Page 104 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

When he released me, all too quickly, he took a step back and I hated that he’d put distance between us.

I hated that he couldn’t even wait until morning, that he had to leave tonight, without giving me any time to prepare.

I could have stayed up all night and watched him sleeping. One last time.

I could have served him coffee in bed.

If I had more time, I could have come up with a million reasons for him to stay. Or a million reasons for taking me with him.

I would go anywhere with him. To the ends of the earth, if he asked me to.

But he hadn’t given me any of those options. He’d just packed his bag, fully prepared to leave me behind, like I meant nothing to him.

“What are your dreams, Cleo?”

“My dreams?” I asked like I hadn’t understood the question.

“You keep telling me that I used to be a musician. You told me it was my dream. It was all I ever wanted. Well, I don’t remember any of that.” He swept his hand toward the guitars propped against the wall. “I don’t know how to play a guitar. I have no attachment to it. And yet you’re telling me that music will save me.” He jerked his chin at me. “So what’s going to save you?”

“I don’t need to be saved. I’m just fine.”

Gabriel nodded slowly. “Fine, huh? I might have lost my memories. I might not have any idea who the hell I am or who anyone else is, but my eyes are working just fine. And what I see is someone who gave up.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snapped.

“I heard you were an artist. Where’s your art?” He made a big show of looking around the apartment. “I don’t see any art. I haven’t seen you paint or draw or design anything since the day I came home from the hospital.”

The audacity of this man. I glared at him. “I was looking after you. I needed to take care of you?—”

“Well, now you don’t have to do that anymore.”

He made it sound like he was doing me a big favor.

And long before I was ready, he strode right out the door without looking back.

When he was gone and the door closed behind him, I slid down against the wall and listened to his boots pounding the stairs like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

I sat there for hours, huddled in the corner, vigilant, my ears pricking up every time I heard a door opening or shutting or the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

My foolish heart kept expecting him to return, to say this was all a mistake, that we could start over from square one. That he couldneverleave me.

But Gabriel never returned.

Once again, I’d been abandoned by a man whose music would play on long after he’d been gone.

It was so beautiful to have been loved by Gabriel but so gut-wrenching that it was in the past tense.

He loved me.Not: He loves me. He will always love me.

“Fuck you, Gabriel,” I whispered into the empty apartment. “Fuck. You.”

PART TWO: CLEO & GABRIEL

“You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” –Rumi

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Gabriel