He held her gaze, then looked down and sighed. “I’d probably have done the same.”
Then he moved to hold her hand again.
* * *
By the time Julia returned home, her mood had improved considerably. She didn’t feel well, mind you, or whole. For how could she be whole when her other half had rejected her?
After a productive weekend, Julia was heartened enough by the progress she made on her schoolwork to return one of Nicole’s telephone calls. Nicole wondered why Julia stopped coming to her weekly therapy sessions. Julia shyly explained that she and Gabriel were no longer together and that he’d been paying for her therapy, to which her therapist responded that Gabriel was continuing to pay for her therapy—indefinitely.
Luckily, both women agreed that it would be inappropriate to allow him to continue footing the bill, especially since he had effectively created the new, pressing reason for Julia to continue with therapy. So Gabriel’s money was unceremoniously returned to him and new fees were assessed on a sliding scale, geared to Julia’s income.
In other words, Nicole would charge Julia a ridiculously low fee in keeping with her fixed income as a student and be perfectly happy to do so. In their appointment on Wednesday, roughly two weeks after Gabriel’s departure, they discussed Julia’s heartbreak and the way in which she’d chosen to deal with it. Nicole challenged her to focus on the positive aspects of her life and also, to finish her thesis. Both aspects of her advice resonated with Julia.
That evening, after having made progress on her writing, Julia fell asleep. She felt the bed shift and a warm body curled around her like a cocoon, drawing her close. An all too familiar nose nuzzled her neck, and the softest whisper of breath blew across her shoulder.
“Gabriel?”
He hummed into her skin but didn’t answer.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, tears suddenly streaming down her face.
Gabriel was silent as he reached up to wipe away her tears, then he pressed his lips to her cheeks over and over again.
“I know you loved me.” Julia relaxed into their spooned position and closed her eyes. “I just don’t understand why you didn’t love me enough to stay.”
The hands that held her tightly relaxed minutely until they finally disappeared altogether, leaving Julia alone and cold in her single bed.
* * *
Julia spent part of the next morning staring out the window, contemplating the very strange dream she’d had the night before. Gabriel had returned to her, but he was still silent. He hadn’t offered an explanation or begged for forgiveness. He’d simply rejoined her in bed.
She’d nestled into him, his body familiar and comforting. She’d sighed in relief at his return, her subconscious unwilling or unable to reject him.
It wasn’t really a dream—just a different kind of nightmare.
After a modest breakfast, she checked her emails and text messages. As she scrolled through the incoming texts on her iPhone, she received the following from Rachel:
Hey Julia! What’s up with Gabriel not answering his phone? I tried the landline too, but he wouldn’t pick up. I guess things must still be hot and heavy, otherwise he’d answer his phone once in a while.
I’ve picked out the bridesmaid’s dresses—a dark red that will look great on you. I’ll send the link thru email and you can tell me what you think. You’ll have to email me your measurements so I can order the dress.
By the way, I finally met Scott’s girlfriend! Her son, Quinn, is adorable.
Love you, Rachel.
Julia’s first instinct was to close the text and ignore it. That’s what she did to Rachel after Simon and Natalie humiliated her. But as her therapist had impressed upon her, this time she needed to do something different. Something braver.
She took a deep breath and typed out a response:
Rachel, The bridesmaid dresses sound beautiful. I’ll make sure to send you my measurements. I’m glad you met Scott’s girlfriend. I’m looking forward to meeting her and her little boy.
I haven’t spoken to Gabriel in days. I don’t know where he is. He left. It’s over. J.
It took exactly one minute and forty-five seconds for Julia’s iPhone to ring, indicating a call from Rachel. Unfortunately, Julia’s courage gave out at that moment, and she didn’t answer. The following text arrived shortly thereafter:
I’m going to kill him. -R
Chapter 30
Gabriel strode through the misty blackness into the woods behind what had been the Clarks’ house. He brought a flashlight, but he almost didn’t need it. He knew the woods so well that even if he’d been drunk or coked out of his mind he could find his way to the orchard and back again. He was good at navigating the dark.
He stood at the orchard’s periphery, eyes closed, as the chilled rain washed down. If he opened his eyes and squinted, he could almost see her—the outline of a teenage girl resting on a man’s chest, the couple nestled on an old, wool blanket. Her hair floated across her shoulders, her arm rested on his waist. He could barely see the man’s face, but he could tell that the man was besotted with the brown-eyed angel in his arms.
Gabriel stood very still, listening to the echoes of memories that were half-dreams…
“Do you have to leave?”
“Yes, but not tonight.”
“Will you come back?”
“I’m going to be thrown out of Paradise tomorrow, Beatrice. Our only hope is that you find me afterward. Look for me in Hell.”
He hadn’t planned to return to the orchard without her. He hadn’t planned to leave her. He’d broken her heart. Although he was oppressed by guilt and regret, he knew he’d make the same decision again.
Julianne had already given up so much to be with him. He’d be damned if she gave up her future too.
* * *
Gabriel stood shirtless in his old bedroom, drying his hair with a towel and fumbling with the stereo. He was in the mood for painful music. Which meant, at that moment, that he was listening to “Blood of Eden” by Peter Gabriel. Midway through the chorus, the telephone began to ring. He’d forgotten to ask Richard to cancel the telephone service when he moved to Philadelphia, after Gabriel bought the house.
Leaving the call unanswered, Gabriel paced like a restless ghost. He reclined on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a passing fancy, he knew, but he swore he could smell Julia’s scent on his pillow and that he could hear the gentle tide of her breathing. He toyed with the platinum band on his finger, twisting it over and over again. Lines from Dante’s La Vita Nuova crowded his mind, describing Beatrice’s rejection:
“By this false and evil rumour
which seemed to misfame me of vice…
she who was the destroyer of all evil
and the queen of all good, coming where I was,
denied me her most sweet salutation,
in the which alone was my blessedness.” Gabriel had no right to compare his situation to Dante’s, since his misfortune was the result of his own choice. Nevertheless, as the darkness closed in around him, he was stricken by the possibility that he’d lost his blessedness. Forever.
Chapter 31
“That son of a bitch!” Tom Mitchell swore loudly into his daughter’s ear. She had to hold her iPhone at arm’s length in order to protect her eardrums. “When did this happen?”
“Um, in March.” Julia sniffled. “He confirmed it via email.”
“Son of a bitch. What was his reason?”
“He didn’t give me one.” She didn’t have the energy to describe the events leading up to her separation from Gabriel, and anything having to do with the academic fraud allegations would just make Tom angrier.
“I’ll shoot him.”
“Dad, please.” The conversation was difficult enough without having to worry about shotguns being loaded and Gabriel’s lily-white tail being hunted through the woods of Selinsgrove.
Tom breathed heavily into the phone. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know.”
“I hate to say this, Jules, because I know you—cared for him, but Gabriel is a cokehead. Once an addict, always an addict. Maybe he’s using again. Maybe he ran into trouble with his dealer. Drugs are a messy business, and I’m glad he’s gone. The farther away from you he is the better.”
Julia didn’t cry at her father’s words, but her heart clenched. “Please don’t say things like that, Dad. For all we know, he’s in Italy working on his book.”
“In a crack house.”
“Dad, please.”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I want my little girl to find someone good and be happy.”
“I want that for you too,” she said.
“Well, we’re quite a pair.” He cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. “Tell me about graduation. I made some money from the sale of the house, and I’d like to come to graduation. We should also talk about what you want to do this summer. Your room in the new house is waiting for you. You can paint it any color you want. Hell, paint it pink.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I haven’t wanted a pink room in a long time, but thanks, Dad.”
Although Selinsgrove was the last place Julia wanted to go at that moment, at least she had a parent and a home, a home that didn’t have bad associations with either Simon or Sharon. Or him.