Page 115 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me
“What if I want to be held to those vows?” he challenged.
Then you wouldn’t have deserted me.
“Just sign the papers. I don’t want a dime from you so that should make everything easier.” I grabbed my bag and stood, suddenly exhausted. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”
Without waiting for his response, I barrelled out the front door and flagged down a taxi. When it skidded to a stop, I dove into the back seat and yanked the door shut just as Gabriel charged out of the restaurant.
As the taxi pulled away, he threw his arms in the air and shook his head like he couldn’tbelieveI’d walk out on him.
It doesn’t feel so great, does it, Gabriel?
I wasn’t trying to punish him though. This was self-preservation.
Who would be foolish enough to risk getting their heart broken by the same man twice?
Not this girl.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Cleo
“How does he look?”
“Amazing.” Damn him. I slipped on a pair of oversized sunglasses to shield my eyes from the morning sun. Annika and I were sitting on a bench outside the cupcake place on Bleecker Street, gorging ourselves while rehashing the encounter with my estranged husband two nights ago.
“Here. Try this one.” Annika force-fed me a cupcake with pink frosting.
“Stop.” I swatted her hand away. “I can’t eat another bite. I’m going into a sugar coma.” I took a sip of my iced coffee to counteract the sweetness and groaned, slumping in my seat.
A box of half-eaten cupcakes sat between us, thanks to Annika’s insistence that we try all the flavors. The breakfast of champions.
“Just one more,” she pleaded.
I clamped my mouth shut and shook my head. “Nope. No way. Not another bite.” I gave her the side-eye. Annika looked like a Nike sportswear model in stretchy black shorts and acropped Lycra tank top. The poster girl for her new dance fitness studio. “What’s with all the cupcakes anyway?”
She licked the frosting off her fingers. “Matteo and I went on that no carbs, no sugar kick and now look at me. Mainlining refined sugar like a junkie.” She took another bite then tossed the cupcake in the box and slammed the lid shut. “I feel like I’m cheating on him.”
“For all you know, he’s across town inhaling a box of donuts.”
“Have you seen him? That man’s body is his temple. The one I worship at. So, last night, he puts on Ginuwine’s “Pony” and does this whole sexy strip show and then we?—"
I held up my hand. “Please don’t give me any more salacious play-by-plays. I’m still scarred from that sexy maid scenario.”
“You should try it. All you need is a feather duster and handcuffs?—”
“Stop sharing all your sexy times with your hunky stripper boyfriend!” I shouted, just as a middle-aged woman walked past, glaring at us while her teenage son gawked.
When they were gone, Annika and I doubled over laughing.
“Scarring young minds since 1970,” Annika said, which made us laugh even harder. “Maybe you just need some hot sex.”
“Or a mouth that comes with a filter.” I sighed. “I can’t believe I filed for divorce. That was so cold.” It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time but now, in the harsh light of day, I was seriously questioning my life choices.
Had I been too hasty? Too heartless?
“Oh, please. What did he expect? Were you just supposed to sit around and wait for him forever?”
She dumped the cake box in the garbage as we walked up Bleecker. Annika was heading to her studio, and I was meeting Jack Wells at his boutique hotel in SoHo.
