could explain what was happening? We were a couple, Gabriel. We were supposed to work together.”

He swallowed thickly. “What would have happened if I’d taken you aside and explained what I was about to do?”

“I wouldn’t have let you go through with it.”

“Exactly. I wasn’t going to allow you to lose everything because of my failures. I couldn’t live with that. I only hoped that you would forgive me—someday.”

Julia was stunned.

“You were willing to risk everything to save me, thinking that I might not forgive you?”

“Yes.”

Julia felt her eyes grow teary, and she swiped at them blindly. “I wish you could have told me.”

“So do I, but I promised Jeremy that I’d stay away. Before he entered the hallway, I tried to speak to you, but John and Soraya kept interrupting.”

“I know, but—”

He interrupted her. “If I’d told you it was only temporary, they would have realized from your expression. They would have known I had no intention of following through on my promise. I’d given my word.”

“But you planned to break it.”

“Yes. Yes, I did.” He was quiet again for a moment, looking off into the distance.

“That doesn’t make sense, Gabriel. You made all kinds of promises to them, but you broke them. You put the textbook in my box, you wrote me a message…”

“I planned to do more. I was going to email you, saying that it was only until the end of the semester. Once you’d graduated and I’d resigned, we would renew our relationship. That is, if you still wanted me.”

Gabriel’s voice dropped. “I knew you would be watched. And that the Dean would interview you to find out if I’d kept my promise. I worried about your ability to lie.”

“That’s bullshit,” said Julia fiercely. “You could have sent me an email and explained that I needed to pretend to be heartbroken. I’m not a great actress, but I can act a little.”

“There were other—factors.”

She closed her eyes. “When I fell, you looked at me as if you hated me. You looked disgusted.”

“Julia, please.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to his chest. “That look was not meant for you. Any disgust I felt was directed at the hearing and myself. That look was not meant for you, I swear.”

Julia shed more than a few tears at that moment, the consequence of shock and anxiety and a measure of relief at having her questions answered. But some of the most important questions remained.

“I hate that I’ve made you cry again,” Gabriel said ruefully, running a hand up and down her back to comfort her.

Julia wiped her eyes. “I need to go home.”

“You can stay with me tonight.” He glanced down at her cautiously.

She was conflicted. Staying with him could possibly undercut all the things she had yet to say, but running back to her cold, dark apartment seemed cowardly. As always, she knew that once she allowed herself to curl into his side, her body and heart would drag her mind along with them.

“I should go.” She sighed in defeat. “But I can’t bring myself to leave right now.”

“Then stay—in my arms.” He kissed her forehead, murmuring his love against her skin.

Slowly, he extricated himself from her embrace and retrieved a couple of blankets, pausing to blow out the candles as he did so. He left the tea lights lit in the Moroccan lamps overhead, admiring the play of light and color against the walls of the tent. The very air shimmered.