“I know,” he replies.
My eyes shoot up in question.
“I didn’t mean…”
“No, no, please go on. This is a private conversation; I would never tell him what we talk about if you agree to never tell him that I know he didn’t cook last night.”
He chuckles.
“You’ve been with him a long time?”
“Nine years.”
“I bet you’ve seen a lot in that time.”
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Just that…Gabriel’s a creature of habit, not much has changed with him at all…that is, until the last seven weeks.”
“Since he came here, you mean?”
He nods.
“I guess it was very different when he was going to marry Ariana too.”
“No, not at all.” He goes to open his mouth and then stops himself from saying something.
“What?”
“It’s not my place to say.”
“No, please. Say it. Your perspective would be very helpful; you know him better than anyone. Lord knows I need some help working this all out.”
“I just…I don’t believe he was ever going to marry Ariana.”
“Why not?”
He frowns as he looks over the pool. “I’m not sure how much he’s told you about…” His voice trails off.
“About what?”
“About the period of time after you and he were together in New York?”
“When he broke my heart?”
“When he broke his.”
My eyes flick to him. “What do you mean?”
“He was never the same after you left.”
“I wish I could believe you.” I sigh.
He sips his coffee. “Have you ever wondered why he came looking for you?”
My eyes hold his.