Mister Corner, your errant wife returns...
Ten days of sun, sand, and surf had not been enough to distract Rachel's obsessive mind. She was inclined to lay the blame toward everything but herself, from the less-than-satisfactory weather in Ibiza, to her reluctant, if willing, choice of travel companions. But the truth was, running away hadn't done exactly what it was supposed to do. And for that, Rachel thought, perhaps, she was unable to blame on anyone except herself. For her disarrayed state of mind, however, there was only one person at fault for, and he was somewhere in England.
It might have turned into a real holiday she could enjoy, if it hadn't been for some very disturbing words he'd uttered during their argument—foremost amongst them that he loved her. Even now, so many days later, Rachel was inclined to believe it wasn't true; it couldn't be true! They'd been married less than six months. They'd only known each other in the most basic manner since the end of October! That wasn't enough time to start loving somebody, particularly not somebody as outrageously flawed as herself. But when she'd begun to voice the same thoughts to Gabriel, he'd merely insisted that it was the truth. Regardless of whether or not it was, Rachel found herself being able to think of little else besides it. What if, one day, he decided her voice mattered little in their future decisions? He loved her. What if he let his mother take a place of importance in their lives, allowing her to make decisions and pass judgment that outweighed Rachel's? He loved her. What if he never took an active position in their marriage anyway, and went about doing whatever the first strong female figure told him to do? He loved her.
Even with this information thrust in front of her face and seldom leaving her alone enough to consider other aspects of the situation, it didn't feel like an assurance or truth or explanation. It didn't feel like much of anything, except perhaps an excuse to break her heart in future, which disturbed Rachel deeply because it would, in fact, break her heart. She didn't know what that meant, either, except something she ought to guard against as best she could.
She told Giada little of what transpired between them, outlining how she thought Gabriel was unwilling to put her before his mother, allowing his mother a place of importance in their marriage, but did into her fears and insecurities, as those were things even she could not puzzle out yet. But after so many days of going in endless circles and making herself miserable because of it, no satisfactory decisions could be made. When Giada received news of Sam's disappearance, and they heard the devastation of the Death Eaters' attack on Diagon Alley, Rachel could barely summon up a token frown before arranging for an immediate portkey. Home was where they needed to be.
Ensuring that Giada and her family were handling matters themselves, Rachel made her way home late that night, with a certain amount of wariness. She did not know what lay in wait for her in their modestly extravagant abode. She would not apologize for or further explain her leaving. She would stress that this argument was neither resolved nor forgiven. She would make him see that they had a lot to think about in their marriage, and perhaps compromises would have to be made. She would not talk about love or what it meant for the pair of them.
Rachel was taken aback, however, to find Gabriel neither in the study, library, or bedroom upon her arrival, but sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the living room, the firelight burning very low. She'd banked on several hours time to steel herself before talking to him, but now she had simply a matter of seconds as he saw her, trying to squash the overwhelming wave of speeches fighting to make themselves heard in her head. She turned away from his presence slightly, focusing on her bags.
"I didn't come back for you," she told him stiffly, unsure of whether or not she was lying, but avoiding his gaze nevertheless as she fiddled with a strap. "I came back for Giada, and for Michael…"
