Chapter 38

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A/N: not edited and short because I'm not feeling well at the moment. I didn't sleep AT ALL so now that I've taken some Rx, I'm hoping after a nap I'll be able to type more.

Chapter 38 (Gabriel POV)

Everything had been planned to the fucking T, from the balloon ride, to dinner, my proposal and it all went perfectly, beyond my expectations. I wanted to tap myself on the fucking back, when she said yes, agreeing to be my wife. I love her, and when I realized that all the other pieces seemed inconsequential, I just wanted to do things right, proper unlike every other single event or thing in my life. Chelsea, our relationship, mate-ship and love would be the one right thing, the only good thing I’d ever done.

I had been planning, endlessly, trying to get the hotels up and running, while working with my ability. While I had only shown her the almost completed product in Los Angeles, I held back that I was putting the same development in two other locations, North California and Chicago. I was attempting to do what no one else had yet, and all the pieces were falling into place. I was as nervous asking her to marry me as I was showing her what I had dedicated myself to for the past three going on four years.

I don’t think I even realized what asking Chelsea meant in reality, the fact that I was asking her to share my burdens, discuss my thoughts, not having to be ashamed about anything and everything. She listened, not judging when I told her about Dante and the Gentlemen’s Club, didn’t bat an eye; something that would have angered me thoroughly had the positions been switched. She had no history, minus Leo that had to be dealt with and I appreciated that.

I’m not entire sure Chelsea had the big picture, but again that could be because I had never revealed different things, only doing the opposite of what I had always done prior.

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See without all the information, it may seem like a leap to others, not that I fucking cared about what anyone else but Chelsea thought at this point.

Chelsea had her quirks, but so did I.

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Maggie. It would be easy enough to put all the blame on her without accepting my part in the problem, and I did play a part. I was, still am a complex individual, and I’ve never apologized for any of the things I’ve done.

It was easy to see what had happened with Maggie and I and the parts that my father played, Alpha orders. I had been taking Chelsea on dates, spending time with her of my own free will and I compared the face and behaviors to the ones that Maggie exhibited. I didn’t realize that she truly loved me, or that indirectly my father had made it appear that I returned those feelings.

She believed that we were one another’s first everything, when that wasn’t true, but my father wanted her to believe so, so she did.

We shared a room, because my father wanted it to be so, but everything down to our shoes was separate, but she assumed it was my abnormal behavior.

Alpha wanted us to be together, but I had my own conditions. I wanted a lock on my closest and my own bathroom. We had two of almost everything but a bed. Two books shelves, one for my things the other for hers, because I didn’t want our things to be mixed. I didn’t even want our dirty clothes to be placed in the same hamper. But despite all that, no matter what, Maggie and I continued having sex, regardless of who else I was fucking.

But back to my main point though, why she put up with my general coldness. I didn’t do romance, I wasn’t bothered with it, just meaningless conquests. I didn’t have to buy flowers, plan dates, listen or be supportive to any of these other women. Like I told Chelsea I had never put forth that type of effort. Yet with Maggie, we did go on dates. The romantic gestures I make for Chelsea, her expressions and gratitude, which had become my secret prize, I’d be lying if I said Maggie never had them, that I had never witnessed the same reactions before. I had, but the difference was I actually cared if Chelsea was pleased.

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