Page 134 of Gabriel's Album

My heart throbs in my chest at her words. Hearing that she missed me makes me feel as though my shattered heart is slowly piecing itself back together. I remember that we’re meant to be platonic friends, and that I’m just here for answers, so I smile at her and let go of her hand.

She looks into my eyes, searching for something there, and I can’t stand it, so I look away and change the topic quickly to something safer.

“So, you’re a real estate agent, huh?”

“Yeah, I am,” she confirms.

“How do you like it?”

“I actually really love it.” She smiles at me, her face glowing with pride. “At first, it was just a job, something to do to earn money and to take my mind off, well, off you.”

“But then?”

“Then, I found that it was something I’m good at, and so I worked hard, got better at my job, and became one of the top agents at the agency.” Ariana’s smile widens into a full-blown grin.

“That’s pretty cool, Ari. I’m proud of you.”

I really am. She’s come a long way from being the shy, unsure woman I met at the charity event.

“Thanks.”

“How’s your writing going?”

Ariana doesn’t say anything for a few seconds before she admits, “I haven’t written anything since the day I left.”

I see the regret in her expression, and I’m saddened for her. I wonder what caused her to stop writing, but I’m pretty sure I can guess. I know that her experience with me was a large part of the story she was telling at the time.

“That’s a shame; you really have a gift for it,” I say to her.

I give her a reassuring smile, and we fall into silence again. Ariana looks out over the lake, and I simply watch her. I’ve missed her so much—every second with her feels like a gift.

Finally, she asks quietly, “Do you hate me, Gabe?”

From the look on her face, she’s as surprised by this question as I am. It’s been a long time since she’s asked it of me.

“Hate you? How could I hate you, Ari?” I shake my head, wondering how she could still think it was a possibility after all this time.

I get my answer when she comments. “That song was pretty harsh. Charlotte said that you announce it that way every night.”

“Ah, ‘Hurts Like Hell.’” I’d forgotten she was at the concert. I’d forgotten that I spent every night of the tour wishing she was hurting, and I feel terrible when she nods her confirmation. “Well, yeah, I was really angry at you for a while. Announcing it that way…I was still really angry at the start of the tour. We were in Chicago, and I said it the first night of the tour, wondering if you could possibly be in the audience to hear it. The fans loved it, though, and I wound up doing it every night. I might have been really angry in those early days, but I don’t think I ever really hated you, though.”

“You don’tthinkyou hated me?” She bites her lip.

“Love and hate are two sides of the same coin, sweetheart. I was hurting so badly, and I couldn’t love you anymore because it was tearing me apart. Hate was the feeling that got me through that burning anger.”

She chews her bottom lip and frowns at me, looking distressed at what I’m telling her.

“I don’t think this is coming out right,” I sigh. “I thought I hated you at the time, but in hindsight, I can see that I never really stopped loving you. I just couldn’t let myself feel that, so I pretended to myself that it was hate that I was feeling instead.”

“I think I understand. It’s not like you wouldn’t have had every reason to hate me anyway.” She shrugs nonchalantly.

“I’m not going to respond to that, Ari. There is no good outcome from that conversation.” I reach my arm around her shoulders and give her a hug to ease the harshness of my words.

Ariana’s breath catches, and the sound brings with it memories of our time together. Some dirty, some clean, but allcompletelyinappropriate for a man with a girlfriend. So, I quickly remove my arm again—platonic friend, here for answers.

“I’m sorry for the song,” I smile at her.

“It’s okay; it’s actually a pretty good song,” she smiles back at me.

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