"I'll talk to him. It'll be okay," she said. She was already backing up. "I'm really glad you came!"
And before he could say something trite like he was glad she'd invited him, she turned around and headed back to Travis. He hailed a cab, got inside and sighed with gratitude at the blast of heat. He sat for a second, giving halting instructions to the driver, because he was distracted by the uncomfortable looking exchange between Travis and Nicole.
She'd promised it would be alright. But when her eyes locked on his as he drove past and Travis stormed back inside, something in him began to unravel. Something told him that tonight the fragile façade he'd built up had suffered a fatal crack. Life imitated art. Art imitated life. His songs these days were all about getting back the one that got away. And her book was all about letting that person go for something better.
He wasn't sure which of their art was stronger, but judging from the way Nicole had lowered her head when their eyes met, he'd wager it wasn't his.
***
Nicole sat in her car for a good thirty minutes before she got it together. Every time she thought she could do it, every time she tried to leave the car, she burst into tears. She watched kids ride by on their bikes, couples walking hand in hand with scarves wrapped around their necks and hats on their heads, oblivious to the cold because for them, love and a winter coat was enough to fight it.
Love. She started to cry again at just the thought of that twisted, double-edged sword of a word. Since she was a little girl she'd been given a pre-packaged idea of what the word meant. She loved her mother, her sister, and her father. She loved the pets she’d had growing up. She loved writing, and books, and music. She loved springtime and she loved how the leaves changed in fall. She loved all of those things at once, and yet when it came to love between a man and woman, it was do or die. One or the other, not both; a crossroads where the only certainty was the choice you made to walk down one of those paths.
She hadn't known this was going to happen, though she should have sensed it. Maybe two weeks ago, a month ago she would have been relieved. But in the time it had taken her to prove to herself that she could function with Gabriel in her life, she'd come to crave that friendship. Or, in actuality, she had just come to crave his presence. She couldn't lie to herself and say that sometimes the lines between old friends and old lovers didn't blur. But she'd been willing to work around them, to make space for him and allow herself to acknowledge the space she'd saved for him in her heart.
And it had backfired. The minute she told Travis she loved him, the second she tacked that word onto her choice to be with Travis, everything changed. Travis had his ideas about love, too. If she loved him, there was no more room for Gabriel in her life. He was sure Gabriel still wanted her, still loved her the way a person couldn't conceive of loving someone they deemed just a friend.
"It's not about you, Nicole. It's him," he'd said that night after her party, weary from an hour of arguing. "All he has to do is look at you, and it's clear. Everyone can see it. He knows he fucked up and he wants you back. All he needs is a moment of weakness from you. A bad day, a bad week. All he needs is a sign from you that you want him back. How can you ask me to be okay with him as your friend, when I know what he's after?"
And that's when she realized that pride was no substitute for the truth. Gabriel had said as much, had promised that and more if she so much as whispered she wanted him back. Since he'd spoken those words, the weight of them hung in every conversation, every glance. They followed her into her dreams, and when she woke they made guilty fingers rush over the skin he used to make feverish with ecstasy.
It stopped being all right to be friends with Gabriel long before the night of her book release party. But she hadn't wanted to let go. She hadn't realized until then the reason she truly wanted to hold onto him was because she simply couldn't let go. She loved him more than she realized.
"Okay," she'd said finally. She was tired of fighting, tired of lying to herself. She didn't want to start lying to Travis, too. Her back faced Travis and she forced a steady voice, forced her eyes to remain dry. "I'll... I'll end it. If that's what you need."
He didn't say anything. A week later and they still hadn't talked about it.
Travis had gone from jealous and possessive, to quietly apologetic and lost. He didn't know how to reach her. He didn't know how to handle how hard she was taking ending things with Gabriel. She didn't have the heart to pretend it didn't hurt her. She could have said it was the lack of trust. She could have said it was truly just his friendship she desired and that giving it up was at the heart of the matter.
But she wasn't a liar. So she said nothing. And finally, heavy-hearted and ill, she drove a few blocks away from Gabriel's apartment to avoid being seen entering his place teary-eyed by paparazzi, and then sat sobbing into her hands while time fluttered past her, taunting her with her inevitable mission.
She wasn't even good at pretending. She loved Travis. But she still loved Gabriel, too. Loved him so much that she tried to delude herself into thinking this tight rope of friendship would be enough, just so she could have him near. It was all her fault.
Everything flashed before her eyes. From the beginning, from the first time he caught her in his room years ago all the way up to these last moments. This was what their love had come to. The very thought of looking back on this and him years from now, and having it all come down to cutting him out of her life on a chilly winter afternoon made her feel like her heart was ripping at the seams. She felt it tear her in two all over again. She hated herself for that. She'd tried so hard to move beyond this ache. She wanted so badly to be stronger than this. Realizing how weak she truly was broke her. She wiped at the never-ending stream of tears with both hands, begging for mercy from some unseen source, for a little help because she didn't know if she could do this alone. She didn't know if she could say goodbye to Gabriel like this again. For good.
It took her a half-hour of weeping, blowing her nose and willing herself to get out of the car, before she finally could. Her steps were leaden and she felt hollow. A husk of human flesh masquerading as a girl named Nicole. She barely saw the world around her as she neared his building. Only the sinking sense of inevitability served as her map, letting her know when she'd reached his place with a painful squeeze in her chest where that useless heart must be.
She bit down on her lip to keep from crying and hit the buzzer. She almost sobbed when she heard his voice asking who it was.
"It's me," she said softly, willing herself not to cry as he let her into the building.
Chapter Eleven
He knew as soon as he saw her face he knew that something was horribly wrong. Her eyes were red and weary looking. Her voice was quiet, and she refused to sit down or take anything to drink. In a morbid, twisted way, he hoped it had to do with Travis. Had they broken up? Maybe there was trouble in paradise. He knew just the way to cheer her up.
"Since you're here, before I forget..."
He took her hand before she could protest and led her into his bedroom.
"Gabriel..."
He pretended not to hear the plaintive tone in her voice and reached for a CD on his desk.
"This is for you," he said, turning on his brightest smile. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. Yeah, something was wrong, very wrong, and he didn't know what it was. He didn't want to know. He just wanted to wipe that sad look off her face.
"What is this?" she asked. The curiosity in her voice was dulled by the edge of sadness, but he pressed on.
"All those songs you liked from back in the day, the ones we listened to when you helped me sort through all of this," he said, sweeping his hands over his music collection. "I put them together for you, so you wouldn't have to look for them yourself."
She stared down at the CD for a long moment, speechless.
"I know, I'm wonderful and awesome," he quipped to break up the dreadful silence. "You don't have to thank me, it's just enough for me to give back to the fans."
When her eyes started to tear up and her chin began to quiver his faint smile dissolved completely. "Nicole?"
She shook her head over and over again.
"Why, why did you have to do this?" she whispered to herself, before the first set of tears began to fall.
"Nic? Fuck, please tell me what's wrong," he whispered. He reached for her but she backed away, quick and skittish.
A bad day. A moment of weakness. That’s all it would take for all of this to fall apart. That’s all it would take for them to fall into each other again.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything, but I can't... I c-can't do this anymore. And I can't take t-this," she sobbed, holding the CD out with a shaking hand, her eyes averted.
She spared a lightning-quick glance in his direction. He was boiling over with so many emotions, but at the forefront were fear, anger, and heartache. Confusion. He knew how he must look. He knew he was silently asking her, "What did I do wrong?" to which she replied back with beautiful and empathetic eyes, "Nothing.”
He hadn't done anything. He didn’t need to. If she felt for him the way he felt for her, that was enough.
They both knew that's what was coming next. He knew already what she meant, right down to the marrow of his bones. But still he would ask, and she'd have to spell it out with painful clarity.
"What do you mean you can't?" he whispered. "What does that mean?"
"I understand if you hate me. I do, because I know this is all my fault. I shouldn't have done this. I was selfish and I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I just... I thought I could make it work."
"Nicole," he said and his voice trembled.
"I thought I could have my cake and eat it, too. I was such a bitch to do this to you. I didn't think about how I would hurt you or him."
"Don't do this..." The words were so quiet he could almost pretend he hadn’t said them.
"I can't accept this," she said, as firmly as she could. She stepped around him and set the CD back on his desk. "I can't be your friend, Gabriel. I'm sorry."
His hands reached up to push his hair back away from his face, but he didn't feel the strands under his fingertips. He didn't feel the mechanics of his body as he turned to face her. Everything was on autopilot.
He stood watching her cry, his insides crumbling at the same rate as her outsides. There were a million things he wanted to say to her, all of them jumbled up and lost in the hot flashes of loss coursing over his skin. Déjà vu again. Only this time he knew better. This time he knew what he'd be giving up.
He couldn't trust fate or time to fix this tangled mess. He couldn't wait to be good enough for her, or for her to see that she really belonged with him. He was going to have to fight to keep her in his life where once he'd just let her drift away.
"It was bound to happen sooner or later," he said with a strained chuckle. "I didn't expect it to happen this soon, but you're right, Nic. I was never meant to be just your friend."
She nodded her head, as if to say she knew, she understood. Perhaps this was why she was so heartbroken. Maybe all she needed was the right wake-up call. Maybe deep down she knew what he'd known since the moment he saw her on Jackie's front porch all those weeks ago.
"I know I messed up, Nicole. So many times it's ridiculous. But I get it now. It took losing you to understand that I was afraid of all the wrong things. Afraid of us turning into my parents. Afraid of letting you down, of something as real as what we have."
"This isn't going to change anything," she said, wiping at her face and turning away from him.
"You said you wanted to be in my life. What changed, other than the fact that your boyfriend didn't like it?” She was silent. He was relentless. "I mean let's just be completely honest. What's really changed between us, Nic? After all that time apart and that bullshit friends act we tried to pull, can you really pretend you don't still have feelings for me?"
"Please, don't make me do this. Don't make me say it. I'm sorry, okay, I made a mistake..."
"Don't make you say what?" he asked, excitement propelling him over her sadness and his fear. He grabbed her hand in his, his palm moist and his fingers clenched tightly around hers. "You still love me, don't you? You still love me as much as I love you."
"I have to go... you have to let me go..."
He shook his head, his own eyes starting to tear. "You can't ask me to do that again. You don't know what it would do to me. The only thing that kept me hanging on was the hope that I could wait it out. If I was patient, if I proved how much you mean to me..."
His voice broke and he clenched his teeth to keep from crying. Real men don't cry. His father was a firm believer in that adage. But what about in a situation like this? What if the one person meant for him was about to walk out of his life for good, and making her stay depended on making her see how broken he would be without her? What if a few well-chosen words were all that stood between him and getting his soul mate back? Was it okay to cry then?
"I was wrong to do that you. I made a promise to Travis. I-I... I love him, Gabe. I had to move on. I couldn't wait for you forever."
He clenched his teeth harder still, feeling rage boil his blood and a wave of heat rush under his skin. "I don't care. I don't care if he told you a million times that he loves you. I don't care if you said it a million times back. He will
never
love you as much as I do," he said fiercely, with all the conviction he had within him. "He doesn't know how. And it's not his fault. I almost don't blame him for wanting you so bad, for wanting to keep us apart. But you'll never belong together the way we do and he knows it. So do you."
He placed the hand he was gripping against his heart, and he knew as she sobbed and wiped futilely at her tears that she felt his heart pounding. "That's for you, Nic. This belongs to you. All of me does."
She finally looked up into his eyes and saw him crying for the second time in her life. The first time it had been because he knew he was going to have to let her go. He couldn't commit back then, and she couldn't keep taking a little piece of him, waiting in the hope that one day he would say all he was saying right now.
He knew it wasn't fair he should ask this of her now when she had been ready to charge forward into a future without him. It wasn't right to ask her to abandon what she'd built with Travis, her word, her hard won — if brief — freedom from the very heartache they were feeling now.
Somehow, that didn't change a thing. When he asked again, "Do you still love me?" she was forced to acknowledge what her tears said plainly.
"Yes."
He sighed his relief, a forlorn smile accompanying it. One small victory. One wall scaled to get to her. "Then don't go back to him," he whispered. "Stay. Stay with me."
"Gabriel... I can't... it's not that simple." She was trying so hard not to cry, but a steady stream of tears belied her efforts.
"Yes, it is. It's the simplest thing in the world. You and me, sweetheart. You and me," he said softly, soothingly, coming closer to her. "Nothing else makes more sense than that."
He pulled her into his embrace and she melted into it. Her head was cradled against his shoulder, a large hand shaking in the soft, mussed strands of her hair. Her breath quickened against him, her chest rose and fell against his and everything in that moment was a meeting of breath, longing, and pain.
Why couldn't they have this? He knew she’d tried to hold onto the dream, the beautiful lie of it all. She’d tried to package her love for him in a way Travis would accept, a way that would keep them together somehow.
Travis couldn’t let that happen anymore and they both knew why. Standing in this room alone with her, in just a simple embrace was consuming his senses. He could feel her responding in kind. This was not friendship. This was not love gone by. This was real, as real as her shaky breaths against his neck, the tears dripping onto his t-shirt. It was evidenced in the way she choked on a sob when he pressed his lips to her forehead.
He knew she meant to look up and say goodbye. She was retreating and soon she would pull away from him.
Why can't you stay? Why can't we be together?
But when she did look up, those beautiful brown eyes, glazed with tears, burned with longing and a sadness so deep he felt like he could see through her. She held him captive, waiting for her to answer his silent plea.
Stay with me. Please, stay
.
She swallowed. She whispered his name.
She leaned up to kiss him and without thinking he met her halfway, his lips and the hunger in his body the perfect match to her own.
His lips smashed into hers, hungry and brutal in their quest for absolution, for her to change her mind and undo this year and a half long nightmare he'd endured. God, the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms and the way they shared one breath was what he'd wanted more than he could say. It had taken fear of losing her forever to make him show it. He wished he was stronger, but he was just a man. Just human, and it would have taken a strength he didn't possess to let her leave, to let her go the way he knew he should. But it was so hard to remember why when he felt her soft lips, the knowing licks of her tongue over his. New longing and old desire clashed and merged as the woman he loved surrendered her mouth to his.
He backed her into the bookcase pressing an arm out to brace himself, to clutch at the sturdy wood when she moaned into his mouth and her gorgeous body writhed against him. Her hands thawed his body as they ran up and down his sides under his shirt, over his chest and then around to grasp his back. It was like she was trying to memorize him, trying to prove he was in fact still here. He let her know when his hips rolled into hers, revealing the hard, pulsing arousal trapped in his clothes. He didn't want to break from her mouth, he wanted to taste her forever.
But somewhere beyond this hasty reunion was fear. Time. Ticking away, ticking down. Reality was just outside of this safe place of truth and yearning. It was pressing in; it would crack down the barrier soon. He needed to touch her, feel her. He needed to be inside her before reason and sense broke them apart again.
"Nicole... I missed you, sweetheart," he moaned desperately into her ear as he tilted her head back and attacked the soft skin of her neck with sensuous kisses and nips. "Missed you so fucking much," he growled, and her shivers and whimpers in his ear drove him on. Drove him mad.
"Gabriel," she whispered in a sob, her head tilted back as a strong hand cupped her straining breast through her shirt. She couldn't tell if she was trying to make him see reason or begging him for more. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Cognitive thought was beyond her. She was all impulse, prickling nerve endings and delicious responses. She was the girl on his bed during that first embarrassing encounter, the girl who heard down to her soul when he said he loved her that first time. She was the girl who watched him on stage, who smiled and laughed with him in bed, teased him under the flashing lights of clubs and in the dark corners of bars. She was the girl who stared at her ceiling, sweaty and spent from reenacting his touch, wondering with tears in her eyes where he was.
She was this woman now, the one who was supposed to be beyond all of that. She was all of those things and it didn't matter. At the end of the day, every one of those evolutions of herself was in love with Gabriel. Time didn't matter. Pain was an illusion now; the logic that said she should stop was shoved into the same cage all of her love and longing had been in before it was loosed by the fear of never seeing him again.
Even Travis, those blue eyes, those soft lips, his smile and his warmth didn't dare enter this place they'd forged. Her promise to him, the words she spoke and meant, faded into blackness under the white-hot power of Gabriel's touch.