Her Gabriel had remembered her. Her Gabriel had finally returned.
“Beatrice,” his arm tightened around her waist as he moved to whisper against her hair, still damp from the shower. “Don’t cry.” With his brilliant blue eyes closed, Gabriel pressed his lips to her forehead, once, twice, thrice.
“I missed you. So much,” she whispered, her lips moving against his tattoo.
“You found me,” he murmured. “I should have waited. I love you.”
Now Julia wept harder, clinging to him as if she were drowning and he was her savior. She kissed the skin of his chest lightly and ran her fingers up and down his abdomen.
In response, Gabriel’s fingertips traced the goose-pimpled flesh of her arms before slipping under the loose fabric of her T-shirt. He feathered his fingers across her skin until his hand finally stilled against her lower back. He sighed deeply and seemed to pass into his dreamland once again.
“I love you, Gabriel. So much it hurts,” she said, her hand coming to rest over his gently beating heart. She whispered Dante’s own words back to him, somewhat changed:
Love hath so long possess’d me for his own
And made his lordship so familiar
That he, who at first irk’d me, is now grown
Unto my heart as its best secrets are.
And thus, when he in such sore wise doth mar
My life that all its strength seems gone from it.
Mine inmost being then feels thoroughly quit
Of anguish, and all evil keeps afar.
Love also gathers to such power in me
That my sighs speak, each one a grievous thing.
Always soliciting
My Gabriel’s salutation piteously.
Whenever he beholds me, it is so,
Who is more sweet than any words can show.
When all her tears were dry, Julia placed a few tentative kisses against Gabriel’s stilled, soft lips and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep in the arms of her beloved.
***
When she awoke, it was shortly past seven in the morning. Gabriel was still sound asleep. In fact, he was snoring, and from the looks of it neither of them had moved all night. It was probably the most peaceful sleep she’d ever had, but one.
She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to be separated from him, not by one inch. She wanted to lie in his arms forever and pretend as if they had never been apart.
He recognized me. He loves me. Finally.
She had never felt loved before. Not really. Oh he had mumbled it, and her mother had shouted it but only when drunk, so the words never entered Julia’s consciousness. Or heart. She never believed them because their actions had showed their words to be false. But she believed Gabriel.
So on this morning, the first morning ever, Julia felt loved. She smiled so widely she thought her face would break. She pressed her lips to Gabriel’s neck and nuzzled against his stubbled skin. He moaned softly and his arm tightened against her, but his regular and deep breathing told her that he was still very much asleep.
Julia had enough experience with alcoholics to know that Gabriel would be hungover and probably cranky when he woke up. So she wasn’t in a hurry to wake him. She was silently grateful that last night, at least, Gabriel had been a harmless, flirtatious drunk. That kind of drunk she could handle. It was the other kind that frightened her.
She spent about an hour drinking in his scent and his warmth, reveling in their closeness, skimming her hands tentatively over his upper body. Apart from the evening she spent with him in the woods, these moments were the happiest of her life. But eventually, she had to get up.
She stealthily crawled out from under his arm and padded to the master bathroom, closing the door behind her. She noticed a bottle of Aramis cologne sitting on his vanity. She picked it up, opened it, and sniffed. It wasn’t the scent that she remembered from the orchard. His scent then had been more natural, wilder even.
This is the new scent of Gabriel. And just like him—it’s breathtaking. And now he’s mine…
She brushed her teeth, twisted her now curly hair up into a messy knot, and walked into the kitchen to find a rubber band or a pencil with which to hold it. Her hair thus affixed, she floated into the laundry room and transferred the clean but damp clothes to the dryer. She couldn’t go home until her clothes were dry. But she had no intention of leaving now that he remembered her.
What about Paulina? Or m.a.i.a.? Julia pushed those questions aside, simply because they were irrelevant. Gabriel loved her. Of course, he would let Paulina go.
What about the fact that he’s my Professor? And what if he’s an alcoholic?