Page 135 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

“Cleo,” he said softly, an apology in his tone like he knew what I was thinking.

I schooled my expression before turning to face him with a smile that threatened to slip.

He filled up the doorway. Made the room suddenly feel too small. His shoulders had gotten broader, his muscles more sculpted in our years apart. Jaw squarer. Cheekbones sharper. A few new lines around his eyes. But those eyes, a deep rich chocolate brown, and those full lips that softened his features, remained unchanged.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he said softly.

“Me too.” Although I wasn’t entirely sure that was true. I pointed to the vase. A distraction from the intensity of his gaze. “Did you pick those flowers yourself?”

He smiled. “I did. From my wild garden. Come on. I’ll show you,” he said, eager to go now. “I get all this wildlife,” he said as we jogged down the stairs. “You’re going to love it.”

“I’m a city girl. What kind of wildlife are we talking about?” I asked when he picked up the rest of my things from the living room and then insisted on carrying everything, despite my protests.

“Birds. Butterflies. Native bees. It’s so fucking cool.” He sounded like a little kid on Christmas Eve, so I was determined to appreciate this natural wonder, too.

We made our way through the kitchen with cream Smeg appliances and an orange laminate counter and through doors that looked like shoji screens that opened onto the deck. Downa few steps, a stone patio led to a kidney-shaped swimming pool with rock features.

Beyond allthatwas his wild garden.

“This is incredible,” I said sincerely, trailing my hand over the tall grasses as we followed a sandy path through the garden. I wouldn’t be surprised to see fairies flitting among the flora and fauna.

Along the way, Gabriel pointed out blue irises and grey goldenrod and white heath asters, identifying them all by name as if he’d suddenly become a renowned botanist in his spare time.

“What are those for?” I asked, pointing at the jewel-toned glass spheres hanging from the branches of a tree, which he identified as a variety of magnolia known as “Sweet Thing.”

Which of course sent me reeling back in time to when we’d listened to Van Morrison’sAstral Weekswhen he still belonged to Annika, and I was already enamored with him.

“I fill them with sugar water for the hummingbirds. They’re the coolest birds. Like little helicopters. They can fly in all directions, even upside down and backward.”

Right now, I felt like a hummingbird, flying backward, forward, and upside down at a dizzying speed.

“And here’s your art studio,” he said, flinging open the door of a timber-framed studio at the bottom of the garden. Ceiling fans hung from the vaulted ceiling and creamy light flooded the room from tall windows.

On closer inspection, this wasn’t an art studio at all. It was his rehearsal space. His guitars hung on the wall and there was a drum set in the far corner. “I don’t want to take your space. I can work in the house or?—”

“This space is all for you. Iwantyou to have it. And don’t worry. I won’t bother you when you’re working.”

My gaze landed on an easel. Not just any easel. A studio easel. I ran my hand over the solid wood. “You bought me an easel?”

He shrugged like it was no big deal that he’d dropped a few grand on an easel.

“I wanted you to have everything you needed.” He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. A stool and a drafting table. His old stereo and speakers with a selection of CDs. There was even a mini fridge. He’d thought of everything. “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

“This is more than enough. I’m only here for a few weeks,” I reminded him.

He scowled like he didn’t appreciate the reminder. “Come on. Let’s walk to the beach.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

Cleo

We followeda dirt path through tall grasses with Otis nipping at our heels and the evening sun on our faces. The air was scented with salt water and kelp and my skin felt sticky.

With every breath I took, I could feel my shoulders relaxing and the tension draining from my body.

Everything was going to be fine, I assured myself. One way or the other, everything would work out exactly the way it was meant to.

Sometimes you just had to trust the universe.