And I’m done. Done spending every second of every day wondering what you’re doing. If you care or think about me still. It’s pretty obvious what the answer is, especially if you never speak to me. This situation sucks, but I never imagined you’d do this to me. Ghost me.
So, goodbye Gavin. It was my privilege to love you. And maybe one day in the future, I will get the chance again. God, I hope so. Because I will never love anyone the way I love you. If I’m honest, I don’t ever want to love anyone else. I’d rather die alone, miserable and frail.
I hope you read this and it makes your heart hurt the same as mine. I hope it makes you shed as many tears as I have. And I hope you find it in your heart to come back to me one day.
Because I will always love you. Forever.
Tu es les étoiles de ma lune.
Cora
I fold the paper into thirds and set it with the drawings as I search the house for a large envelope. When I locate one, I shove the drawings and letter inside, addressing it to Gavin and slapping on too many stamps. A minute later, I walk to the mailbox and place the envelope inside, raising the red flag.
As I walk away from the envelope, I settle into my new reality. A reality where Gavin and Cora don’t exist. A reality where love dies and hearts shatter into millions of little fragments. And a reality where nothing matters, because what is the point. What. Is. The. Point?
Thirteen
Gavin
Present
I stare off in the distance as my Range Rover is loaded into a freight box with a few boxes of my clothes inside the car. The car should arrive at Micah’s house tomorrow evening. My SUV being loaded and shipped has reality setting in. And my nerves zapping like live wires.
This is really happening. I am going home.
Gavin: Car with three boxes inside should be at your place tomorrow night.
Micah: Cool. I’ll let you know when it arrives. What time is your flight tomorrow?
Gavin: 10am, with a stop in Houston. Should be in Tampa between 7-7:30pm.
Micah: If your shit arrives before you land, want me to pick you up?
Gavin: Nah. I’ll just grab an Uber.
Micah: See you tomorrow. Tell your mom I said hi. Fly safe.
After my car is driven off, I go back in the house that no longer belongs to me and breathe deeply. In Los Angeles, houses sell faster than imaginable. At least that is what my realtor said. Regardless of the reason, I am happy to have things coming together. Call it divine intervention or luck of the draw—I don’t care—but thank god I was able to check every item off my to-do list.
Scanning the empty house, I sigh. The day I put my house on the market, I also asked every person I knew if they wanted to purchase any of my furniture. A few hours ago, the last piece—my bed—was picked up. With not much furniture in the first place, it wasn’t challenging to sell a bed with two nightstands, a couch, loveseat, coffee table, and a dining set. I had buyers lined up on the first day. In less than half a day, each piece was claimed.
Everything kept falling into place. And after each domino fell, I thanked the higher power watching over me. Because obviously someone out there wanted me to repair our broken relationship.
My phone buzzes in my palm, Mom’s name and picture flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Mom.”
“You ready, honey?”
“Yeah, I just have a couple more boxes for your garage.” Yesterday, I took over the majority of what I planned to keep. All I had left was my carry-on for the plane and two small boxes.
“Okay. I’m leaving the house now. We can grab something to eat after I pick you up. See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
Mom and I sit in silence at the dining room table with two open pizza boxes between us. Of all the things to have for dinner on my last night here, Mom suggested our favorite pizza place. Honestly, it didn’t matter what we ate. As long as we spent this time together, I was happy. And as much as I dislike California, I will miss Mom terribly.
“I wish you would come back to Florida with me,” I tell her.
She sighs before taking a bite of pizza. After she finishes chewing, she says, “Gavin, maybe I will return in the future. But for now, my place is here. Maybe I’ll feel different once you’re gone, but I won’t know until that happens.”
I nod, accepting her answer. “Just hate that you’ll be out here alone. If Dad was still alive, I’d feel different.”
“I’m not alone, Gavin. Believe it or not, I have friends. Lots of them. And we spend time with one another.” Mom points her slice of pizza at me and laughs. “Just because I’m a mother and older, doesn’t mean I forgot how to enjoy life.”
“Ha ha. Fine, I guess I believe you’ll make it without me here. But if anything changes…”
“I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
We finish eating and put the extra pizza in the fridge. Plopping down on the couch, we spend the next two hours laughing at old episodes of The Simpsons. The night is the perfect end to my time in Los Angeles. Next to my mom, laughing and spending time together.
And right then, I send a wish to the universe that Mom will want to move back to Florida soon. Because I need her just as much as I do Cora. The only women in my life that matter. The only women who keep me whole and in check. My secret request is selfish, but I don’t care. There are some things in life worth being selfish over. Like love.
We rise from the couch around ten thirty, give each other a hug, and head to our respective rooms. I kick off my shoes and tug my shirt over my head before landing on the bed. I stare at the ceiling for a while, counting the plastic, glow-in-the-dark stars I stuck to the ceiling when we first moved here. The stars were a constant reminder of Cora and the French sentiment I once told her. She truly is the stars to my moon. And she illuminates everything important in the world. Everything important to me.
And soon, very soon, I will be near her again. See her again. Breathe her in again. Touch her again. Because we haven’t reached the end of our road. Not by a long shot. Anyone who tells me otherwise is a fool.
Shortly after I turn off the lamp, I fall asleep under the same stars I did almost thirteen years ago. Stars that spark my mind to dream of the most beautiful woman. The woman I love. The woman I have to win back. No matter what it takes.
When I wake in the morning, Mom is in the kitchen cooking us breakfast. As I sit at the breakfast bar, she slides a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast in front of me. The last woman to make me breakfast was Cora. And I laugh, remembering my first taste of meatless sausage.
“What’s so funny?” Mom asks.
I share my story with her and she laughs too. So many things have changed over the years, yet one thing remains the same and true. My love for Cora. And no matter how much has changed for either of us, I will love her regardless.
Mom and I finish breakfast, then talk about my new agent and how I plan to stay with Micah until I buy a new house. I help her with the dishes and then we prepare to leave. The drive to the airport goes faster than usual. Before realization sets in, Mom and I hug at the departure drop-off. After someone honks their horn, we break apart.
“Call me when you land, please.”
“I will, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.” For a moment, I stand rooted in place and stare as her car exits the airport drop-off.
This is it. The day I have been waiting for. Today, I am going home.
One of the hardest things I have ever done is sit on my ass and do nothing. Literally, nothing. Especially when I could be out there, trying to win back the love of my life.
But somehow, Micah has convinced me to sit in his house and be patient. To bide my time. The only thing keeping me sane is searching the internet for houses. Several nice houses have sparked my attention, but none of them give me a sense of fulfillment. And I think the reason is Cora.
If I buy a new home, I want Cora to be a part of the process. To hear her opinions on the appeara
nce—inside and out. Get her input on which kitchen she likes better. If the house gets enough light or has the right number of trees. Or maybe which house she pictures us growing old in together. Which house she imagines us raising children and grandchildren in, their little feet trampling through a large back yard and playing on swings.
I slap my laptop shut and stop staring at houses. No matter what I do to occupy my time, every piece of my life always circles back to Cora. She is literally in every thought I own—awake and asleep.
Turning on the television, I search for something to watch. When I scroll through the guide and see Lord of the Rings, I laugh. If the cosmos aren’t trying to tell me something, I don’t understand what the hell is happening. One sign after another pops up. From the second I decided to mend my mistakes and our past, fortune has been on my side. And after seeing this, I vow to not spend another day sitting on this couch, bored out of my skull, doing nothing.
Just as I start watching the movie, Micah bursts through the front door. “Guess what?” he asks, a little out of breath.
“Whatever you’re dying to tell me must be good if you’re out of breath.”
Micah flips me off. “Well, I was about to give you the best news since your return yesterday, but now I think I’ll wait.” He cocks his head and smirks.
Fucker.
“Don’t be a dick. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” I frown at him for a half second, but the sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “What were you going to say?”
He stares at me a minute, tapping a finger against his lips. “A little birdie told me a specific photographer will be out and about tomorrow, taking photos.”
At his words, I fly off the couch and grab his face. Practically throttling his skull off his spine. “Where? Tell me where.” My voice frantic while my body sings.
“Ah, ah, ah. Not so fast. Tit for tat, my friend.” Micah waggles his finger in front of my face.
I drop my hands from his face. “What could I possibly do for you?” At this point, I would do just about anything to see Cora again. Sitting in this house is making me nutty.
“How about you just owe me one in the future? Deal?” Micah asks.
Definitely a deal I can’t pass up. “Deal,” I say. Micah extends his hand and we shake on it.
A minute later, Micah shares with me all the details Shelly told him about Cora’s shoot tomorrow. Shelly knows I have been back in town since yesterday, but Micah asked her to not make Cora aware. But by Shelly knowing I returned home, she and Micah have been secret go-betweens for me. Their sibling bond has never been better and I love how much they are team Gavin-and-Cora-together-again.
Later, when I try to fall asleep on the couch, I spend an hour planning how I will surprise Cora. I have it all mapped out in my head. But the hidden weight in my wallet makes me second-guess what might go down.
My only hope is she doesn’t run the opposite direction.
Fourteen
Cora
I park my car along Central Avenue, near Fifth Street. After I feed the parking meter, I walk into the nearest coffee shop and order a coconut milk latte.
After I’m slightly caffeinated, I wander for a few blocks. I take in all the sights, categorizing what would be great to photograph. Murals on select buildings. Downtown life. Restaurants and museums and shops to visit. The Sundial. The historical Vinoy hotel. Tampa Bay, from the St. Petersburg side. And that’s only downtown. I have dates scheduled to shoot other parts of the city.
Once I make it back to my car, I have over ten different sections of downtown St. Petersburg I plan to photograph. I grab my cameras from the back of my car and head toward the farthest location. As I stroll through the morning crowd, I glance over my shoulder a time or two. Every other storefront, I get this odd feeling someone is following me. Like my intuition is having a light bulb moment. But each time I check, I spot no familiar faces in the crowd.
Starting at First Street, I snap photo after photo. A restaurant here, another there. One storefront after another. Downtown has so many unique shops, it is difficult to choose what to photograph. So, I snap as many as possible. Once I go through the editing process, I will siphon out what stays and what goes.
The closer I get to my car, the more it feels as if someone is following me again. So instead of being obvious and staring up and down the street, I step inside a cafe and order a drink.
Once the young girl behind the counter hands me the drink, I sit one table away from the window and stare outside. Girlfriends flock into shops together, smiling and laughing. A man with a little girl on his shoulders walks by. Minutes pass and I recognize no one on the sidewalk, but the twinge in my gut remains.
Five steps from opening the door, I spot him. Gavin.
He stands across the street, in front of a clothing store, watching me. How long has he been there? Why wasn’t I checking across the street too? Clad in a pair of dark gray and black checkered shorts, a form-fitting black T-shirt, and dark sunglasses shielding his eyes.
I don’t need to see his eyes to know he has missed just as much sleep as me. Has been in just as much pain as I have been.
We stand staring at one another for a moment. And it isn’t until someone else leaves the cafe that I move from where I have been locked in place. As my feet shuffle toward the exit, he raises his hand and waves.
When I step onto the sidewalk, I shift to the side and move out of pedestrian foot traffic. The moment I lock eyes with Gavin again, he starts crossing the street and walking in my direction. When he crosses the double line in the center of the street, I run. And I hear him yelling and running after me.
“Cora!” Gavin screams. “Cora, wait!”
With my arms pinning the cameras to my chest, my run morphs into an awkward jog. I weave in and out of the growing crowd, spotting my car in the spaces one block away.
I will make it before he catches me.
Repeating the mantra with my eyes focused on the driver’s side door of my car, I almost jog in front of a moving car. Almost. But Gavin yanks on my bicep just in time to pull me out of the street.
“Oh my god, Cora! Are you okay?” Gavin holds me at arm’s length and inspects me head to toe. Once he determines I am unscathed and his breathing settles enough, he speaks up. “You didn’t have to run into traffic to get away from me.”
Stunned, I stare back at him. Is he really here? Is he back? For good? I shake my head, not wanting to get ahead of myself. One step at a time, Cora. No sense in getting your hopes up when you don’t have all the facts.
“I wasn’t purposely running into traffic. Just wasn’t paying attention. Sorry I scared you,” I say. Because it’s true. I would never do anything to that extreme.
Gavin bends at the waist, places his hands on his knees and breathes heavily. After a moment, his breathing regulates and he stands up straight. “Why were you running from me?” He studies the lines of my face as his bunch just above the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t know. Guess I thought it’d be better than confronting you and losing my shit. The last few weeks have been a clusterfuck. Not sure how much more I can handle,” I admit.
He nods and purses his lips before relaxing them again. “I deserve that. Can we please go somewhere and talk? There’s a lot I need to tell you. And even more wrongs I need to make right.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and teeters back on his heels as he regards me.
We silently stand on the sidewalk for a couple awkward moments while I weigh my options. If I don’t grant him time to get everything out in the open, he will continue to pursue me tomorrow and every day thereafter. Plus, I need to know where everything stands with his agent and her. And where we stand. But where we stand will depend on what he tells me.
I would like to believe I am capable of forgiving him for the lies. Because deep down, he didn’t do it with the intention of hurting me. He simply thought it was something he could resolve without issue.
Only time will tell.
&nbs
p; “Yes. Let’s find somewhere to get lunch. Then you can tell me whatever it is you need to. But I make no promises about how I’ll feel afterward.”
He nods. “I accept that. If I were you, I’d feel the same.”
Gavin and I walk to my car and I stow my cameras. A few minutes later, we stroll into the Cider Press Cafe and get seated near the window. I peek at him over my menu, waiting to see his expression as he reads the food options. As soon as his gray irises thin and pupils dilate, I laugh. At least eating here will lighten the mood as we discuss some heavy stuff. Because right now, I need a good laugh more than anything.
Fifteen
Gavin
Eleven years ago
I stand in a sea of suffocating black polyester. Bodies bump against me every five seconds, and the lack of personal space pisses me off. Who the hell organized this damn function? Whoever the fucker is, they should be fired. Because this is nothing short of chaos.
After a few minutes, we are all corralled through a doorway and led out to a spread of plastic folding chairs facing a stage. On the stage is a podium, a table, and several more folding chairs. The principal and other school staff sit on the stage chairs, their robes puffy and sashes colorful. A person stands in the aisle along the student seating, directing us to which row we’re to sit in. Not like it matters, we all have our names written on a card that we hand to someone to read.
Once we are all seated, various teachers stand at the podium and share positive words for the future. I choose to ignore their words. The only reason I agreed to do this whole ceremony bullshit is the end result I hope to receive. A trip home to Florida.
Time Exposure (Click Duet #2) (Bay Area Duet Series) Page 10
