Page 40 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

Last night I barely slept. Our argument played on a loop in my head, but no matter how many times I replayed it, I couldn’t hit rewind and change the outcome.

I hurt Annika with my lie of omission, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I’d be angry too.

“You belonged to her first,” I pointed out.

“Nobodybelongsto anyone,” he scoffed. “I’m not her sole property. You can’townanyone.”

While I understood his logic, it was painfully obvious that he didn’t know how female friendships worked. Maybe guys would just duke it out and bury the hatchet over a few beers, but girls don’t operate like that.

When you betray a friend (over a guy, no less), it creates an emotional rift that’s nearly impossible to bridge.

Sure, Annika and I had history on our side, but would that be enough? I really didn’t know.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” he asked when the waiter delivered his cheeseburger and fries.

I shook my head and took a sip of coffee. It tasted like bitter sludge. The pot had probably been sitting on the burner since this morning. “I need to hear what happened with Annika.”

“She wanted to know why I strung her along for four months,” he said, smacking the side of the Heinz bottle and pouring ketchup on his plate. “Why didn’t I end things as soon as I realized who you were?”

“Valid point. Why didn’t you?”

He thought about it for a moment. “At first, you were just…I didn’tknowyou, Cleo. I knew the girl I’d conjured up in my head, but I didn’t knowyou.And I liked Annika. For want of a better word, being with her was easy. There were no preconceived notions. No castles in the sky. But you…”

He stuffed some fries into his mouth and chewed, his gaze drifting to the window while I stared at his profile and got temporarily distracted.

He had the most sensuous mouth. Sooty lashes. Expressive face.

Gabriel was an old soul. He wore his emotions like a battle-weary soldier who had fought in the trenches and witnessed the best and worst of humanity but still clung to the hope that the world was a beautiful place.

I yearned to trace the curves and contours of his face with my fingertips. Sketch him. Capture his soul and spirit on a canvas.

“It felt like I saw you in a dream and then you materialized before my eyes, and I wasn’t sure what to do about that,” he said. “You’re nothing like what I expected and yet you’re everything and more. We don’t really know each other but I feel like I’ve known you forever.” He held out his hands. “Make of that what you will, Jane.”

What I wanted to tell him is that there was a very good chance I’d fall short of being the dream girl he conjured up, but all I said was, “My name’s not Jane.”

“I know who you are,” he said. “You’re Cleo Babington. The artist. The muse. The girl who acts tough but spends her last dollar on a cup of coffee for a homeless man who she treats like a friend. The girl with a rebellious heart and a quick wit who chooses men that could never possibly appreciate the wonders of her mind. You’re the girl who made a shirt for me.”

The homeless man was Chuck, the one who found Gabriel’s notebook. The day we went to Yaffa Cafe, Chuck was on the corner ranting about gentrification and how the East Village was going to the dogs. I bought him a cup of coffee and hung out with him for a while, but Annika and Gabriel had gone ahead so I hadn’t even realized he saw that.

“I shouldn’t have made you that stupid shirt,” I muttered.

He laughed, amused, and finished his burger in three bites then sat back in his seat. “So now what? Where do we go from here?”

“Home. Separately. But not until you tell me the rest of your conversation with Annika.”

He told me that Annika was upset, understandably, and that she couldn’t understand why I’d kept it from her. “She also mentioned that you found my notebook and that you’ve had it foryears. Care to explain?”

I squirmed in my seat, but I shouldn’t have been surprised that Annika told him about it. That notebook was the reason for my entire deception.

After I told him the story, leaving out the part where I sniffed his shirt, obviously (no need to sound like a total weirdo), Gabriel stared at me with a dazed expression and then he started laughing.

I couldn’t see what was so funny about any of this.

“How many more signs do you need?” he said. “Even the universe thinks we belong together. We can’t just walk away from this without seeing where it takes us.”

Just go for it,the devil on my shoulder goaded.You know you want him.

But the pesky angel on my other shoulder butted in.Cease and desist. Guys come and go but friends are forever.