“I wasn’t calling you a whore this morning. I swear. It was a terrible comparison, and I never should have said it, but I wasn’t calling you a whore. I was objecting to seeing you on your knees. It really…upsets me. Every time. You should be worshipped and adored and treated with dignity. Never on your knees. Never on your knees, Julia, for anyone. No matter what you think of me, that’s the truth.
“I should have apologized immediately for what Paulina said to you. I just finished setting her straight, and I want to pass on her apology. She’s sorry. She and I have a…um…(cough)…it’s complicated. You can probably imagine why she jumped to that conclusion, and it has to do only with me and my previous—ah—behavior, and nothing to do with you. I’m really sorry she insulted you. It won’t happen again, I promise.
“Thank you for making me breakfast this morning. Um…[very long pause] seeing the tray you prepared really did something to me. I can’t put it into words. Julia, no one has ever done anything like that for me before. No one. Not Grace, not a friend, not a lover, no one. I…you’ve been nothing but good and kind and giving. And I’ve been nothing but selfish and cruel. [Clears throat…]
[Voice is husky now.] “Please, Julia, we need to talk about your note. I am holding your note in the palm of my hand, and I’m not going to let it go. But there are some things I need to explain to you, serious things, and I’m not comfortable doing that over the phone. I’m sorry for what happened this morning. It’s all my fault, and I want to fix it. Please tell me how to fix this, and I’ll fix it. Call me.”
Once again, Julia deleted his message, and once again, she made no attempt to save his number. She turned her phone off, placed it with her laptop on her card table, and went back to bed, trying to put Gabriel’s sad and tortured voice out of her mind.
The next day and the day after that, Julia didn’t leave her apartment. In fact, she spent all her time in various flannel pajama sets, trying to distract herself with loud music and a series of well-worn paperbacks by Alexander McCall Smith. His Edinburgh stories were her favorite because they were cheerful, slightly mysterious, and smart. She found his writing comforting and more than soothing to her soul. The stories tended to make her hungry for Scottish things like porridge and Walker’s shortbread and Isle of Mull cheddar (not necessarily in that order).
Although she had had a truly scarring experience with Gabriel, hard on the heels of spending the night in his arms, she was more determined than ever that she would not let him break her. She’d been broken before; he had broken her. And she’d sworn in her heart that she would never allow her spirit to be broken again. By anyone.
So she made the following three decisions:
First, she was not going to drop Emerson’s class, because she needed a Dante seminar to demonstrate her competency.
Second, she was not going to quit school and return to Selinsgrove a coward.
Third, she was going to find herself another thesis director and file the paperwork behind Emerson’s back, as soon as possible.
Near midnight Tuesday, she finally turned her cell phone on to check her messages. Once again, her inbox was full. She rolled her eyes when she discovered, not surprisingly, that the first message was from Gabriel. It had arrived Monday morning.
“Julianne…I left something for you last night on your front porch. Did you see it? Did you read the card? Please read it.
“By the way, I had to call Paul Norris in order to get your cell phone number. I made up some excuse about needing to speak with you about your thesis, in case he asks you about it.
“Did you know that you forgot your iPod? I’ve been listening to it. I was surprised to find that you are a fan of Arcade Fire. I’ve been listening to Intervention, although I’m more than surprised that someone as well-adjusted and happy as you would listen to such a tragic song. I’d like to be able to return your iPod in person.
“I’d like you to talk to me. Scream at me. Curse me. Throw things in my face. Anything but silence, Julianne. Please. [Large sigh…] Just a few moments of your time, that’s all I ask. Call me.”
Julia deleted his message and promptly walked herself and her Scottish tartan flannel pajamas out to the front porch. She picked up the card that was attached to the bouquet, ripped it into a hundred pieces, and threw the pieces over the railing and into the grass. She picked up the now withered purple hyacinths and threw them over the railing too. Then she inhaled the cold night air deeply and ran back inside, slamming the front door behind her.
Once she’d calmed down, she listened to the next message, which was also from Gabriel. He’d called her that afternoon,