Page 85 of One Short Summer

My song starts—the same song I played when Gabe saw me dance for the first time at Kiara’s studio—and I leave my heart onstage. My hands, arms, legs, and feet all know precisely what to do. It almost feels like someone else is taking over, and I’m watching it all from the sidelines.

The song is about losing someone you love, and I feel every single inch of it. The portrayal of heartache is so real, I can feel hot tears burn in the backs of my eyes.

When the music slowly fades away, I collapse onto the floor, ending my performance to a loud roar of thundering applause.

Somehow, I make it through the curtain call before storming off the stage as quickly as possible, wading through crowds of people that suddenly seem to be everywhere in the underground tunnels. The slightest hint of relief washes over my body when I’m finally back in my dressing room, successfully closing myself back into solitude.

I stiffen when I notice a big vase full of flowers on the dresser. When I make my way over to take a look at the card, my hands shake almost uncontrollably.

There, in neat handwriting I’d recognize anywhere, it says:

You’re going to kill it, Princess. All my love, Gabe.

All the feelings I’ve tried to at least put on a simmer to get through this solo performance tonight suddenly burst to the surface, and I’m incapable of holding back the tears any longer.

Talk about a roller-coaster ride of feelings.

When I raise my gaze to the mirror to confirm my suspicion that I indeed look like a hot mess, there’s a knock at the door.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Gabe

I’m aboutto knock again when I hear a noise from behind the door. After looking left and right in the hallway, I take the chance someone might see me with my ear pressed to the door and think I’m a creep.

And yes, I didn’t imagine it. There it is again. It sounds like...like someone’s crying?

The thought of Monica being hurt in any way makes my shoulders tighten uncomfortably while my heartbeat races so fast, I feel like my whole chest might explode at any moment.

Indecision floods me as I contemplate what to do. I want to barge in, no questions asked, but what if it’s someone else, or I walk in on something? I mentally battle back and forth for a minute and decide to knock one more time before barreling my way in.

Pressing my ear to the door again, I rap my fist on it. “Monica?”

The noise stills. “Gabe?”

Her voice is faint, and I’m straining to hear her.

There’s some commotion inside the room, and a moment later, the door opens a little. Monica peeks through the small gap, her red and slightly swollen eyes wide when they land on me. “What...what areyoudoing here?”

“Surprise?” The word comes out as a question while I scan the little I can see of her, to make sure she’s all right. “Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“You’re really here?” She completely disregards my questions, and for a moment, I get nervous she might not want me here.

Without warning, she pulls the door open the rest of the way in one big swing and throws herself at me. I barely have enough time to react while she clings to me as if her life depended on it, her arms and legs tightly winding around my neck and waist. I have to be quick, and steady myself on the doorframe to keep us from toppling over.

For a moment, I don’t care what’s going on because this just feels so fucking good, having her back in my arms. With her face pressed into my neck, I feel little tremors vibrate through her body as she starts to cry again.

I carefully walk us into the room and close the door behind me. Thankfully, there’s a couch along one wall, and I’m able to get us there in one piece, letting myself fall onto the black cushions that protest only a little under our combined weight.

Once we’re safely on the couch, I let go of her, my hands automatically going to her back, gently rubbing up and down. “Hush, sweetie. What’s going on? You’re starting to worry me. Why are you crying like this? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

The questions keep bubbling out of my mouth, and it takes another minute or two before she calms down enough to look at me. My hands go up to her face, wiping away the tears with my thumbs. She sniffs a few more times, and I keep my hands on her cheeks, wanting to comfort her somehow.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She lets out a long breath, her eyes roaming over my face.

“Of course I am. Wouldn’t have missed the premiere for anything in the world.” I drop my hands to her shoulders, sliding them down her arms before squeezing her hands gently. “Wanna tell me what’s going on, please?”

A little sob escapes her mouth, and her lower lip trembles the tiniest bit. “You brought me flowers.”

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