Page 145 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
The other night, I was coming out of the upstairs bathroom when he walked past with a gigantic bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. “Since we’re not sharing a bed,” he said.
I almost regretted giving him that notebook, but my mind kept reverting to what he said on Tuesday night.I think I was the luckiest man in the world.
“Our relationship was never solely based on sex,” I said, carrying my breakfast out to the deck. The sky was cloudy, but the sun was burning through. “It’s all the rest of the stuff we have to figure out.”
“Yeah, okay,” Annika said. “But if I were staying with my ex in his beach house, you can bet your ass I’d be sleeping in his bed. Sex with your ex is a thing, you know.”
Otis ran onto the deck to greet me. He held up his paw and I gave him a high five, a cute little trick Gabriel taught him. I gave him a good rub behind the ears and when he trotted away, I tracked him with my eyes. Wherever Otis went, Gabriel was bound to be. Otis disappeared behind the tall bushes that obstructed my view of the swimming pool. Mystery solved.
“If you love the guy, what are you even trying to figure out?”
Valid question. WhatwasI trying to figure out?
“I just need to know that I can trust him.” I finished the last bite of my Pop-Tart and brushed the crumbs off my tank top then rinsed my mug in the sink.
“Do you think he has another wife and some kids stashed away? Maybe he’s a secret assassin.” She chortled. “Can you imagine? Make sure you check the garage and the basement for ammunition and passports with secret identities. You can never be too safe!”
I snorted. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Let me know if you find anything incriminating,” she shouted as I cut the call and pocketed my phone.
My feet carried me to the swimming pool when Ishould haveheaded directly to the studio to make up for this morning’s late start and yesterday’s impromptu ride on the back of Gabriel’s motorcycle in which I was forced to hold on tight, so I wouldn’t end up in a ditch on the side of the road.
We went for lobster rolls and ate on the docks, fending off the seagulls. Afterward, Gabriel took me to the lighthouse and told me that when he went there for New Year’s Eve two years ago, Buddhist monks showed up in saffron robes banging drums.
He said it was magical.
After our outing, I made it back to the house unscathed but slightly shaken by just how much I’d missed him.
But unlike Gabriel, I worked better in the light of day and since we were both working on tight deadlines, I needed to focus. On my art. Not on my favorite ex swimming underwater.
Keep walking. Get to work.
I kicked off my flip-flops and sat on the edge of the pool with my legs dangling in the water. I watched him swimming across the bottom of the pool and tried to hold my breath for the entire time he stayed under but lost the fight long before his head emerged.
By my count, he’d done two and a half laps.
“How do you smoke so many cigarettes and still hold your breath underwater for so long?” I asked when he finally came up for air.
His back was to me at the opposite side of the pool, but something caught my eye. Gabriel turned before I could make out if it was a tattoo on his lower back or just a trick of the light.
I kicked my foot and splashed his face as he swam toward me.
That’s for having condoms in your drawer.
I splashed him again.
That’s for keeping me up last night.
Another splash.
That’s for making me want you again when only a month ago I was over you.
He grabbed my calf and wrapped his hand around it.
“It’s good for breath control,” he said, his voice low and husky, his hand still wrapped around my calf like he had no intention of ever letting go.
I’ll bet.
