Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
AVERY
The way it was.
My lips on yours.
Your hand in mine.
I thought we were fine.
Fine isn’t what we were.
I broke us.
Choked the life from us.
The wolf arrived.
And I surrendered.
I’ll retrace my steps to show you.
If you’re not done, neither am I.
I toss aside the chalk pen, peering down at the poem I’ve just finished copying onto the chalkboard. Spill The Beans entries lie scattered on the table.
Since I came back from Sugar Creek, I’ve chosen sunny and uplifting entries. Today, I didn’t feel like it. The longer I go without Gabriel, the more I miss him. I’ve been home a little over three weeks, and this pain in the center of my chest grows bigger every day. It’s not like it was when he was in prison, when I desperately wanted him and couldn’t have him. This is more like yearning, because he’s out in the world, attainable. I fantasize about hopping in my car and pointing it north, about?—
“Is Avery Woodruff here?”
My heart turns over at the sound of that familiar voice, saying my old name.
“Uh,” Laramie flounders, glancing to where I sit, tucked in a quiet corner of Gem. She looks back at the man in front of her.
“There isn’t an Avery Woodruff here,” Laramie says, placing so much emphasis on my former last name that Gabriel catches on right away.
His head tips up slowly, lowering at the same pace. “Right. Avery Burke. Is she here?”
Laramie glances my way a second time, meeting my eyes. I nod my approval, but Gabriel doesn’t wait. He turns, following Laramie’s gaze.
Our eyes meet, and everything in the space between us ceases to exist. The bitter scent of coffee, the low hum of conversation, the scream of grinding beans, it’s all drowned out by my racing pulse.
If my hands weren’t curled into fists, my fingernails leaving dents in my skin, I might press down on my chest to keep my heart in my body.
He’s walking toward me, each step measured, and all I can think is that I don’t know how I will survive this. I’ve been proud of myself these past few weeks, knowing I tangoed with Gabriel and walked away upright. I’ve been waiting for that growing hole in my chest to peak, thinking if I could just make it to the apex, I’d be ok. It would fill in, I’d heal and scar, like before.
Seeing him now makes me doubt the end exists for us.
He stops beside the chair on the other side of my table. He’s wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. It’s nothing special, except somehow it is, because it’s on him.
“Hello.” His voice is low, husky, the tenor making me bite my lower lip.
“Hi,” I manage after a few heavy seconds.
He exhales a thick breath, eyes darkening. My skin prickles.
If closure is what Sugar Creek was supposed to gift us, it looks like we missed the mark.
Gabriel grips the back of the chair, looking down at the chalkboard. “Your work?” He sounds impressed.
“Yeah. In exchange for free coffee and baked goods.”
Gabriel skims the poem. “That’s a valuable trade.”
“I like to think so.” I point at the wall. “It goes up there.”
Gabriel pulls out the chair and sits. His long legs spread out under the table, one of them pushing between my legs. I resist the urge to capture him with my calves and squeeze.
“I’m delivering the arch for your sister.” He looks around. “I wasn’t expecting to arrive at a coffee shop.”
“This is Cam’s place. And Dani’s, too, but Cam operates it. Anyway, they’re getting married out back. That’s why you’re delivering the arch here.” I take a breath.
Gabriel smiles knowingly. “Why are you nervous?”
“Who said I’m nervous?”
“Nerves make you ramble.”
I frown and flick a crumb off the table. Gabriel is here, on my turf. It was different when I was in Sugar Creek. Having him here, in Gem, unsettles me. It feels like he was missing from this scene all along.
I choose not to respond to Gabriel’s question, forging ahead with the reason he’s here. “The outside area is gorgeous. You can’t see it from the street, but I promise, it’s worthy of a small wedding ceremony.”
Gabriel adjusts his sleeves, pushing them up on his forearms. I toy with the charm on my necklace.
“So,” I start, folding my hands together on the table.
“How have you been?” Gabriel says at the same time.
We laugh awkwardly. “Go ahead,” Gabriel says.
“I’ve been good. Writing a lot. Putting the finishing touches on Cam and Dani’s bridal shower. That’s one of the things I was supposed to be doing in Sugar Creek.” I give him a sideways grin, a slight heat building on my cheeks.
The corners of his lips tug, the tiny grin knowing and mischievous. “But something distracted you.”
“Something distracted me.”
His fingertips land on the crook of my elbow, sliding down the inside length of my forearm. My toes curl, my stomach tightens. He asks, “Are you almost finished with the book?”
“I’m three quarters of the way through.”
He clears his throat. “Are your hero and heroine going to get back together?”
A loaded question, if there ever was one.
“I’m not sure.” I avert my eyes, as if looking away from him will decrease the pain seeping into my chest.
My phone, lying on the table between us, lights up with an incoming call.
“Sorry,” I apologize, reaching for my phone. “My air-conditioner is misbehaving, and I'm waiting on a call back from the repairman.”
Gabriel takes back his hand from my forearm, gesturing at me to answer.
The call is from Bayer Heating and Cooling, telling me a technician will be at my address in approximately twenty minutes.
“I’ll be there,” I confirm, hanging up.
“I can probably fix whatever it is,” Gabriel offers. “If you'd like.”
I clear my throat. I've become accustomed to calling out for home repairs, but there was a time when Gabriel fixed whatever was broken in our home.
Except for himself.
Has that changed? He certainly seems capable of fixing everything, including himself.
“Next time,” I answer, scooping up my purse and jamming my laptop in its case. “I need to get going.” I step away from the table, but Gabriel’s arm shoots out, stopping me.
“Can I see you again?”
I look into his eyes and there it is, in vivid detail. Our shared history. Not just our marriage, but our time in Sugar Creek. That too, has been written into our story.
“Yes,” I answer. Feelings of overwhelm have me hustling out of Gem, pausing once I reach the exit because I've realized I haven't given him my address.
I guess it's on me. The ball is officially in my court.
Turning back, I peek at Gabriel. I would’ve bet a hundred dollars he was watching me leave, but he’s not. He’s attaching the chalkboard to the wall. He steps back and looks up at the words I’ve written. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s thinking. What he's feeling.
It's not until the repairman leaves that my heightened emotions begin to wane. Sagging against the front door, I drop my chin to my chest and rub at my eyes. Ruby bounds straight for me, pawing at my calves. I push off the door and take care of all her needs.
I don’t cry, but I feel like I could. I could throw my head in my hands right now and cry until I run out of tears.
Nothing about my life is how I thought it would go. How I wanted it to be.
Gabriel was my everything, until he wasn't. I was forced to move on, forced to learn who I was as an individual. That feels important, special. Something that can't be brushed aside, forgotten, wiped away like it never existed. There isn't a reset button, only a gathering of experiences.
It's not only my belongings, my home, my new car. I loved someone besides Gabriel . When I’m old and looking back on my life, I’ll consider Hudson a special part of it. He helped me heal, and he helped me learn about myself.
I take a shower, and after I’m done I open my nightstand drawer. What I want is in the back, hidden from view.
The cool metal slides over my skin, shiny and still a perfect fit. The diamond on my ring finger glints in the dull overhead light. I didn’t think there would ever come a time when I wouldn’t wear this ring.
I reach back into the drawer, feeling for the slide of my fingers over a smooth surface. There it is.
Two pieces of white printer paper, each bearing newspaper articles. Gabriel cut them out and used packing tape to give them a homemade laminate. I gaze at the images, these significant moments captured in time.
Gabriel, mid-step from a burning home, holding me in his arms.
Gabriel, standing in front of a minister, bending me backward while kissing me.
I did not save the articles about his DUI and sentencing, but I know they referenced the way we met. Cam told me how they chronicled our trajectory, and our spectacular crash and burn.
Gabriel was a memory, vivid and tangible, but a memory nonetheless. Not anymore.
I keep saying we’re finished, as if it’s synonymous with being done.
Our marriage is finished.
But are we done?