The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 437

Chapter 437
Gemma's POV

The bell on the pet shop door jingles with a cheer as I step back out onto the sidewalk, a bag of dog treats and toys hanging from my wrist. 

My eyes scan the street, finding them immediately. Antonios and the other man are paused in front of a convenience store a few doors down, not holding hands anymore. 

I approach him, stopping just a few feet away, “Mr. Voss! What a coincidence.”

Antonios turns. 

His face, which had been relaxed, freezes. 

Surprise flashes, then panic takes over. His eyes dart past me, into the store, where his companion is still visible at the register. 

He looks like someone has caught him red handed. 

Just then, the tall man, with striking, mixed-ethnic features emerges carrying two bottles of water. He stops short, his gaze flicking from Antonios’s tense face to mine, wary and questioning.

“Antonios, who is this?” 

He asks. His English is clear, but lightly accented. I summon a polite, neutral smile and extend my hand. 

“Hi, I’m Gemma. A friend of Mr. Voss’s.”

The man hands one bottle to Antonios, then shakes my hand. His grip is firm, his eyes searching mine. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mitchel.” 

He looks back at Antonios, his expression bright and expectant, waiting for a cue to introduce the relationship between them. 

Seeing it, the puzzle pieces in my mind fall together automatically. I remember Cassian’s offhand comment, that Antonios’s parents are desperate for him to settle down, but man shows zero interest. 

It’s like romance doesn’t exist for him, be said. But the truth isn’t a lack of interest. It’s a different kind of romance entirely.

Antonios awkwardly pulls his hand back from Mitchel’s proximity. I see the flicker of hurt, quickly masked, in Mitchel’s eyes.

“Mr. Voss,” I say, keeping my tone gentle. “Could we talk for a moment?”

He nods mutely, and we step a few paces away, leaning against the sun-warmed brick wall of the building. From here, I can see Mitchel, his watching us with anxious concern. 

He loves him, it's obvious.

I keep my voice low. “You two are in a relationship, aren’t you?”

Antonios goes rigid. The panic returns, sharp and defensive. “Are you going to tell anyone?”  

He whispers. I shake my head, meeting his eyes directly. “I won’t tell anyone. Who you love is your choice. It doesn’t change how I see you. You’re just choosing to be with someone you love.”

He stares at me, disbelief conflicting with a desperate seed of hope. “You don’t think… something negative about us?”

The question breaks my heart, and to see that he is almost expecting the cold shoulder from me.

“Do you think your love for Mitchel has any negative or ugly sides to it?” I ask instead.

“Of course not,” he says, the answer immediate and fierce. “We love each other. We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

I smile, a real one this time. “Then that’s all that matters. Your love is genuine. Why would I find that negative?”

The tension visibly drains from his shoulders. He looks back at Mitchel, and for the first time, I don't see the fear or pressure in his expressions, just satisfaction. 

When we walk back, Antonios doesn’t hesitate. 

He reaches out and takes Mitchel’s hand, lacing their fingers together. The simple act makes Mitchel’s face light up with relief and joy.

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