I didn’t receive this.”

Gabriel gave her a tortured expression. “I know.”

She looked at the screen again and saw that the date and time

of the email corresponded with Gabriel’s story. But the addressee

of the email was not her. In fact, the actual recipient was someone entirely different.

J.H. Martin.

Julia’s eyes widened as the magnitude of Gabriel’s error suddenly

became very, very clear. Instead of sending the email to Julianne H.

Mitchell, he’d sent it to Jeremy H. Martin, the Chair of the Department of Italian Studies.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

He plucked the phone from her hand, muttering curses. “Every

time I tried to do something for you, it backfired. I tried to save you, and the hearing officers were suspicious. I tried to give you a clue in conversation, and I made you feel like I’d abandoned you. I tried to email you, and I sent the email to the very person who’d forbidden me to contact you. Honestly, Julia, were it not for the fact that I hoped that someday we would be having this conversation, I would

have stepped out into rush hour traffic on Bloor Street and ended it.”

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“Don’t say things like that. Don’t even think it.”

Julia’s sudden show of fierceness pleased him, but he found him-

self back-pedaling quickly. “Losing you was a low point for me. But suicide isn’t an option I’d entertain again.” He gave her a look that seemed to signify much more than he could say at that moment.

“Jeremy was furious. He’d put his career and his department on

the line to help me and I’d gone behind his back two minutes later.

Now he had proof, in writing, that I was breaking my agreement

with the committee. I had no choice but to do whatever he said. If he sent my email to the Dean, the repercussions would have been

devastating for both of us.”

At that moment, Gabriel and Julia were interrupted by Rebecca,

who joined them on the patio, carrying a pitcher of homemade lem-

onade garnished with a few frozen raspberries that floated delicately in the cloud of yellow. She served their drinks with an encouraging smile and vanished back into the house.

Gabriel drank greedily, enjoying his reprieve.

“So?” prompted Julia, sipping her lemonade.

“Jeremy told me to stay away from you. I had no choice. He held

Damocles’s sword in his hand.”

“He let you go?”

“With a handshake and a promise.” Gabriel grimaced as the

memory of that dreadful conversation haunted him. “He showed

me mercy. Then more than ever I felt obligated to keep my word. I

resolved not to contact you directly until you were already assured your place at Harvard.”

Julia shook her head stubbornly. “But what about me, Gabriel?

You made a lot of promises to me. Didn’t you think about keeping

them?”

“Of course. Before I left Toronto, I put the textbook in your

mailbox. I thought you’d find the passage in Abelard’s letter and read what I wrote on the back of the photograph.”

“But I didn’t realize it was from you. I didn’t even look at it until the night you came to see me. That’s why I was running outside. I

didn’t have an internet connection in my apartment and I wanted

to email you.”

“What would you have said?”

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Sylvain Reynard

“I don’t know. You have to understand that I thought you’d had

enough of me. That you’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble.” Tears sprang to Julia’s dark eyes, and she brushed them aside.

“I’m the only one in this relationship who was never worth the

trouble. I knew I’d put myself in a situation in which I was careless with your heart. But it wasn’t done to hurt you. It was pride and bad judgment and mistake after mistake.” He looked down at his hands

and began to turn the wedding ring around his finger.

“Katherine Picton tried to help me. She said she’d see that the

university left you alone during my absence and that she would do

everything she could to help you graduate on time. She mentioned

that an old friend of hers had left the Department of Romance Studies at Boston University in order to take a position at UCLA. She

wanted my permission to nominate me as his replacement. I asked

her to go ahead.

“I interviewed for the position, and while I waited for their decision, I went to Italy. I had to do something to shake myself out of my depression before I did something I would regret.”

Julia’s stomach suddenly tightened. “Something you would

regret?”

“Not women. The mere idea of being with someone else made

me sick. I was more worried about other — vices.”

“Before you go any further, I need to tell you something.” Her

voice was stronger and more determined than the will behind it.

Gabriel began to watch her carefully, wondering what in the

world she was about to reveal.

“When I told you that my relationship with Paul didn’t go beyond

friendship, what I said was true. Technically.”

“Technically?” Gabriel’s eyebrows flew up and his voice lowered

to a growl.

“He wanted more. He told me he loved me. And we — kissed.”

Gabriel was silent for a moment or two, and Julia watched as

his knuckles whitened.

“Is Paul who you want?”

“He was a friend to me when I needed one. But I never had

romantic feelings for him. I think you know this already, but you

ruined me for other men when I was seventeen.” Her voice trembled.

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“But you kissed him.”

“Yes, I did.” Julia leaned over and with a gentle hand, brushed a

lock of hair away from Gabriel’s forehead. “But that’s all. I had no idea you were coming back to me, but I still turned him down.” She withdrew her hand. “Not because I wouldn’t have had a good life

with him. But because he wasn’t you.”

“I’m sure that distressed him.” Gabriel sounded sarcastic.

“I broke his heart,” said Julia, her shoulders hunching. “And I

took no pleasure in doing so.”

The sight of Julia’s obvious discomfort tugged at him, but he

couldn’t disguise the relief at her admission that he had no rivals in her affection. He squeezed her shoulder before he spoke.

“I was worried that if we had any contact and Paul found out

about it, he’d run and tell Jeremy.”

“He wouldn’t have done that. He was good to me, even after I

broke his heart.” Julia smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of her yellow dress. “I know you said you were faithful, and I’m not questioning you on that. But did anyone — kiss you?”

“No.” He smiled ruefully. “I’d make a good Dominican or Je-

suit, don’t you think? With my new virtue of celibacy? Although I

discovered during our separation that I don’t have the disposition to be a Franciscan.”

Julia gave him a quizzical look.

“That’s a story for another day.”

She squeezed his hand in affection and withdrew it, silently

willing him to finish his story.

“If I wasn’t offered the position at BU, I was going to resign my

job in Toronto. All I had to do was keep myself together until after graduation.

“I wanted to feel close to you, to remember a happier time, so I

went to Italy. Truthfully, Julianne, those days with you in Florence and Umbria were the happiest days of my life.” He averted his eyes.

“I even went to Assisi.”

“To become a Franciscan?” She smirked.

“Hardly. I visited the Basilica and I thought I saw you.”

He looked over at her hesitantly, wondering if she would think

that he was disturbed. “Your doppelgänger led me to the lower church and down to the crypt, to the tomb of St. Francis.

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Sylvain Reynard

“At first, I stared at the young woman, wishing she was you. Wish-

ing I hadn’t made so many mistakes. I was confronted by my own

failures. My sin. I’d made an idol of you. I’d worshipped you, like a pagan. Then when I lost you, I was in danger of losing everything. I told myself I needed you to save me, that I was nothing without you.

“I began to see how I’d been given chance after chance. Through

no goodness of my own, I’d been given grace and love. And I’d thrown it away or treated it cheaply. I didn’t deserve the family who adopted me. I didn’t deserve Maia, who was the best part of my relationship with Paulina. I didn’t deserve to survive the drugs and graduate from Harvard. I didn’t deserve you.”

He paused and brushed at his eyes again, but this time the

moisture didn’t abate.

“Grace isn’t something we deserve, Gabriel,” Julia said softly. “It comes from love. And God wraps the world in second chances and

sticky little leaves and mercy, even though some people don’t want them.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “Precisely.

“In the crypt of the Basilica, something happened. I realized you

couldn’t save me. And I found — peace.”

“Sometimes we search for grace until it catches us.”

“How are you not an angel?” he breathed. “Whatever happened

to me, it made me want to be good. My experience caused me to

focus on God, but also to love you more. I’ve always been attracted to your goodness, Julianne. But I believe I love you more deeply