IM5 Preference #36 "It's Been a While"

4. Gabe

 “Is that how you want it?! Is that what you want, then?! Huh?!”

There’s no peace anymore, you’re always fighting, always yelling, never happy. It seems like every little thing has you at each other’s throats, and you just can’t stand it. You take a step back and look at him, really look at him, not just the pieced-together façade, but the dark circles under his eyes, the redness around his eyes, the tiredness in his demeanor. He’s not the Gabe you once knew and loved.

He drops his voice, “Why can’t you trust me anymore?”

“It’s pretty hard to trust a stranger.”

“But I’m not—”

“But you are, you are now. I hardly ever see you, you’re always in the studio or out God knows where, you never call, you never let me know where you are or where you’re going, nothing. Nothing at all, you could be hurt or dead for all I know!”

“Well I guess being with you has changed me.”

“Yeah, I guess it has.”

And just like that, it’s all gone. Something that was built up for nearly five years is shattered in seconds and thrown away. Your things are packed in the blink of an eye and you’re back where you were before you moved in with Gabe last year, a small apartment downtown. You knock on the door, knowing they’re home, your two best friends, who you can count on for anything, Gabrielle and Martina, or Gabby and Marti, and they’re probably watching chick flicks and eating microwaved popcorn.

Gabby opens the door, confused, “Hey?” But her confusion quickly turns to concern when she sees the way your entire body is shaking. “Come in!” She grabs your arm and pulls you inside as Marti strides over, “What’s wrong?”

And so you tell them everything, hold nothing back, don’t worry about being judged, just tell the full truth. Tell them how the better of almost five of your golden years are now gone. Tell them how you’re going to be a single mother at the age of twenty-four, tell them he’s out of your life just like…that.

*             *             *             *             *

And the time flies when you’re busy working hard to support a small family all on your own. Before you know it, thirteen more years are gone. All this time, you’ve tried to be the most responsible adult you can be, you’ve done everything you can to provide for your daughter the things she needs to be healthy and happy. And, for the most part, you’ve succeeded. Your daughter, Christina, has grown up in a fairly stable home with her mother and two cool aunts, never knowing her father, but never asking about him either.

But now it’s cold and hailing, as if the man upstairs has a personal vendetta against mankind. Fortunately, your safe and sound, sitting inside a coffee shop with Gabby, Marti, and your daughter. You think nothing of the voices in the shop, simply enjoying your hot coffee in this cold weather. Since your back is to the door, you don’t notice the group of five that has walked in. You don’t suspect a thing until your friends start squirming in their seats, their eyes darting from you to the group. “What?” you whisper. Gabby leans towards you, “Don’t look now, but…” And of course you look.

Gabe’s walking towards your table.

You panic, looking to your friends for help, but everyone is frozen. You look at your daughter, who’s now staring at her father, eyes wide. Her head slowly turns towards you, “Mom?” she whispers.

“Hey,” Gabe greets. You manage a weak smile in response as you reach to squeeze your daughter’s hand, “Hi,” you choke out. He smiles, looking back and forth between you and Christina. He’s always been smart and you know he’s figured it out by now.

“Why don’t you give us a call sometime?” Marti hands Gabe a napkin with the landline number scribbled on it. He accepts it and nods, “Sure, I will,” he looks at you again, his eyes look so tired as if he’s been slowly worn down by the pressure of fame. He smiles at you again, “What’s your name?” he asks your daughter. 
“Christina,” she murmurs, her eyes still wide at the shock of this sudden meeting.

“Christina,” he repeats.

“Gabe, we have to go, or we’ll be late!” One of the boys calls.

“Just a second!” he replies, “How old are you now? Twelve? Thirteen?”

“Twelve.”

“GABE!”

“Okay!” He turns to you again, “I’ll be in touch,” smiles one last time, and is gone.

And just like, he’s back in your life.