Chapter 422 - In Which We Have To Be Better

Gael had a blaring headache when he woke up, feeling disoriented when he opened his eyes and found himself in a stranger's bed alone, wearing absolutely nothing under the blanket. The sheets were pale pink and silky. For a tiny second, a pang of guilt spread through him, afraid that he'd somehow ended up going home with a woman from the club after he'd blacked out last night. He was horrified.

That only lasted for a couple of seconds, though. Then the memory of seeing Angela sleeping on the same bed when he arrived last night, her tending to his wounds in the bathroom, and him fucking her on the counter came rushing in his head, and he was instantly relieved. "Cazzo." He massaged his temples, cursing the drinks he had last night.

He could never believe that he'd be too drunk not to know what he'd be doing. He'd never allow himself to go home with a stranger, and his men knew he wouldn't want that to happen either, so they'd watch him closely and prevent that from happening. Especially now. Ever since they'd known about his fixation on Angela, his men had been loyal to her too.

Where was Angela anyway?

Gael checked his watch on the nightstand. He had it fixed before coming back to Mayne. Thank god there was a branch in Manhattan, and the store repaired it without billing him. It turned out that Angela had the watch insured for five years. He made a mental note to renew it for life. The watch was good as new now.

It was nine in the morning, and a noise came from outside, sounding like pots, pans, and glasses clinking. He quickly washed his face and mouth in the bathroom, grabbed his pants from the floor, and shoved his legs into them. He knew that Nina should have already left for work at seven, so he didn't bother with a shirt and walked out of the bedroom topless.

He found Angela in a messy kitchen, plating some bacon and then pouring juice into glasses. The corners of his lips curled into a handsome smile as he leaned sideways against the door frame, folding his arms across his broad chest and crossing his legs at the ankles. She had her back to him, so she hadn't noticed him yet, and he enjoyed the show of her moving from here to there, wearing his torn shirt and hopefully no panties.

That's not the only thing that got him smiling. Angela was actually cooking. The eggs were sunny-side-up, and the bacon strips were perfectly cooked—well, most of them except for two that looked nearly burnt. There were even waffles on two plates and glasses of fresh orange juice. 

"Wow. Only a week and you've turned into a chef," he said, his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep.

Angela turned around with a huge smile on her face. Damn it. She was so beautiful his chest hurt.

"Morning." She put the plates down on the breakfast bar and hurried towards him, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips and then pulling back before he could grab her by the waist. She held his hand and made him sit at the breakfast bar. "I sorta burned the eggs a little, though… Just slice the sides."

"No, this is perfect. I'm not wasting anything you cooked for me." The eggs weren't burned at all—the crispy sides added texture. It was just the way he liked it—like how his mother made for him back then.

Angela looked so happy. She told him that the waffle batter was store-bought, and she threw a few strips of bacon that burned. But all he cared about was that she made this for him even when she knew she was bad at it at first. 

"You really made these for me?" He smiled.

She lifted her chin in confidence. "I promised you I would redeem myself and make you breakfast. So you can stop teasing me about my cooking."

She learned for him. He had teased her about burning the kitchen down before, but that was only because she looked so cute when annoyed. He'd probably still continue to tease her about it, but that morning, he was so touched all he could do was stare at her with a smile on his face. 

He must have been so hungry—probably for not eating well the past week—that he devoured everything on his plate, not leaving even a tiny bit. The food was so delicious. It was so much better than yesterday's brunch and other breakfast meals he'd ever eaten before. He even burped. "Fuck. Sorry." They laughed. 

She gently brushed her fingers on his cheek, her brows slightly knitting in worry. "I'm glad you're eating. You've lost weight… You look like you haven't eaten for days."

His smile fell when he was reminded of what caused it all back in New York. Gael downed the rest of his drink and got up. He began putting the dishes into the sink, and Angela did the same. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them, but neither of them spoke until they had cleaned up the counters and there was nothing left to do.

They were alone in the apartment, but the closed space started to become a little stuffy. He was just about to tell her to get dressed so they could go somewhere and talk when she spoke first.

"Is everything okay? You don't look so happy like something's bothering you. They withdrew the arrangement… Wasn't that a good thing? Did something happen that you didn't tell me about?"

Gael looked up to the ceiling, exhaling a slightly shaky breath. He had been avoiding talking about it for a while, but there was no avoiding it now.

Angela could see the pain in his eyes when he faced her again, and they were misty. Her heart raced, and she felt like crying even before he started.

"J's gone."

She drew her brows together. "What do you mean? Is...he back in Australia?" she asked despite already feeling that it wasn't the case. Now her heart was pounding in her chest.

"He's dead."

"No…" Her hands flew to her face. She blinked, and tears slid down her cheeks in parallel tracks. She was in shock, but she listened as he told her everything that happened when she left. 

Gael rarely saw her cry, and now she was crying for him.

Angela circled her arms around him, pulling him to her tight. "Oh, I'm so sorry about J… I feel so bad for Mika. And Gabby… No wonder she didn't respond to me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you left and didn't want to be a part of it. And you shouldn't be. It wasn't your war. What would you have done if you knew?"

She pulled back, and her brows deeply furrowed like she was hurt. She and J weren't close, but she knew how important he was to Gael, and that was enough for her to care about him. To Gael, J was like a brother and a son in one. 

"What would I have done?" She huffed. "Gael… Of course, I would have flown back in a heartbeat. If I had known, I would've been there by your side."

His lips flattened into a thin line. He thought he might have handled it better, too, if she was there. But he shook his head and sat on the dining chair, pulling at his hair. "That's what I was afraid of. Angel, I already lost J…and my sister to them. I wouldn't survive if I lost you too. I'd kill myself if that happened."

Angela softened her gaze and exhaled a pained sigh. She held his face and looked into his eyes as she told him, "Can you not keep things like these from me anymore? I need to know that you see me as your equal. We have to be better if we want us to work."

Gael pulled her to him and buried his face against her chest, his arms wrapped around her frame. He held her so tight that she could feel her shirt getting damp where his face was. That's when she realized that he was silently crying. She didn't think that he would bawl his eyes out, but tears were coming out from them, and he occasionally sniffed. Angela's heart bled for him, and she started crying too. Gael had been through so much the past week. She circled her arms around him as if she wanted him to know that she got him, gently brushing his back as she whispered, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you."

He pulled her down to his lap and nuzzled into her hair, filling his lungs with her scent. Then his breathing steadied. "You're here now.. That's all that matters."