CHAPTER FOURTEEN
He yawned and stretched. His hand touched the clothes; they gently fell on the mat. He sleepily picked them up, pulled off the pants he was wearing, and put on shorts and a vest. He then carefully opened the door to the living room. Jane was there, seated and looking at ease.
He nearly fainted; all of a sudden everything turned bleak, blood rushed from his head, his heart was beating hard against his chest. He broke a sweat and stood there aghast. He knew what the next step might be. If this love was a way of making him drop his guard, he was trapped with no way out. He waited for Jane to say something, of which she didn’t. Just a tearful look.
He knew she had discovered the truth. He supported himself against the door as his mind took a fast track to prison. Firstly, he had allowed Jane to be at his house alone all day, and then he’d fallen dead asleep to the point where he wouldn’t have heard so much as a breath from the next person. And if the presence of Maider had inhibited her from going through his stuff, his sleep then had undoubtedly given her a flat platform to do so. He quickly searched for options, and the only one that surfaced was to come clean before she could even ask. That would at least convince her that he was making an effort. Hopefully.
Jane pulled a cushion closer to her chest and squeezed it hard against her. She was three weeks pregnant and the monster standing in front of her was the father…for the first time, she hated him. She wished she could just abort the baby and send the son of a bitch to prison. He should be locked up till he rots. Her mind was in turmoil and she could not think straight anymore. She wanted to scream, “You bastard! Say something,” but she could not. She was too weak, and her mouth had dried up. Tears rolled down onto the pillow; she had no energy to scream and shout, but enough to allow the tears to flow freely. She had trembled, cried, and almost had a mental breakdown the day Gil broke into her house.
Now knowing that the man she loved, given her hope and faith in love, was her wrongdoer… all along her gut had been right. The Gil she knew was a fragile, gentle, and loving individual. Whenever he made love to her, be it on the couch, the kitchen, or anywhere they had it, he always made her feel special and complete as a woman, and now…now he was a monster—a sweet monster. She smiled somewhere inside her.
She waited for him to say something. He should say something. Someone so soft-spoken and gentle doesn’t just commit a crime. Something had forced him to do it. When they met, he already knew Jane. Why else would he fall for someone he had made to suffer? He was guilty and being in love with her was a way of saying he was sorry. It was a way of trying to give back what belonged to her. Any human being in their right state of mind wouldn’t risk being ambushed like Gil did. He deliberately did it. Jane managed to find solace in her thoughts. She hated herself for being so curious and invading the privacy of her boyfriend. He was going to tell her anyway.
Gil forced himself to take a step. Then another. He sat heavily on the couch, next to Jane, and placed his head between his hands. He sighed and looked at Jane. He pulled her closer to him and put an arm around her, she didn’t resist. Her head rested on his chest. He brushed her hair back with his fingers and kissed her forehead. He is so affectionate, she thought. She felt her heart leap with joy despite all the pain. The heavy confession she’d waited for, for the longest time now seemed to on its way.
He forced some labored words out, “I’m sorry darling…” Jane held her breath. He waited for her to explode in rage. To his surprise, she pulled her legs closer to her chest and curled up into a ball. The tears had dried up. She smiled. Gil expected the worst, and he was working on the words that he would use to try and calm her down; he knew a smile could pave way for an outburst. Especially with women. He waited…nothing came from her. She smiled again. Gil was now puzzled, he wanted to ask her what was going on, but then he closed his mouth mid-way, not wanting to invite the worst. The best thing was to tell her who he is and hope for the best out of his honesty.
He started with a very low and shaky voice, “Remember when you talked about the missing Gil on our first meeting?” Her eyes immediately shone, the sorrowful face melted, she was again the most beautiful lady Gil had ever met. The sudden change in her behavior perplexed Gil, what was she crying for? She sensed his confusion and smiled inwardly. “Of course I remember him. Gil, the poor lad. What’s wrong with him?” she teased. He had already sold himself out, he could have asked her what was going on before confessing; anyway it was high time he confessed. “Well…” He tried to find the words. “As you may already know, I am the Rakops Gil. Your suspicion was correct and I regret what I did to you.” He waited for a response. A worse response than a mere outburst, but nothing came. He resumed his narration.
“I first felt attracted to you the day I robbed you, and it was therefore hard for me to not touch you.” He waited for her to explode, to storm out of the house, to scream, kick, throw things and throw a dozen punches at him, something, for Pete’s sake! And yet there she was in his arms, peaceful, calm and so much at ease. She was quiet as if he had not told her the shocker of her life. What is wrong with this woman? He wondered.
She was not reacting at all. Any lady would have screamed, slapped him, and even threatened to call the police. She tilted her head up…he tensed, waiting for the words, and what she said froze him, “I love you Gil, and my instincts have always told me, you are that monster.” She was not angry or bothered; she was just her normal self. It confused him even more; he expected an outrage.
“I am glad you told me, at least you had the guts to tell me. It means a lot.” And that was all she said. Their night was pretty much quiet. Before them going to bed, Jane had hugged him so tight, caressed his lips, before telling him what was really troubling her. “I am pregnant with your child,” she told him with tear-filled eyes, and they immediately shot bright with delight and perhaps happiness. “What pained me most was the confusion I had about your true identity. I have, since day one, had a feeling you are that Gil. The idea of having your baby without the certainty of who you are is what bothered me. It did hurt me a lot. The possibility of confirming my suspicions about you weighed so heavily on me.” She huddled into his chest and gave a long, labored sigh.
Sunday morning was chilly; the rain from the previous night was still drizzling. Gil shook Jane, who lazily opened one eye. She wasn’t in bad shape despite the crying from last night. She rolled a towel around her naked body and went to the bathroom. She filled the tub with warm water, and stepped in… a few minutes later she emerged from the bathroom. She got dressed. It was a Sunday and she had to go back to work. She may have acted calm to Gil’s confessions, but they weighed so heavily on her heart she didn’t know what to do. Whether to treat it as a blessing in disguise or to take action against him, after all, she could manage raising a bastard child. She had a job and had no other commitments, so raising a kid wouldn’t be a problem. She let her confusion drift away, and decided she’d make a solid decision when she got home, alone. Just her and her thoughts…
She knew better than to decide while she was still emotional. She made breakfast for two of them; they eat in silence. She somehow managed to give a little bit of a lift to the tension that’d almost ruled the previous night. She cleared the table and got ready for her departure. They passed through Maider’s for Jane to say bye to her friend before Gil dropped her off at the rank. They were surprised to see Prof’s car parked in the yard. None of their business, they concluded. They knocked, and a half-naked Maider opened the door for them. They had a short conversation and Gil dropped Jane at the rank afterward.
He drove back home at a very slow pace. He had told her, and she had not freaked out but had rather replied simply, and that had worried him the whole night. In reality, anyone who had gone through such an ordeal would have exploded with a variety of emotions, anger mostly, and even threatened to bring the police on him. Jane had done the exact opposite. Or perhaps the love she had for him had doused the fires in her? Had he met his fate? He wondered. For Jane what he had told her meant a lot, and what was this ‘lot’? The answer was nowhere to be found, and for once the previous night he’d felt happy and proud of himself, at least he had made her pregnant. Perhaps that would give him a free pass, a literal get-out-of-jail-free card. He laughed at the precision of the last part. He quit thinking, hit fate now relied on what Jane would decide and say. Surely she would call and confront him about the confession. He parked the car and went back to bed.