How often I wait at my window and watch for you.
I wonder if you care,
How my body aches for the sound of you,
The smell of you,
The feel of you,
The taste of you,
The weight of your body on mine.
I would drown myself in you, if I could, my sweet.
Allow your purity,
Your clarity,
Your calm,
To cleanse my soul of sins.
And just like the rain,
My life depends on you.
My heart beats only when you decide,
My soul awakens from slumber when you choose.
My very existence, sweetheart, is in your liquid hands.
You are source and summit of everything.
For without you, life as I know it,
And all the lives I have yet to live,
Would dry up,
And cease to exist.
Because if I am thunder,
You, my darling, are rain.
I cannot exist without you.
But you,
You can exist without me.
You will continue to rise and fall,
Into the sky,
Into the sea,
Onto the land,
Onto the trees,
Whether I accompany you or not.
And my greatest fear,
The one that keeps me watching and waiting,
Is that your cloud will one day pass over me,
And travel far away,
To rain on someone else.
Is it possible to fall in love with words? I know they’re intangible objects, but they feel so alive to me. Gabriel’s words have woven their way through my soul and wrapped around my heart in a tight embrace.
My physical reaction is visceral and overwhelming. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Words have touched me deeply before, but they have never shaken me to my core. Tears tumble out of my eyes while the lump of muscle in my chest pounds hard and heavy against my ribs.
I thought I understood love. But his words make me realize, I know nothing at all. I’ve never known a love that’s like rain, or any of the other ways I’m sure he’ll describe it in the book.
There’s something else behind my body’s reaction. A longing, an ache, a sense of loss. Almost as if I’m missing something I’ve never had. I rub at my chest to try to ease the tightness. I wish his words would loosen their grip on me, just a bit. Just enough so that I can breathe.
I close the book and put it aside. I’d hoped to read a few more poems before I went to sleep, but I know my heart can’t take any more tonight. I guess one poem a night will have to do.
Turning off the bedside lamp, I close my eyes. Although the room is silent, all I can hear are Gabriel’s beautiful words on repeat in my mind. His soft-spoken Spanish accent lulls me into a distant, dream-like state.
I’m not sure if I dream it, but I could swear the last thing I hear before I fall asleep is the gentle patter of rain against my windows.
“Good morning, Ava.”
Finishing my stretch, I jump at the large shadow behind me and place a hand over my racing heart.
“Gabriel, hi. I haven’t seen you for a few weeks. I was wondering if you’d ever come back.”
“I was here yesterday.”
“You were?”
“Yes.”
“How come you didn’t say hi?” I try to focus on his answer and not the firm muscles in his arm as he stretches them across his chest.
Gabriel leans down and works his calf muscles. His hair falls forward, obscuring his handsome face from view. “You were with your boyfriend. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
My brow furrows. “Boyfriend? Oh. You mean Finn?” Gabriel looks up and frowns when I start laughing. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my best friend. We live together.” I tried to rope Finn into jogging with me yesterday morning. Having discovered how much I enjoy running with a partner, and with Gabriel still missing, I thought it would be a good solution. It wasn’t. Finn hated it and told me I’m on my own from now on. He prefers the gym where he can show off and flirt with women.
Gabriel stands up and adjusts his T-shirt. “Oh. I see. You seemed very close with each other.”
I nod, trying not to read too much into Gabriel’s questioning. “We are. He’s the other half of me, just not in that way. People get confused about our relationship all the time. It’s hard to explain. Describing us as brother and sister doesn’t do our connection justice, but at the same time, we’re not romantic at all.”
Placing his hands on his hips, he pauses. “I think I understand. Not all kinds of love can have a label placed on them because the words haven’t been invented yet.”
A slow smile spreads across my cheeks. He gets it. “Exactly.”
Gabriel drops his arms and asks if I’m ready to start the morning work-out. Our familiar rhythm returns as we start to jog. For several minutes, the only sound is of our feet hitting the ground.
“So how have you been?” I ask, wanting to address his absence without prying.
“Fine. You?”
“I’ve been great, thanks.”
“Good.”
“We’re back to single syllables, huh?”
He smirks. “Yes.”
“And here I was thinking we’d made some progress. Two weeks away and now we’re back to square one,” I tease.
He turns to me with a smile. “You talk enough for the both of us.”
“Would you prefer it if I didn’t?”
He doesn’t answer straight away. Then he shrugs. “It’s okay. Your voice is like listening to background music when I run.”
I laugh. “Glad I can be of service.”
“Me, too. Well, carry on then,” he says when I don’t reply.
“Excuse me. I’m not here to entertain you on command.”
“But you are like the radio, no? I can switch you on and off.” Feeling the effects of the run, our laughter is breathy when he twists his hand, as if turning up the volume.
“Oh, my God. Just for that, I’m not going to talk now.” My vow of silence lasts for all of five minutes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gabriel smile when I open my mouth. I ignore him. “I read some of your poems. Well, I’ve read one so far, but I bought three of your books last weekend. Although one is in Spanish so…” I trail off from my rambling at the strange look that has entered his eyes.
“Which one did you read?”
My sigh is wistful. “‘You Are The Rain.’ I know I still have the rest of the collection to read, but it became my favorite poem in a heartbeat. I’ve never been moved like that before. My whole body came to life as I was reading your words.”
The shutters fall over his face, turning his slate eyes to steel. Even though we’re running side by side, a fifty-foot wall has gone up between us in the blink of an eye.
Confused by the sudden chill in the atmosphere, I try to lower the wall. “It’s so beautiful, Gabriel. I’ve only read one of your poems, but it’s obvious how talented you are. Not that you need me to tell you that. Pretty sure the Nobel and Pulitzer prizes gave you a heads up, right?”
He just grunts in response to my joke. I frown, watching the muscle tick in his jaw. “Not a fan of talking about your work?”
Tiny droplets of sweat fly at the sharp shake of his head.
“If I had talent like that, I’d shout it from the rooftops.”
“Enough.” The word is even more menacing for being delivered in a quiet voice, rather than shouted. He comes to an abrupt stop and locks his fiery gaze onto mine. I take a step back and wrap my arms around myself.
Gabriel breaks eye contact and mutters something in Spanish under his breath. When he looks back up at me, I can see traces of regret swirling in his pupils. But enough of this moody version of Gabriel remains to keep me on edge. “Enough.”
I twist my hands in front of me and nod.
Gabriel jogs past me while I watch with wide eyes, unsure whether to follow him. He turns his head to the side, as if to check whether I’ve joined him. When he doesn’t see me, his head twists back further to where I’m still standing, shaken by his reaction to my simple question. He doesn’t stop running, and I don’t start, but our eyes remain connected until he turns the corner out of view.
I stare out into the distance, trying and failing to reconcile the poet who moved me to tears with his words last night, with the mercurial man who loses his temper in the bright light of day.
Still confused by our last encounter, I stay away from the park for a few days. Instead, I join Finn at the gym.
I still fall asleep to Gabriel’s words each night, though. They’ve become a part of my evening routine, just as running with him was becoming for the morning.
I don’t know what his problem is, but I realized yesterday that I was once again handing someone power over my life. I enjoy running in the park before work, with or without Gabriel. His bad social skills have no right to stop me from doing something I love.
I’m sitting on the park bench, tying up my sneakers before my run, when someone sits next to me. Gabriel’s muscular thigh brushes against mine.
“Good morning, Ava. I was hoping to see you.”
Unsure of which version of him I’m going to see, I take my time lifting my face to Gabriel’s. My eyes travel over the dark stubble around his chin and the solemn expression on his face. He looks tired. Despite my anger and confusion, it’s good to see him. “You were?”
He maintains eye contact, letting me see his sincerity. “Yes.”
I almost ask him what happened, but I want the explanation and apology to come from him. I play with my fingers, wondering if he’ll speak without being prompted for once.
To my surprise, Gabriel doesn’t make me wait. He places his large hand over mine, making me look up at him again.
“I’m sorry for how I behaved the last time I saw you. I’m having… writer’s block, so I don’t like to talk about my writing or career. It’s a difficult topic. I apologize for being Grumpelstiltskin, as you call me.”
My lips are pressed together but a small laugh slips out. Gabriel’s silky Spanish tongue trying to wrap around the word Grumpelstiltskin is nothing short of charming. And the ridiculous, over-exaggerated pout that he’s sporting shouldn’t look as good as it does.
A gentleness enters his eyes at my laugh. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
The pout, combined with the puppy dog eyes he’s making crumble my resolve. “Fine. But the tortured, brooding artist thing is becoming old, Gabriel. Don’t do it again.”
“Ah. But it would be wrong of me to make promises I couldn’t keep, no?”
I push my palm against his firm chest and try to give him a playful shove, but he doesn’t budge. He looks down to our point of contact. The spell breaks for both of us at the same time. I pull my hand away. He clears his throat.
I stand up and start to stretch. “Aren’t poets supposed to be skinny and pale?”
Joining me, Gabriel raises an eyebrow and looks down at his tanned skin and masculine physique with unashamed arrogance.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, Fabio. No need to brag.”
“Fabio?” He scowls.
I shrug, laughing. “I have no idea who that is, but my mom always says, ‘Men strut around like they’re Fabio.’ So it seemed like it would fit this situation.”
“I am not Fabio.”
Clutching my stomach does nothing to stop the laughter from pouring out.
“Okay, if you say so.”
“Say it.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Say what, Fabio?”
My laughter drowns out the sound of Gabriel’s growl. When I’ve calmed down, he’s still staring at me, tapping his sneaker on the ground. I raise my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re not Fabio.”
He nods. “Or?”
I think about it and smile. “Or Grumpelstiltskin.”
Satisfied, he uncrosses his arms and begins to jog with a smile on his face.
“Well, not right now, anyway,” I say loud enough for Gabriel to hear.
His back stiffens, before he turns back to look at me. He gestures with his fingers and points in my direction, as if to say he’s watching me. Gabriel shakes his head when all I do is laugh in reply. Jogging to catch up, I look up at him with an innocent expression. His eyes darken, but he says nothing else.
The rest of the run carries on as usual, in loud and comfortable silence. When we reach the point where we usually part ways, Gabriel holds up a hand.
“Wait.”
“What’s up?”
“Would”—he runs a hand through his damp hair and breathes out—“Would you like to go for coffee?”
My eyebrows shoot up so high, I’m surprised they’re still attached to my face. “Coffee?”
“Yes. It’s a hot liquid you Americans love to drink, although it tastes nothing like what we have in Latin America. Or like they have in Europe.”
I bite my lip as I consider his invitation, a small spark running through me when his eyes follow the movement. “I’m not supposed to drink coffee. And I’ve never had it, so I wouldn’t know which continent was superior at making it.”
I ignore the question in his eyes for the moment. “But I guess I could have an herbal tea or something.”
“Okay. Follow me. I know a good place.”
My mom’s paranoia picks the perfect moment to ring through my head. This whole situation is unchartered territory for me. I stop walking.
“Wait. My mom warned me about stranger danger and going places with unfamiliar men. Especially the charming ones who offer you a lollipop or a cup of coffee,” I half-joke.
For the first time since I met him, Gabriel smiles. A bright, full-blown smile that stretches across his whole face. Despite the crinkles in the corners, he looks younger, and if possible, more handsome.
I’m too afraid to comment on his smile in case I cause it to fall. But then something even more amazing happens. He laughs. A deep, husky rumble that sounds like silk and sin. I stare at him, open-mouthed, increasing his amusement.
Placing his fingertips under my jaw, he pushes it closed. “You’ll catch flies, Ava.”
His hand brushes against my neck when he releases me. I try to recover the power of speech. Gabriel’s lips have returned to a straight line but laughter still lingers in his eyes. “You’ve already ignored your mother’s advice and been running with me for the past few weeks.”
“Yes, but that’s in a public place. There are witnesses. And besides, if I remember correctly, you’re the one who started running with me, not the other way around.”
He doesn’t reward me with his rich laughter again, but his shoulders shake. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Have it your way.” He pulls his cell phone out of the pocket in his running shorts and hands it to me. “Call your friend. Tell him where we’re going.”
I hesitate before taking the phone from Gabriel’s warm hands. I know I’m probably making myself seem stupid, but my new found confidence has faltered when I need it most. I’ve never been in this position before, and I need some reassurance.
“Hello?”
“Finn, it’s me.”
“Ave?” I hear the rustle of sheets. His croaky voice switches to alertness. “Are you okay? Where are you? Why are you calling from this number? Do you need me to come and get you?”
“I’m fine, I promise. I’m using Gabriel’s phone.”
“Gabriel?”
I look up at the man in question, who is watching me with amusement. I turn my back to him and take a few steps forward. “You know, the guy from the park.”
“Oh. Why are you using his phone and not yours?”
“It was a spur of the moment thing. He asked me out for coffee and I wasn’t sure if I should go with him, so he told me to call you.”
I smile, warmth coursing through me. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. I feel perfectly safe. I just wanted to let you know where we’re going. You know, in case you need to send out a search party.”
“This is the first joke of yours that isn’t funny. Put him on the phone.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Hand it over to your Latin Lover.”
“My what?” My voice squeaks.
“You heard me.”
“That’s not—”
“I know. I’m just messing with you. Your voice tells me everything I need to know, though. Now put him on the phone. Wait. Before I forget, if any funny business happens, kick him in the junk or go for the eyes. And scream ‘fire’ instead of ‘help’ or ‘rape.’ More people will come to check out the situation if you do that. Several studies have proven it.”
My brain struggles to process everything he’s just thrown at me. Only key phrases stand out. “What…” I sigh. “How do you even know that?”
“Have you forgotten that you weren’t the only one laid up in a hospital bed for years with nothing to do but watch National Geographic?”
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “I chose to read instead.”
“Mmhmm. And how well did those books prepare you for this situation?”
Remembering where we are, I glance back over my shoulder to find Gabriel watching me with a mysterious smile. “Listen, I don’t have time for your Finn-ness right now. I promise I’ll be safe. I’ll text you when we reach the coffee shop and when I’m leaving.”
“Okay, good, now put him on.”
Without another word, I hold out the phone for Gabriel. He arches an eyebrow in question. “He wants to speak to you.” Gabriel fights a smile, but nods and takes the phone.
I can only imagine what Finn is saying to Gabriel to cause his grunts of acknowledgement. To Gabriel’s credit, even though he’s older than Finn, he seems to be treating him with respect. I hope Finn isn’t embarrassing me any more than I’ve already embarrassed myself.
This Old Heart of Mine Page 6