Page 69 of It Couldn't Be You
“Hey,” he said as we sat on the table with our feet on the bench. “Can I tell you something kind of awkward?”
“Sure?” I said, then took a sip of the bottle.
“I saw Jordan with that girl from the mechanic shop. They were in one of those restaurants we stopped in.” I was secretly pleased he didn’t remember her name. “Just the two of them sitting at a candlelit table.”
“Oh,” I said. “That isn’t too surprising. They seemed reunited at his Nana’s funeral.”
He nodded, gauging my reaction. “Sorry if I shouldn’t have brought it up. I just thought I should tell you.”
“No, I’m glad you told me. It kind of confirms my own suspicions. I’m glad to know.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, a little hesitant, like walking on unsteady ground.
“Yeah, you know, it actually makes a lot of sense. The two of them. They were always so perfect together, all through high school. And the way he talked about her like, in his mind, it should’ve been the two of them, but she left so he was…” I sighed. “I guess he was settling for me until she returned.”
“That’s not exactly the story, Em. He wanted tomarry you, and you broke up with him. Right now, God, you could be engaged.” He took a big swig of Champagne.
I took a swig, too. “Yeah, he wanted to marry me if he couldn’t marry her. I’m so glad I followed my instincts because there was so much we couldn’t have survived, including the return of Sophia.”
He shook his head. “Emma, you don’t realize the force of a woman you are.”
“I don’t feel much like a force. This story with Jordan makes me feel like a little blip in Sophia and his story. I just look at what we had differently now. I had already questioned my feelings, and now I’m questioning his. Not angrily. Not bitterly. Just in hindsight. I’m not the main character, not the Sophia, just a little blip in the real love story.”
“You are no blip, Emma. I don’t care what guy it is or whoever shows up. You are impossible to be a blip in a story. You’re the girl a guy writes a story about. She’s just him reeling from the loss of you, I’m sure.” His eyes were soft on me.
I pushed my arms against his. He was absolutely wrong. Sophia was quite obviously now the story for Jordan, but Gabriel made my heart twist in my chest. I liked how he talked about me. I liked my name in his mouth. He handed me the Champagne.
“I think I’m happy for Jordan, actually,” I said.
He had this little smile. He was trying to hold it back with the corners of his mouth resisting the pull as he said, “I’m glad you’re taking it so well.”
“You don’t believe me?” I raised an eyebrow.
“I believe you.”
“Why are you doing this weird little smile then?” I pointed at his mouth, almost touching his lips again.
“That’s not what I’m smiling about,” he said, trying not to laugh.
“What?” I asked. Our noses were almost touching. We were laughing with our breath mingling, and we both smelled like his cologne.
The sky cracked with loud thunder. My body was buzzing from the bubbly drink, from his closeness.
“It’s probably about to rain,” he said. His eyes were stuck on mine.
“I don’t mind,” I said. “I like to be in the rain.”
“Me, too. It’s one of the things I hate about California. It never rains.”
“I remember. It’s one of the things we have in common.” I looked at the sky.
“One of the many.” He was smiling again.
“I know. Katie sometimes calls us twins.”
“I don’t like that.” He shivered dramatically. I laughed, but relished it because I always hated the nickname too.
“Do you still want to buy some big old house someday?”
