the elegant rachel m. corner (malengled) wrote in valesco,
@ 2010-06-09 14:14:00

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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…"

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coverstory
2010-06-10 01:20 pm UTC (link)

His gaze lifted from the book in his hands and stared with some amusement toward his disappearing wife. Gabriel had heard her come in and if he hadn't had the few seconds to compose himself, would have looked ready to splinch himself. Rachel leaving had sent him into a silent tizzy, and her return nearly reactivated the feelings, but then the thought that she came back managed to relax him enough to settle into the chair and pick up the book he had been trying to read for the past two hours.

He hadn't slept much these past ten days. Gabriel had gone to work and straight home to Michael, hoping that he'd find Rachel or at least some sign of her, but nothing. He had never been so confused in his life; he had no idea why she really left or if it was entirely his fault or not. Of course he'd been upset with her and what he deemed to be an overreaction about his mother's inquiries, but they had seemed to be fine with just snapping at each other about it until he'd exclaimed that he loved her. It wasn't even a proclamation of love, it was a statement which she tried to get him to deny immediately after. Gabriel hadn't, as he had never felt the need to say those words about any other woman before, and wouldn't refute it because of Rachel's unwillingness to accept it.

He didn't know what he was more upset about, or if he was upset at all. Gabriel felt tired, and he supposed that it was sadness that was making him feel this way. His wife had disappeared after he told her he loved her (which sounded so backwards, but their entire relationship had been put together so strangely that it was almost appropriate), and the rest of their marriage would be forced to live with the consequences of whatever happened tonight. Either Rachel and himself forgave each other for the fight a few days ago, or she left because she did not want to be in a relationship like this anymore or---he had a million things playing out in his head and could not figure out which resolution would hurt him less.

He loved her, he loved her, and he didn't want her to hate him for it. How he wished they'd met under different circumstances so he wouldn't feel like a stranger in his own marriage. Gabriel was so glad that that Rachel started the conversation as she did, because pushing away the inevitable would leave him some more time to think that they weren't over.

"It would have been quite a shame if he had missed out on one of your fantastic parties," Gabriel said quietly, looking back down at the pages of the book. She'd come back, and it was now his turn to do something about it and he could barely muster the courage to look at her, "How was Ibiza?" His bank accounts had managed to keep him somewhat sane about his wife's whereabouts.

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malengled
2010-06-10 04:05 pm UTC (link)

Her eyes widened slightly, so intently she'd been expecting a battle on her hands, one way or another. She'd expected the cold shoulder. She'd expected a vicious continuation of their previous argument, ten days prior. She'd expected a cruel, somewhat-deserved lecture about what a selfish child he'd married. She'd even expected it to be in the realm of possibility that he had rejected her stance on motherhood and overruled her lack of desire for another child. What she'd not expected was this calm man, seating in his chair, reading his book, a man who was not above making a very gentle, very casual joking casual remark, which stunned, relieved, and irked her. But she was grateful for his averted eyes, so that she could compose herself before continuing.

"It was," she paused, unsure of what to say. He couldn't know the truth. She'd have to lie, but then say what? Would he think her insensitive if she said it was magnificent? Would he know what she meant, when she said it was unfulfilling? "It—left something to be desired, with the weather." But Rachel had the grace to color pink, albeit very softly, to imagine what he thought of her trip when he saw the spending activity. Perhaps she needn't say anything else at all. "I'm sure you can your draw your own conclusions, however."

All her other emotions took a backseat to the confusion that was rearing its head. Didn't he want to shout at her? Didn't he want to tell her she was selfish, childish, and vapid? Would he not want to berate her for her apparent thoughtlessness in leaving the children? In abandoning her duties as lady of the manor? Like a masochist needling a sore, so she had to disturb something that was better left alone. "How did you fare, in my absence?"

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coverstory
2010-06-11 01:46 am UTC (link)

Gabriel ran a hand over his mouth as he thought about his response, because he clearly could not tell her that he had been a sleepless wreck for the past ten days, unsure about any aspect of his life outside of his job and son. He had been dropping Michael off at his mother's five minutes earlier every day for the past week and a half because of his inability to stay in the house. Gabriel couldn't tell Rachel that he'd been completely lost without her, without the knowledge that their relationship wasn't going to end up in shambles like so many of the arranged marriages he'd seen throughout his life.

Michael's birthday was on Sunday, he could say that he had spent most of the time trying to prepare for it, or at least getting the word out. There was no doubt that Rachel would not miss the chance to through an event such as a first birthday party, but Gabriel couldn't think of anything else to say. Busy at work? The attack at Diagon had kept him in the offices for quite some time, and there were still ramifications coming in from each day. People were still missing, bodies still needed to be claimed, and yet here Gabriel was, unable to find anything important enough to use as a lie to his wife to keep their interaction as civil as possible.

He blinked, his hand continuing to rest on his chin, fingers nearly gripping at his cheek. Gabriel finally looked up at Rachel, "Terribly," he admitted, because he should not be lying to his wife, "It's been a terrible time without you."

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malengled
2010-06-11 02:43 am UTC (link)

To her most abject horror, tears stung hotly at the back of her eyes, and Rachel was mystified as to why that should be. Could it have something to do with the fact that, if he was being truthful, Gabriel was willing to admit he was not perfect, and yes, for whatever reason, Rachel abandoning him disturbed him? While she had immediately stubbed out the faint hope that she'd want to reconcile with him with the first words out of her mouth? Rachel ducked her head, turning her back to him completely in case she didn't have even the smallest bit of composure over herself. Coming home with her head held high and then dissolving into sobs was not on par with the composed, self-possessed young lady that Rachel prided herself on being—had always been, up until this appalling frank and infuriating man had sought fit to enter her life.

"The manor appears to be standing," she said, striving for light, settling for blasé, actually sounding the tiniest bit tearful. "Surely it couldn't be bad as all that."

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coverstory
2010-06-11 03:03 pm UTC (link)

Admitting the truth about his week had helped Gabriel lose any composure he may have had, but seeing Rachel falter, hearing her voice crack just the slightest completely obliterated the calm he'd managed to keep. The book slipped to the ground as Gabriel stood and he hated how nervous he felt because how was he supposed to fix this when he was wringing his hands like a child who had broken his mother's vase? Gabriel feared that it was because his relationship with Rachel at his very moment was more delicate than a vase, and as he approached her (because his feet seemed to be the only part of him that knew what to do) he felt more and more panicked.

"Rachel," Gabriel's hands went out, not sure if he could touch her, "I--I should have stood my ground with my mother, I should...I should have picked voicing our decision over protecting her feelings, I---" Even with his devotion to Michael, Gabriel had still felt so guilty about upsetting his mother, his father, his sister. He knew he had made the right choice to be with Mary and Michael, but it had never felt one hundred percent right. He had been such a coward, and he wasn't feeling like that now.

Gabriel dropped his hands, "We're first, from now on, Rachel, if you want still want us to be---you, Michael, Amissa--I promise to put all of you first." It was all he could think to say, to make this promise to her in hopes that she could have faith in their marriage like he did.

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malengled
2010-06-11 03:41 pm UTC (link)

And that moment, Rachel saw, it wasn't that she expected shouting or a bigger fight on her hands. It was that she wanted it to be there. This was breaking the cycle—the cycle where she did something wrong, something selfish, something somebody else didn't like, and they didn't hesitate to let her know what a worthless and terrible person she was. Everyone, from grandparents to parents, Bertram, and even Giada, to a lesser degree. A self-perpetuating circle that had heretofore never been disturbed her entire life, and Rachel was beginning to see that she didn't know how to function without that driving force. She blanched away from the unknown, utterly confused and miserable, and unknowing as to how or why she'd gotten there.

"How can you stand it?" she whispered in wonder, notes of self-loathing creeping into her voice that only just missed shaking, the sound of unshed tears weighing heavy in her tone. Rachel wrapped her arms tighter around herself, wishing for a split-second there was much more distance between them, because even if she couldn't see him, she could feel him behind her. "How can you stand to do it? How—how can you be so nice to me after I just—left you?"

But although the words were coming out, and although they made sense, it wasn't at all what she meant to say. There were words, other words, she wanted to voice, but simply wasn't brave enough to. What she really meant was how can you love somebody as a wrong as I am?. It was the question to an answer she was not sure she ever really wanted to know.

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coverstory
2010-06-11 04:55 pm UTC (link)

Why was she questioning---Gabriel stared at the carpet for a few moments, trying to understand. He had accepted that the topic of their argument had been serious, he had known that basically throwing a new element of their relationship into Rachel's face had been overwhelming, so it hadn't been hard to believe that she would want to get away from him, from the entire situation. Hell, he too has skipped the country when faced with a life-changing piece of information. He recalled those frantic nights with Octavia after finding out about Mary's pregnancy, and wondered if this was just what people in their circle of friends did.

No, it wasn't. It seemed to just be the two of them who could not handle actually facing truths and feelings. Gabriel had been more than complacent with going on every day as if they hadn't been placed together in an arrangement by their parents, he had been fine with just being right for Rachel and not going any further than that. Gabriel found that now that he had lived with the chance of her not wanting to go day to day with him that he greatly desired the chance to prove to her that he was worth being with.

That---she was worth more than what he had given her these first six months of their marriage. He'd been wary of displaying more than casual affection outside of the bedroom because he didn't know how Rachel would accept deterring from the course they'd created for themselves, but Gabriel wanted to give her more. It was the fear that she wouldn't want it that kept him from doing so.

Gabriel stepped closer to Rachel and put his hands on her shoulders, pressing his face to her hair. She still smelled like the beach, but retained the delicate scent of hers that he had grown to recognize and savor. He whispered, "Because I should have stopped you, I should have made things right and made it so you would stay with me."

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malengled
2010-06-12 07:52 am UTC (link)

The touch of his hands on her shoulder, the ghostly pressure of his face to the back of her head, shocked her into the reality of the conversation they were having—the reality of a conversation that appeared to be altering the entire course of their six-month marriage. The thought gave her panicked butterflies, and Rachel needed air, needed something to clear her head, so she could think. This man, he was much too close to her, and getting closer…and not merely in the physical sense. But she couldn't bear to let him. He didn't mean what he was saying; he couldn't. The words made sense, but the idea didn't. Love was fleeting, it was selfish, it broke everything down trying to get in, and it devastated everything else when it left. It had nearly happened to her once before, but when it had evaded her, when it had left her, she swore never again She did not want to love. But she wanted to be loved so very, very badly.

"You can't love me," Rachel told him quietly, after a moment or two. How could she avoid addressing it when she finally realized that underlying all the other unattended-to problems that plagued their marriage, this was the one she'd been unknowing obsessing over, the one that ceased her functioning like the sensible, untouchable witch she was. Her voice was clear, soft, composed, but the hot prickles behind her eyes gave way to a lone tear she tried in vain to blink away. "Prove it. Prove that you do, because I don't believe it."

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coverstory
2010-06-12 04:45 pm UTC (link)

Prove it. Gabriel shut his eyes and took a quick breath. She wanted him to prove that he loved her. How was it possible to explain all that he felt for her? Gabriel wasn't a poet or a man of many words. He just knew; he had never experienced this kind of feeling for another person, and that was how love was supposed to be. He wanted to create the happiness in Rachel's life, he knew that he would only have happiness if she was there with him.

Did she want a list? He loved how she stood up for herself and her beliefs, he loved her honesty because no one in his life had ever been completely honest with him. Gabriel loved that she was the most brutally honest with the people she cared most for, because lying to them would be disrespectful. He loved that she was trying to make up for missing the first few years of her daughter's life, that she was taking responsibility for not only Amissa but for Michael as well. He just---he loved her, there was nothing else to it.

Gabriel let out the breath he was holding and turned Rachel to face him, not giving her the chance to speak before he kissed her, his hands going into her hair and pulling her toward him from around the waist. He loved her, he loved her, and he would never feel like this again, for anyone,

"I love you, Rachel," he said, pressing his forehead to hers so she would be forced to look at her, to allow her eyes to focus on him and only him, "I'll prove it every day for the rest of our lives if you allow me to." Gabriel had never felt so sincere, yet so anxious in his life. He needed her to allow him to love her.

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malengled
2010-06-12 08:40 pm UTC (link)

One minute was not going to fix twenty-one years of reinforcement that she didn't deserve happiness, that she was incapable of being loved, but somehow, being in his arms, seeing the earnest expression's searing gaze, it didn't seem like it was such an impossibility. The hands resting on his shoulders slid to around his neck and she raised herself up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his. He was going to be good to her, he was going to be good to Amissa, he really was going to love them, even when she could be as wild, unpredictable, unloving as she might be—in his arms, that's what she knew. But she was afraid what would happen when she stepped out of them, and so clung to him with a kind of desperation she had not let herself feel since she'd walked out of those doors ten days prior.

"Please don't break my heart," she murmured to herself, even when it should have been words he spoke to her.

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