Page 98 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

Eddie shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking but no, absolutely not. He was always faithful to you. Gabriel would have sooner cut off his own arm than cheat on you. He never looked at anyone but you.”

Now he barely looked at me at all. The surgery saved his life, but they had to remove 70 percent of his temporal lobe. His memories had been wiped clean. Severe retrograde amnesia that was most likely permanent.

I could still picture his face when he saw me after the surgery. Completely blank. No recognition whatsoever.

Gabriel had no idea who I was, and in the past five months, he’d expressed little to no interest in getting to know me.

“Let’s grab some coffee,” Eddie said when we stopped on the corner.

We were right across the street from Washington Square Park, not the direction I should have been headed in, but I hadn’t really been paying attention to my surroundings.

My life had been put on hold since February 4th. The day I married Gabriel and the day I lost him.

Today was one of those mid-summer days that you see in movies set in New York. The sky a crisp blue, the park so green, the colors so saturated that the city shimmered and dazzled.

I watched a woman walking three dogs on leashes, a shirtless guy in a bucket hat with a Gray’s Papaya cup clutched in one hand and his arm around a petite redhead, cyclists racing past. Joggers and kids chasing each other into the park, and a group of tourists in I Heart NYC T-shirts with cameras slung around their necks.

The city teemed with life. I felt like I’d missed it all.

When had that icy winter melted into spring and magically transformed into summer?

Even so, I hesitated, torn. “I should get home.”

“You’ve been running yourself ragged. Take some time to sit and relax and enjoy the sunshine. Come on. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Eddie put his hand on my elbow and steered me across the street and through the park.

“So bossy,” I teased, but it was a beautiful day so I was grateful that he’d insisted.

We sat at a sidewalk table under a green awning and ordered iced coffee and cannoli.

“Thanks, Eddie. This is nice.” I stirred sugar into my coffee and took a sip through the straw. “You’re a good friend.”

“Wish I could do more,” he said gruffly. “How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know.” I took a bite of the cannoli and set it down, brushing the crumbs off my cotton dress. “I feel like he’s getting worse instead of better. He has no interest in anything, and I know he’s depressed but none of the antidepressants are working and I don’t know how to help him. He refuses to trymusic therapy, even though the doctor thinks it would be good for him. He wants nothing to do with music.”

The guitar was a foreign object to him and didn’t entice him in the least. He didn’t write in his journals anymore. He didn’t want to hang out with his friends. He didn’t want to do anything.

“What I should have asked is, how areyoudoing?” Eddie said.

I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

My gaze wandered to a couple holding hands across the table and I felt a sharp pang of envy. Everywhere I looked now, I saw happy couples. Strolling down the street. Sitting in the park. Gazing into each other’s eyes across a sidewalk table.

Gabriel–my husband–could barely even look at me let alone touch me. I kept telling myself that I had to be patient. He was still healing. These things took time and that was the one thing I could give him since he didn’t seem to want anything else from me.

Sometimes he disappeared for days at a time. Other times, we could be in the same room but it felt like the entire Pacific Ocean separated us.

One time I reached for him in the middle of the night and when I opened my eyes, he was lying rigid with his arms at his sides and his eyes on the ceiling like he was counting down the seconds until I moved, until no part of my body touched any part of his.

Now I understood how it felt to be lonely, even when the person you loved was right beside you.

“You don’t look fine,” Eddie said.

I laughed. “Thanks. I even put on makeup today.”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” I forced a smile. “I just have to hang in there. Tell me more high school Gabriel stories.”