Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
AVERY
I gave Gabriel the manuscript because I’d been unable to say everything I wanted to say. Isn’t me giving him the contents of my head and my heart even better than speaking aloud? It’s been a few days since I said he and I shouldn’t see one another again, and even though I meant it, a part of me is dying to know what he thinks of the story.
Of my version of our story.
In lieu of Gabriel’s opinion, I’ll have to settle for Jill’s. She emailed earlier today with a subject line that read “Let’s have a check in!” The body of the email was empty. I wrote her back and told her I’d call her in an hour. She sent me a link for a video call.
Knowing I’m going to see her forced me to take a shower and do my hair and makeup. I’ve been a mess the past few days, existing on crackers and cheese and coffee. It’s only partially what Camryn envisioned for me. When she romanticized me writing in a cabin, I don’t think she saw me as sad and slightly depressed. Pining for a life and a person I thought I’d moved on from. I’m sure these feelings are normal, but that doesn’t mean I have to like them.
While I wait for my call with Jill to start, I tidy up my little cabin. Sweep away dirt tracked in by Ruby, dry my breakfast dishes. Today I’m planning to tell Jill what this book is based on. Especially now that Gabriel’s in the picture again.
Kind of in the picture, anyway. Kind of, but not really. Not really, but also, he’s right there .
But wasn’t he always? If I zoom out, he’s there. He’s the ghost Hudson couldn’t handle. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t let myself love someone who loved a ghost. I can’t fault Hudson for asking for better.
When it’s time, I log into the video call. Jill is there, waiting, her severe bob ready to cut glass. It matches her serious expression.
I wave. “Hello.”
“Avery,” Jill says. At least her tone is warm. “Where are you?” Her gaze leaves my face, looking at the room behind me. “Were you there a few days ago when we spoke?”
“Yes.” I peer over my shoulder and back to her. “A little writer's retreat. A cabin,” I amend, when her eyebrows draw together.
“Love it,” she says. “Very woodsy and cute. Are you inspired?”
“Yeah.” My attention flickers outside in the direction of Gabriel’s cabin.
“Tell me more,” Jill demands, catching on to my tone. “Is there a hot lumberjack nearby? Now that would add to your book.” She laughs at her joke.
“Well…” I bite my bottom lip. “Not a lumberjack.”
“But there’s someone?”
“Yes?” I’m not sure why it comes out like a question.
“Who?”
“My ex-husband.”
Jill is silent. I don’t know if this is good or bad. I get the feeling if a person shocks Jill into silence, it might not be a good thing.
“Jill, listen, I need to tell you about?—”
She holds up a hand. “Is your book based on real life?”
No sense in beating around the bush. “Gabriel—my ex—gave me permission to write our story.”
Jill exhales loudly. “So the DUI? And the alcoholism?”
I nod once to confirm what she’s asking.
She grimaces. “The divorce?”
“True.”
“Avery.” Compassion softens her voice. “You poor thing.”
I push down my immediate distaste at the words. Poor little thing . It’s all I heard after my mom died. All I heard after people started seeing how much I was taking care of Camryn. After people learned about Gabriel. Poor thing. How sad .
“It’s over now.” My voice betrays a confidence I don’t feel.
“Are you sure about that?”
“We’re divorced,” I say, as if that’s an explanation.
“And?”
“That’s usually a pretty solid ending.”
A smile curves Jill’s mouth upward. “Avery, I’ve read your book. If what you wrote is even half as much of what you two felt for each other, it is most definitely not over. Where’s the closure?”
“I don’t think everybody gets closure. Sometimes things end, and that’s all there is to it.”
She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. “You talk a brave game, Avery Burke, but you’re lying through your teeth.”
I blink at her blunt words. “He’s given me a million reasons not to trust him with my heart. Maybe my character can take him back. But I’m afraid fact and fiction will have to diverge in this case.”
Never mind that the moment I saw him again, my heart felt like it could fly. Or that when he chased that dog in here, every cell in my body stood at attention.
She nods solemnly. “My father was a raging alcoholic. I grew up watching my mom manage his alcoholism. Lying to people to cover up for him. Lying to herself, too. I guess what I’m saying is that I understand.”
“And yet you think he’s worthy of a second chance?” I’m surprised. Jill is no nonsense. I can’t imagine her giving a man a second chance, if she were in my position.
“Is your book reflective of the real Gabriel?”
My heart skips a beat. “Yes.”
“Then, yes. People make mistakes, even the good ones. Are you using any of this in the book?”
“I’ve written four new chapters.”
“Do they include your character running into Gabriel?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“It wouldn’t be a bad direction to take the story.”
“I thought you wanted me to ride off into the sunset on my own white horse?”
She shrugs. “Still not a bad way to go. Just not the only way.”
“Gotcha.”
She peers into the screen, shrewd eyes taking me in. “Are you doing ok?”
I recently saw a ghost, so, no, I’m not doing well. No matter how much I force Gabriel from my thoughts, he doesn’t go far. It doesn’t help that I want to see him, despite the way my brain warns my heart. I don’t tell Jill that each night since I arrived, I sit outside and listen, hoping to hear Gabriel’s music. “I’m struggling,” I admit.
“I thought so.” Jill sits back. “You should go have a little fun. Where are you?”
“Sugar Creek.”
She turns to her second computer and begins typing, muttering the words Sugar Creek as she taps the keys. Less than a minute later she announces, “There’s a county fair there right now. Looks like a pretty big deal. Very small town and whimsical. You should go. Step away from the story for an afternoon.”
“That does sound like a good idea.” I’ve been writing, rereading, and agonizing over my word choices since Gabriel and that crazy dog came barging in here a few days ago.
Gabriel has a lot to do with how long it’s taking me to write. Lengthy sessions of staring at the laptop screen aren’t helping either. The words meld together, and soon it’s Gabriel’s face I see.
He’s still handsome, but weathered now. His eyes were always deep and wise, but now I see he knows things. Things he’d rather not know, I’m sure.
To Jill, I say, “I think I’ll check out that fair. I did my hair and makeup today, might as well put it to good use.”
“Go on,” she urges. “My New Yorker heart is very jealous of the small-town whimsical fun you’re about to have.”
We sign off, and I look up the fair. Jill is right. It’s whimsical, and I’ll regret not going.
I change out of my yoga pants and loose-fitting top and into a casual dress.
I heat my curling iron and put some casual curls into my freshly washed and dried hair.
I slip my feet into some casual shoes.
So casual.
If I happen to run into Gabriel while I’m there, then, you know, what’s a girl to do? I’d been caught off-guard the last two times I saw him. If it happens today, I’ll be ready.
“Wish I could bring you,” I tell Ruby, scratching behind her ears on my way out.
A flicker of excitement sparks to life in my belly.
Gabriel might not even be there.
But also…he might.
I said we should stay away from each other, but what if we find ourselves in the same place at the same time? Loophole, right?
I probably shouldn’t be going. I mean really, what am I even doing? Why am I doing it? I know better. Our marriage is over, and it has been for a while. There’s really no good reason to see him again. I realize what a bad idea this might be.
The realization doesn’t stop me. All I want is to exist in a world where Gabriel never hurt me, where our slates have been wiped clean, and we are together again without all the pain of the past.
I know that’s impossible, and yet, here I go, out the door.