Gabriel puts his coat over the back of the chair and sits while I make two cups of coffee. I pour cream into his and realize I don’t even have to think about it, as if we’re still together. Julian takes his black.
Setting both cups on the table, I take a seat, still feeling nervous about letting him come in. I know Julian wouldn’t like it. “We said our goodbyes already. You shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what you thought it would accomplish.”
He looks at me for a long time. “I was worried. The last time we spoke, you sounded so different. You don’t look happy, Addy.”
I flinch, hearing his old nickname for me. I’m not Addy anymore.
“My name is Cassandra,” I say defiantly.
“It’s just . . . your being here. It feels all wrong to me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and index finger and close my eyes.
“Are you happy? Is this really where you want to be?” Gabriel pushes.
I drop my hand. “I’m happy to finally know who I am and to have found my family. You have to listen to me. My memory is coming back more and more. I married Julian because I was in love. I love my daughter. Yes, there are adjustments, and yes, some things are hard. But listen to me, Gabriel. This is my home and where I belong. I loved you, and I’m sorry I hurt you, but you have to accept that you are no longer part of my life, and I am no longer part of yours. It’s time for you to move on.”
Gabriel looks like I’ve just punched him in the stomach, but he has to see that it’s futile to believe that I will come back to him.
He eyes travel around the room, then come to rest on the row of medicine bottles lined up on the shelf next to the kitchen sink. He stands and walks over, picking up one and then the next, reading the labels. He shakes his head. “What are all these?”
I sigh. “Some things to help me with my anxiety and depression.”
He frowns. “Since when are you depressed and anxious? This looks like some heavy-duty stuff. I knew you weren’t happy here.”
My face is hot, and anger surges through me. How dare he come here and judge me? I stand up. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. How hard it’s been for me to be a blank slate. So now that I’m having to relive some painful things in my past, the meds are there to help me. I want you to leave. This discussion is over.”
He puts the bottle down and looks at me. “I guess I made a mistake in coming here. I’m sorry.” He takes his coat in his hands, and together we walk to the front hall.
With his hand on the door handle, he turns and looks at me one last time. “I’ll always love you, Addy. You can reach out to me anytime if you need me.”
Before I can say anything, he is out the door, striding quickly to his car, and a feeling of sadness rests heavy on me. “I love you too,” I whisper when he is out of earshot, and realize that it’s still true. I love him, and I love Julian. But my life is here, and I also know that in time I will remember more of my life with Julian, and Gabriel will be nothing more than a distant memory.
??45??
Cassandra
“Mommy, Mommy, did you hear me?”
I look down at Valentina, who’s tugging on my shirt.
“Sorry, sweetie. What is it?”
“I’m hungry. You said you’d make me breakfast.”
I’ve been even more distracted since Gabriel’s visit yesterday, replaying our conversation over and over in my mind, hoping I’ve convinced him that it’s really over. I don’t want Julian to know that he came here. It would serve no purpose except to upset him, especially if he knew how hard it was for me to push Gabriel away. Julian is doing so much to help me and care for me; the last thing I want is to hurt him.
I cut some banana and apple for her cereal and sit down across the table from her.
“Sorry, sweetie. What did you say?”
I try to focus as she talks, but my mind continues to wander.
“What are you going to read to my class next week?” she asks.
I snap to attention. What is she talking about? “Next week?”
“It’s your turn to read. Remember?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” I have no recollection of this. “What time again?”
She shrugs.
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out,” I tell her. I’ll call one of the other moms and get the details. She finishes her breakfast and goes back to her bedroom to get dressed. I go upstairs and pull out my journal. Nothing about the class reading. I’ve been writing things down—everything I do, where I’ve put things, details or stories that Julian and Valentina have told me. I can’t let Julian know how much I’m slipping, so I keep the journal in the guest-room closet, hidden beneath a pair of old boots in a shoebox from my Philadelphia days. I must have forgotten about going to Valentina’s class next week. I feel sick. I still haven’t found the watch Gigi gave me, but I did find the book Valentina made for me. When I took the recycling from the kitchen out to the garage, it was sitting in the large bin, folded in half. I grabbed it and took it to the kitchen, wrapped it in a tea towel, and hurried to the bedroom with it, putting it safely into a bottom dresser drawer under a pile of folded clothing. I don’t know how it got into the bin, but I can’t tell Julian. What would he think?