“Ava, wait.”
Not looking back, I pause.
“I…” He pushes out a breath and tries again. “Tonight was…”
This time, I glance over my shoulder, focusing on his chin. “Yeah. Me, too.”
With nothing else to say, I exit the car and run toward the safety of home. I don’t look back.
Cursing my vulnerability and inexperience, I wonder how it’s possible that one person can make my heart both soar and sink. And what I’m going to do about it.
Angry rock music blares in my ears. My feet pound against the pavement, transferring my frustration. It’s been a week since my date with Gabriel. A week since that kiss. A week since I’ve heard from him. The silence has outstayed its welcome.
Over the past seven days, I’ve been hurt, confused, concerned, and angry. I’ve thought and talked the evening over a million times. And I still can’t work out what went wrong.
The trusting, optimistic side of me wants to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe his phone was stolen. Maybe he was called out of town on an emergency. Maybe something awful happened, and he’s in a hospital somewhere. Or worse.
I swerve to avoid a cyclist in my path at the last minute. Refocusing on my surroundings, the crisp morning air cools my skin and my growing temper while I run.
I may still be working out the woman I want to be, but I know one thing: she’s not someone who sits by the phone, waiting for a man to call. That’s why I’m here, exercising my troubles away instead.
My muscles tighten when I sense someone approach from behind. I catch a glimpse of toned, golden flesh out of the corner of my eyes and speed up.
“Ava. Wait.”
Pretending I can’t hear him over the music, I lengthen my stride, putting more space and silence between us. He mutters something I don’t catch before the sound of heavy footsteps grows louder. I continue to run for several yards. When I still don’t acknowledge his presence, Gabriel reaches out and holds onto my elbow, bringing me to a stop.
Putting on my best scowl, I yank my arm out of his grip. I ignore the hazy warmth at how much this resembles our first encounter. This isn’t nostalgia; it’s the worst kind of déjà-vu.
“What?” I ask, trying to steady my breathing.
His expression is contrite as he takes my earphones out. “I want to talk to you. To apologize.”
I cross my arms and set my jaw. “What do you need to apologize for?”
“For the way our date ended. And for my silence since.” He looks away. “This past week has been tough for me.”
My façade cracks. Unfolding my arms, I step toward him and soften my voice. “Were you okay? Did something happen?”
He turns back to me, a gentle look entering his eyes. “No.”
I try to regain my annoyance, but can’t. In its absence, sadness and confusion reappear. So much confusion, I can feel the onset of a headache.
“I just needed some time,” he continues.
“Time?”
“To work things out.”
I frown. “What’s there to work out?”
He hesitates, looking out at the park before inhaling and looking back at me. “I like you, Ava. More than I should. You’re… changing things. You’re changing me.” His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s speaking to himself.
“How am I changing things?” I ask. I thought he was changing for the better, but looking at his troubled expression, I’m not sure he agrees.
Gabriel shoves his hair away from his face and starts to pace. “You make me see life differently and act my age.” Blinking hard, he looks bewildered. I almost feel sorry for him.
“Aren’t those good things?”
“They are.”
I massage my forehead. “So why are you running from them? From me?”
His lips tighten. “Not everyone is as optimistic as you, Ava.”
“What do you mean?” I cock my head.
“For some people, it’s the light they fear, not the dark.”
“But why? That makes no sense.”
His hands flex by his side. “Sometimes it’s better to have no light at all than to have it and lose it.”
“Oh.” I take a moment to think about his confession. I understand his logic, but it makes me sad. We’re at a crossroads. Either I keep trying to pull Gabriel in my direction, or I leave him to travel down his dark path alone.
Already knowing my choice, I sigh. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised your glass is half-empty, but I think you’re wrong. The whole point of the glass is that it can be refilled. Isn’t it better to feel the sunshine on your face, even for an hour?” I smile up at the early morning sky to make my point.
“I’m starting to think that might be true.” I look back down to find Gabriel’s eyes fixed on me.
“Of course it’s true, I’m a genius,” I steal Finn’s catchphrase, making Gabriel laugh. I hate how much the rich sound affects me, and how happy I am to hear it.
“So are you going to refill that empty glass of yours?” I tease, dissolving the last of the tension in the air.
Pushing his hands into the pockets of his running shorts, he looks up at me and smiles. “Will you show me how?” he asks, a faint whisper of vulnerability in his voice.
“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”
His smile vanishes. “I don’t want to be your friend, Ava.”
“Gabriel…”
“Please, listen. I know I messed up by not calling, but I’ve had time to think about it and I want the light. I want to keep feeling the way I do when I’m with you.”
I shake my head. “That’s just the problem. I never know how you’re feeling. One minute, I think I do, and then the next, your mood changes without warning. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can. You’re just too confusing. I’m already busy trying to work out myself. That’s enough of a head trip.”
He reaches for my hand and bends to look me in the eyes. “Ava, please. Give me another chance. There’s something here, something between us. Tell me you feel it, too.”
“I do,” I whisper, glancing at the ground.
“Then please, let me make it up to you. Let me show you who I am.”
“How?”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ll find a way.”
“I have an idea,” I tell him as it begins to form and take shape in my mind.
“You do?”
Thinking about it, my smile grows until my cheeks start to hurt. “Yep. It will give me a chance to see who you really are, and hopefully you’ll get something positive out of it, too.”
Slipping his fingers through mine, he steps closer to me and brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face. “Anything. Whatever it takes for you to give me a second chance. Show me the sun.”
“Show me you.”
The walls are so bright, my eyes are hurting. Breathing in the familiar, nauseating smell, memories flood my mind. I glance up at a pale Gabriel as we walk down the corridor, taking in his rigid posture and clenched hands.
“Not a fan of hospitals?”
“No.”
“Believe me, I get it. I don’t think anyone is.” I thread my hand through his arm. “Don’t worry. I promise where we’re going is much brighter.”
Looking down at me, some focus returns to his eyes. A tiny smile cracks through his stony face. “Brighter than here?”
I laugh. “Right? I was just thinking I needed sunglasses. No, where we’re going is less bright, more colorful. Color is what this place is lacking.”
“The décor is the least of the problems.”
“True.” The air is cloyed with smell of death and pain. Turning the corner, I release a breath. “We’re here.” I press the buzzer and lead us into another world. The change is immediate. Not just in scenery, but in Gabriel. His face eases into an almost-smile as he takes in all the photographs and pictures. I’m filled with the feeling of home. His bunched bicep relaxes beneath my ha
nd.
I walk us over to the counter. “Hi, Jenny.”
“Ava! So lovely to see you. And who’s this?” She curls her hair behind her ear, revealing reddened cheeks.
“This is my friend, Gabriel. Is it okay if he joins me today?”
“Sure. The more the merrier. We’ll just need to get some information and scan your ID if that’s okay, sir? You also won’t be allowed to be left unattended.”
“That’s fine. I understand. And please, call me Gabriel.”
She titters, batting her eyelashes. “Okay, Gabriel. I’m Jenny, but you can call me Jen. Follow me and we’ll get you signed in.”
After registering with Jenny-call-me-Jen, and greeting some familiar faces, I begin my usual route. Gabriel stays close behind me. I knock on the first door and enter at the sound of the voice on the other side.
“Ava!”
Pushing down the tears that spring up, I smile. “Wow, look at you. Look how handsome you are.”
Timmy’s little chest puffs up from the compliment. “Thanks. Mommy says it makes me look all-grown up.”
“She’s right. I barely recognized you. You’ll be driving a car soon, at this rate.”
He sits up straighter, beaming at me. Walking further into the room, I don’t look back at Gabriel. I can’t. Otherwise, I’ll lose it. And right now, I need to be strong.
I head over to Timmy’s bed and run a hand over his new smooth head. Bending down, I press a gentle kiss against it. “You look beautiful,” I whisper, wincing when my voice cracks.
I’m thankful he doesn’t seem to hear it. His tiny nose crinkles. “You mean handsome, right?”
While I laugh, I’m able to risk a glance at Gabriel. The tenderness in his eyes is almost my undoing. Instead, I focus on the traces of humor I can also see there. “Of course. Sorry. My mistake.”
“That’s okay. I forgive you.”
Gabriel and Timmy’s parents, Amber and Sam, all snicker. “Thanks, Timmy.”
Walking over to Amber, I pull her into my arms and kiss her cheek. I close my eyes when she clutches onto me.
“How are you doing?” I whisper. The single shake of her head is all the answer I need. I kiss the side of her head again, before releasing her. We both know the show we need to put on right now. The time for falling apart is later. Greeting Sam in a similar way, I pull back and introduce Gabriel.
“Sorry everyone, where are my manners? This is my good friend, Gabriel. He’s helping me out here today. Is it okay if he joins in our chat?”
Timmy’s parents welcome Gabriel warmly. They are such kind, generous people. Ones who should never know the inside of a hospital room.
I turn to find Timmy watching Gabriel with a curious expression. “Is it all right if Gabriel sits in and gets to know you a bit better, Tim?” I ask.
“Sure.”
Clearing his throat, Gabriel walks over and extends his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim.”
“Hi.” Timmy’s voice is quiet and shy. The sight of his tiny, pale hand swallowed by Gabriel’s as they shake makes me smile.
“Is he your boyfriend?” Timmy asks me in a stage whisper.
My cheeks heat. I hold up a hand at Amber’s gentle chastisement. “You are so nosy, mister,” I say, tapping him on the nose and making him giggle. “And to answer your question, no, Gabriel is just my friend.” Lifting my eyes, the man himself seems like he doesn’t agree with my statement, but he doesn’t contradict me in front of little ears.
“Good.” Timmy leans over and pulls out a yellow sunflower from the vase by his bed. He holds it out to me. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Timmy scowls at the laughter and noises of endearment made by the adults in the room. I don’t join in, not wanting to offend him. Taking the flower, I kiss it and clutch it to my chest before placing it behind my ear.
“Thanks so much for the flower. It’s beautiful.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome.”
“Any girl would be lucky to be your girlfriend, Tim, but I think I might be a bit too old for you. It wouldn’t be fair to all the other girls your age who would love the chance. With your handsome new haircut, I’m sure they’ll be lining up.”
His cheeky dimpled grin reveals what a heartbreaker he’s going to be when he grows up, if he gets the chance to grow up. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m too young to settle down.”
I swallow my laughter. “Exactly.”
He winks, reminding me of Finn, who he loves. “No matter how many girlfriends I get, you’ll always be my favorite grown up lady, Ava.”
This kid. Now I set my amusement free. “Thanks, Timmy.”
I perch on the end of his bed, pulling out a chair for Gabriel to sit down.
“So, how are you feeling, mister?” I bring us all back to painful reality.
“Good. I have my third round of chemo later.”
Gabriel squeezes my knee in a crushing grip. I put my hand over his. I’m not sure which of us needs the support more.
Struggling for composure, I stroke Timmy’s bald head. “I know. You’re incredibly brave as well as incredibly handsome.”
“You’re a real hero, Tim.” Gabriel’s voice is gruff, but Timmy brightens under the praise.
“You think? Like Superman?”
Gabriel shakes his head. “Much better than Superman. As brave and strong as all the superheroes combined.”
Timmy’s eyes light up like fireworks. He flexes his non-existent biceps. “Look, I’m really strong.”
Gabriel grins, leaning forward to squeeze them. “I can see that. I’m jealous of your muscles.”
Timmy’s childish giggle rings through the room, travelling straight to my heart. “Want to arm wrestle?”
I look at Gabriel, wondering how he’s going to react. Amber and Sam watch on, mouths smiling but eyes wet.
As ever, Gabriel is full of surprises. Unbuttoning his shirtsleeve, he rolls it up and moves his chair closer to the bed. “Sure. But go easy on me, okay? We’re not all as strong as you.”
Timmy laughs. “Or as handsome.”
Two hours later, and we’re at my final stop for the day. Gabriel has been incredible with the kids. He left each of them with an even bigger smile than they had when we entered, which is always the goal.
I had no idea he was so great with children. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make him even more attractive. Seeing him tell them hilarious jokes and stories has inched him even further into my heart.
Right now, he’s making one of my favorite patients, Isabella, fall under his spell. He seems equally drawn to her, more so than any of the other kids we’ve visited today. With her big bifocal glasses, radiant gap-toothed smile, and adorable pigtails, it’s easy to see why the three-year-old has him so enraptured.
Her high-pitched laughter brings me out of my thoughts. “Mr. Gabwiel! You’re making my tummy hurt with giggles.”
“Sorry, Isabella.”
“It’s okay. It’s a good kind of hurt. Not the bad kind that you have to go to the hospital for.” Gabriel’s eyes stop smiling at her words. “Hey, Mr. Gabwiel?”
“Yes, Señorita Isabella?”
She giggles at the nickname. “Wanna see something cool?”
“Sure.”
She pulls back the thin bed sheet. “Ta-da!” She claps.
To Gabriel’s credit, he hides his reaction from her well. But I see it in the rise of his chest and fall of his brows.
“Cool, huh?” she asks.
“Very.”
“My leg got cut off when I was a baby. Cause I have dia-bee-bees. That’s why I’m in hospital now.”
Gabriel’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows several times before speaking. “I like your nail polish,” he says, referring to the blue sparkles painted onto the end of her tiny prosthetic foot.
“Thanks. Mommy did it for me. It matches my other foot, see?” She pulls back the covers further, wiggling her toes. She shrieks with laughter and writhes on the bed when
Gabriel squeezes each of her five toes in turn, before doing the same for her plastic foot.
Next to me, Isabella’s mom, Rose, chuckles at her daughter’s delight. If I could bottle that infectious laugh and bring it out during tough times, I would.
Sitting up, Isabella blows a loose ringlet out of her face and looks at me. “Hey, Miss Ava, guess what?”
I smile. “What, Miss Isabella?”
“When I’m big like you, I’m gonna be Pwesident.”
“You are, huh?”
“Yep.”
“You’re going to make a great President.”
“Thanks. I’m also gonna be a wacing car dwiva, and a zoo keepa, and an awfa.”
“An awfa?”
She giggles, finding my confusion hilarious. “You know, like books.” She holds up the children’s book on the pillow next to her in case I didn’t know what one was.
“Ah, I see. An author. You want to write books?”
“Yep. Ones that make all the sick kids in the hospital like me happy.”
I push past the massive lump in my throat. “That’s a lovely idea, sweetheart. Gabriel is also a writer, you know.”
She gasps, as if I’ve just told her he’s a dinosaur. “You are?” she asks him. Her pupils dilate to the size of saucers.
“Yes. I’m a poet.”
“A piwate?”
“No. Not a pirate. A poet.”
“What’s a…a…”
“Poet. It’s someone who tells stories, like an author. Only the stories come from your heart, instead of your head.” He touches the spots in question on his body. I wondered how he was going to explain such a difficult concept, but I needn’t have worried. If the smile Rose is wearing is anything to go by, she agrees.
“I wanna be a poet, too,” Isabella announces with a decisive nod.
“You can still be an author and be a poet,” Gabriel tells her with a tender smile. “Just remember to write your stories from the heart.”
“Okay. Mr. Gabwiel?”
“Yes, Señorita Isabella?”
“Will you wead me a storwy, pwease?” She hands him the book and snuggles closer until she’s burrowed into his chest. He looks up at Rose. A soft sheen covers his eyes at her encouraging nod.
This Old Heart of Mine Page 10
