Choked the life from us.
The wolf arrived.
And I surrendered.
I’ll retrace my steps to show you.
If you’re not done, neither am I.
I toss asidethe chalk pen, peering down at the poem I’ve just finished copying onto the chalkboard. Spill The Beans entries lie scattered on the table.
Since I came back from Sugar Creek, I’ve chosen sunny and uplifting entries. Today, I didn’t feel like it. The longer I go without Gabriel, the more I miss him. I’ve been home a little over three weeks, and this pain in the center of my chest growsbigger every day. It’s not like it was when he was in prison, when I desperately wanted him and couldn’t have him. This is more like yearning, because he’s out in the world, attainable. I fantasize about hopping in my car and pointing it north, about?—
“Is Avery Woodruff here?”
My heart turns over at the sound of that familiar voice, saying my old name.
“Uh,” Laramie flounders, glancing to where I sit, tucked in a quiet corner of Gem. She looks back at the man in front of her.
“There isn’t an Avery Woodruff here,” Laramie says, placing so much emphasis on my former last name that Gabriel catches on right away.
His head tips up slowly, lowering at the same pace. “Right. Avery Burke. Is she here?”
Laramie glances my way a second time, meeting my eyes. I nod my approval, but Gabriel doesn’t wait. He turns, following Laramie’s gaze.
Our eyes meet, and everything in the space between us ceases to exist. The bitter scent of coffee, the low hum of conversation, the scream of grinding beans, it’s all drowned out by my racing pulse.
If my hands weren’t curled into fists, my fingernails leaving dents in my skin, I might press down on my chest to keep my heart in my body.
He’s walking toward me, each step measured, and all I can think is that I don’t know how I will survive this. I’ve been proud of myself these past few weeks, knowing I tangoed with Gabriel and walked away upright. I’ve been waiting for that growing hole in my chest to peak, thinking if I could just make it to the apex, I’d be ok. It would fill in, I’d heal and scar, like before.
Seeing him now makes me doubt the end exists for us.
He stops beside the chair on the other side of my table. He’s wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. It’s nothing special, except somehow it is, because it’s on him.
“Hello.” His voice is low, husky, the tenor making me bite my lower lip.
“Hi,” I manage after a few heavy seconds.
He exhales a thick breath, eyes darkening. My skin prickles.
If closure is what Sugar Creek was supposed to gift us, it looks like we missed the mark.
Gabriel grips the back of the chair, looking down at the chalkboard. “Your work?” He sounds impressed.
“Yeah. In exchange for free coffee and baked goods.”
Gabriel skims the poem. “That’s a valuable trade.”
“I like to think so.” I point at the wall. “It goes up there.”
Gabriel pulls out the chair and sits. His long legs spread out under the table, one of them pushing between my legs. I resist the urge to capture him with my calves and squeeze.
“I’m delivering the arch for your sister.” He looks around. “I wasn’t expecting to arrive at a coffee shop.”
“This is Cam’s place. And Dani’s, too, but Cam operates it. Anyway, they’re getting married out back. That’s why you’re delivering the arch here.” I take a breath.
Gabriel smiles knowingly. “Why are you nervous?”
