Chapter Text
Gabrielle Solis knew she was a bad person, selfish even. But it came with its uses; for example, when her husband Carlos Solis lied to her and took her off her birth control, she knew she could get revenge guilt-free.
But she didn't realize that plan would get him charged with a hate crime. In his defense, he didn't know they were both gay when he attacked.
So here she was, sitting in the courtroom with her husband, Carlos, being charged with illegal business practices and hate crimes. She felt a sort of obligation to defend him.
But as soon as Gabrielle saw John Rowland walking into the courtroom, she knew two things:
1. Her marriage was over.
2. And John was so fucked.
And she was so right. She watched as John leaned down and whispered something into her husband's ear and watched his face contort into something she had never seen before, something absolutely terrifying.
“You are so dead.” Carlos turned around, “You are so dead!” he repeated as he jumped from his seat and ran towards John, as the room erupted into chaos.
Gaby yelled, “No! Carlos!” But it was no use; Gaby was unheard over the chaos. She tried again,
“Stop it!” But alas, nothing.
The fury only stopped when the judge called order, and from across the room, she made eye contact with John again, who shook his head and smiled.
And for a fleeting moment, she felt free, then the dread hit her heart.
As Gabrielle returned home, the luxurious house felt cold and empty, as did her heart.
She pulled off her shoes at the foyer, placed her bag down, and let out a heavy sigh.
She thought about everything that had brought her to this moment. She cheated with John because she felt so alone, and now that everything had come to light, she would have rather been alone with Carlos than whatever this was.
She made her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. She changed into her pajamas, unsure of how to feel—numb, in a sense.
She climbed into the bed she once shared, staring at Carlos' side of the bed as she drifted into sleep.
When Gabrielle woke up, she instantly felt sick.
“Oh great”, she thought.
As her stomach churned, she sat up with a fright and immediately rushed to the bathroom.
After emptying the contents of her stomach, feeling queasy, she made her way to the shower.
She thought about taking a bath, but it made her feel even more sick to remember bathing with Carlos together in that tub.
She washed her hair with her ridiculously expensive shampoo and conditioner.
She lathered her body with soap imported from Paris.
As she watched the suds go down the drain, she thought to herself that this might be the last bit of luxury she had from Carlos’s money.
She quickly pushed that out of her mind, stepped out of the shower, and was immediately startled by rose petals on the floor.
How had she not noticed somebody in her bathroom while she showered?
She followed them into her bedroom, where she found John drinking something on her bed, in nothing but boxers.
Seriously?
She quickly walked toward the bed. “John! How did you get in here?” she said in frustration.
And, of course, all he did was smile and say, “I know where you keep the key.”
So she definitely was going to need to change that soon.
He got up and brought her a drink identical to his. “Mimosa?”
She internally cursed him for this. But when she saw his sweet smile, she froze for a second.
Needing to keep the façade, she said, “No, I'm pregnant, you jackass.”
She pushed him onto the bed, trying to get him away from her. “I made yours with seltzer!”
She raised an eyebrow and wore a no-bullshit expression because he said it like it was so simple, like she could just be with him, drinking stupid mimosas.
As much as she loved him, she also loved Carlos. And now, thanks to him, that’s gone.
John sighed, “Listen, I know you're mad. But once you calm down, you'll see how perfect this is. We can finally be together.” He took her arms in his, and she tried to pull away slightly.
But some part of her didn’t want to.
“It's gonna be awesome,” John stated like her whole world didn’t just collapse.
Her eyes trailed over to the floor, where an overnight bag sat, and whatever nonsense she was falling for instantly went away, replaced by anger.
“You brought luggage?” she semi-yelled.
She walked over, swooped up his luggage, and ran downstairs with him chasing behind her, pleading to stay.
“Absolutely not, John! There is no us.”
In her mind, she begged him to see this as reality. She wanted him to stay so badly, but this felt like the only option. She threw his bag and pushed half-naked John outside with it.
“Come on, Gabrielle! You know you want this…” he trailed off as she slammed the door and ran back upstairs.
She truly did.