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CHAPTER 22
Loss
Gabriel
Cia didn’t come home that night and she didn’t return any of my texts messages asking where she was. Part of me figured she was just upset with me and needed a little time to recover from my harsh reaction to her outfit before she was ready to talk to me.
But Cia didn’t want to talk with me again. I realized that much when I emptied the mailbox the next day and found her phone and four thousand dollars.
Everything we had gone through together – the emotional ups and downs that had bonded us over the last month – weren’t enough after all.
I was heartbroken and blamed myself for having pushed her too far, too fast. Maybe Bruce was right when he called me an idiot and maybe Brent had been right when he said I was naïve and chose women I could fix.
For days I walked around in a vacuum trying to understand how we had gone from lovers to strangers in a flash.
Everything reminded me of Cia, and like a freaking pendulum I would swing daily from being angry with her for leaving me without any closure to being sad that I had lost the love of my life.
No other woman had made me feel like Cia did. Every girlfriend I had ever been with had wanted something from me and ended up sucking me dry, emotionally, financially, or both.
Cia was different! She didn’t have much but never asked for anything, and the way she used to look at me made me feel like fucking Super Mario. Like the time she told me I was beautiful both inside and out. I think I grew a foot from that compliment alone.
I’m far from perfect of course, but the way Cia looked up to me, admired me, respected me, and expressed how she thought herself lucky to be with me made me feel better about myself than I ever have before.
In reality it was always the other way around.
I was lucky to be with her.
So what if she didn’t have a fine college degree, a fat bank account, or a face and body like a supermodel?
Cia was the most talented painter I knew, she was smart enough to challenge complicated ideas and concepts, and brave enough to stand up to someone as intimidating as me, Bruce, or Steve. And on top of all that, she was humble and had a great sense of humor.
I had learned more from Cia in a month than I had from anyone else during the last decade, and I fucking missed her.
Sleeping in the empty apartment without her was close to impossible. I worried all night long that Cia was somewhere out on the streets. I prayed that she would be safe and that she had enough money. At the same time, I worried that she would spend the money from the art show on Oxy pills and end up in jail.
After five days I couldn’t take it any longer and decided to track her down.
?∞?
Cia
“G called again… he wants you to call him.”
I didn’t raise my head to look at Violet since I knew her eyes would be scanning mine for answers. “I know,” I said and took another spoonful of the soup. “He also told Daniel, Darren, and Bruce to tell me.”
“Are you just going to ignore him?” Violet said, and there was a critical undertone.
“Yup.”
“He’s not a bad guy, you know,” she tried to object, but we had already been over this many times and I didn’t want to go there or I would just start to cry again.
“Your brother stopped by while you were shopping,” I said to change the subject.
“Christian?” she asked.
“Do you have other brothers?”
She tore off a piece of bread and started spreading butter on it. “Yes, my oldest brother Fred, but he wouldn’t stop by.”
