Just yesterday a delivery person had brought in a huge arrangement of flowers to La Patisserie and embarrassed her in front of everyone by reading the note out loud.
Forgive me. I can’t live without you.
–Gabe
Today another delivery person had brought in a box with a pair of fur-lined leather gloves and a note card that read:
To keep your hands warm on the walk home.
–Gabe
Louisa and Greg were amused—thank God they weren’t pissed—and it had become a running joke with the regulars at La Patisserie as to what would be delivered next.
The weather had cleared up, but the cold had remained. The skies were bright blue without a cloud in sight and the wind blew gusty, a knife through her coat. She was grateful for the gloves as she navigated the sidewalks back to her apartment. Dusk was descending, each day growing shorter and shorter.
As she rounded the corner to walk the last block to her apartment, an electronic billboard atop a hotel caught her eye. How could it not?
In big, neon letters, flashing across the screen was:
I LOVE YOU, MIA. COME HOME.
GABE.
Tears pricked her eyelids. What was she supposed to do? He’d never said he loved her. Was it emotional manipulation for him to air his feelings to the world? And to put it on this billboard, by her apartment, where she couldn’t possibly miss the meaning? Come home. Not to her apartment. But to him.
It was driving her crazy. He was driving her crazy. And yet he hadn’t attempted to confront her directly again. Not since the last time when she’d told him to leave her alone. But he was still there. In her face. Always reminding her of his presence.
She was utterly baffled by this side of Gabe. It was a side he’d never allowed her to see—anyone to see.
She went into her apartment, exhausted and miserable. She was convinced she was coming down with something, but she wasn’t sure if it was true illness or whether it was merely a product of too many sleepless nights and her emotional devastation.
By the next morning, she couldn’t deny that she was truly ill. She walked to work and went through the motions mechanically. By the afternoon, Louisa and Greg both were eyeing her with concern, and when she dumped an entire pot of coffee onto the floor, Louisa called her into the back.
She took Mia’s arm and then put her hand to her forehead.
“Good God, Mia, you’re burning up with fever. Why didn’t you say anything? You can’t work like this. Go home and go to bed.”
Mia didn’t even offer an argument. Thank God it was Friday and she wasn’t scheduled to work this weekend. An entire weekend in bed sounded next to heaven. And then she wouldn’t be subjected to whatever Gabe had delivered for the day. She could hide from him and the world and try to sort out this whole mess.
She couldn’t take it anymore. It was a gigantic weight pressing down on her.
She had every intention of taking a cab home, unable to bear the walk in her current state. But as she checked her watch, she groaned. Getting a cab at this hour would be next to impossible. They were all going off duty.
Sighing in resignation, she began the long walk home, cold settling into her bones. She was shaking, her teeth chattering, and the sidewalk blurred in her vision.
It took her twice as long as it normally did, and when she rounded the block and saw that damn billboard, she sighed in relief because it wasn’t far now.
Someone bumped into her and she lost her balance. She nearly caught herself, but then she was bumped from the other side, and she slid to her knees, tears welling. She didn’t even have the strength to get up and she was so close to her apartment.
She buried her face in her hands and let the tears escape.
“Mia? What the hell? Are you all right?”
Gabe. God, it was Gabe. His arm came around her, urging her to her feet.
“Good God, baby, what’s wrong?” he demanded. “Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?”
“Sick,” she croaked out amid another storm of tears.
Her head hurt, her throat was on fire, and she was so cold and tired that she couldn’t bear the thought of walking another step.
Gabe cursed and then he swung her into his arms and strode rapidly toward her apartment building.
“I don’t want to hear one goddamn word, you understand? You’re sick and you need someone to take care of you. Jesus. What if I hadn’t been here? What if you’d collapsed on the damn sidewalk and no one was around to help you?”
She didn’t say anything and instead buried her head against his shoulder, inhaling his scent. His warmth seeped into her skin, soothing all her aches. God, it had been so long. She hadn’t been warm since he’d left her. Or she’d left him. It didn’t matter, because the end result was that she was alone.