Page 152 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
“I told you I was fine,” she said in a clipped tone.
It was the equivalent ofFuck off. But I didn’t take the hint. I stayed and studied the canvas, searching for clues, but I couldn’t figure out what she was going for.
Flyers, pieces of broken glass, bottle caps, a flattened Lucky Strike packet, all glued to the canvas. Midnight blue paint. Silver…tin foil? Some kind of grid mapped out.
I moved down to the other end and studied her sketches. Hands. There were a lot of hands. I moved in closer. That looked like my hand. Theyalllooked like my hand.
She looked over then faced forward again. “It’s pure chaos right now.”
“But you have a vision,” I said.
“I have a vision. I’m mapping the cosmos.”
“A microcosm of the universe.”
Cleo looked at me. “Aren’t we all?”
I moved next to her as if it were an invitation to get closer. “I don’t know about everyone, but I know that you are.Youare an entire universe.”
“What?” she whispered.
“I found it in the Milan Kundera book you gave me the day I left. The teardrop mandala,” I clarified. “It was folded into a small square, tucked into the pages of the book, and I didn’t find it until a year after I left. You wrote a note on the back.”
She swallowed, licked her lips. “What did the note say?”
“It was a Rumi quote. That’s how I found Rumi. Through you.”
“’You are a universe in ecstatic motion,’” she said.
“Yes.” I nodded, watching her face in profile.
She kept gluing paper to the canvas while I wracked my brain for the right words to end this stalemate.
I took a stab at it. “Maya and I are just friends.”
“So, she said.”
It sounded like an accusation. I exhaled loudly. “I never slept with her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Great. Good to know,” she said sharply. “What am I supposed to say to that?”
“Say whatever the fuck you want.” I threw my hands in the air, exasperated. “Just saysomething.Preferably something honest because you might be surprised to hear that I’m not a fucking mind reader. I can’t fix this if you don’t tell me what the fucking problem is.”
“No one’s asking you tofixanything.” She spun to face me. “I was doing just fine until you showed up. Why now, Gabriel? You don’t even remember me so what makes you so sure you even want me back?”
“I just know that I need you in my life. Maybe it’s a gut feeling. Maybe it’s my heart and soul calling the shots. I can’teven explain how I know. I just do.” I shrugged like I had no idea because truthfully, I didn’t.
I had no memories, no concrete proof, just a feeling that my life wasn’t complete without her in it. And reading her words in the notebook only confirmed what I’d already suspected. Our love story was epic. Strong enough to stand the test of time. Resilient enough to bounce back from adversity.
She laughed under her breath. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? You abandoned me. You walked out the door without looking back. And now here you are, expecting me to forget all the pain you caused me?—”
“I’m not asking you to forget. I’m not expecting you to just let me off the hook. I’m just asking you to be honest with me?—”
“You want honesty?” Her eyes narrowed on me. “I hate that Maya knows things about you that I don’t. I hate that you never once mentioned her even though she played a pivotal role in planting that garden you love so much. I hate that I didn’t know you had a tattoo. I hate that you’ve created this whole life for yourself in a house we never shared….”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she gritted her teeth and warded me off when I reached for her.
“But what I hate the most is that I used to know all these little things about you and now I don’t. I mean, you changed your shower gel, and I had no idea. You arrange your books in alphabetical order by the author now whereas before you never did that. And it is so, so stupid to even care about any of that. I don’t want to care.”
