Four Months Later.
It was an extremely hot summer day in June, but the day was promising rain. Gray clouds billowed and swelled, swirling steadily across the sky. The wind had picked up, but it was still unpleasantly warm. I let out a small sigh and closed the window of my new apartment.
Just yesterday, I had unpacked the last of my belongings and knick-knacks, with the help of Gabe. Since our first encounter four months ago, we've had limited contact. Between work and this divorce, I've been extremely busy. However, he graciously dropped what he was doing two days ago when I approached him and asked for help.
He had gone into town a few minutes ago with the promise of returning with food. Last night, he had stayed with me, although he slept on the couch. It was an accident, really. After helping me move, we had watched a movie. Sometime into it, he had fallen asleep, so I just covered him with a warm blanket and let him stay.
Of course, we hadn't spoken of our intimate moment four months ago. There were a few instances where I caught him staring, but I honestly didn't mind. Despite the fact that he was quickly approaching his sixties, Gabe was in excellent physical shape. Years of hard manual labor had left him strong and toned. By genetics, he was extraordinarily handsome as well. With a strong jaw that was lined with a neatly-trimmed beard and incredible blue, twinkling eyes, he was more than attractive. He still had a full head of hair, although it had turned to a suiting dark gray.
Although my soon-to-be ex-husband had inherited certain attributes from his father, it was obvious that Greg took after his mother. He had green, beady eyes that were set into a round face that rested top an even rounder figure and an awful, despicable attitude that was downright foul. Words can't really describe how miserable I was with him. Oh well, he's old history.
At that moment, I see Gabe's familiar truck pull into the parking lot. Just a few moments later, I let him in to see he has indeed brought food. I close the door behind him, locking it securely.
"I didn't know what to get you, so I just ordered a cheeseburger," he apologizes, fishing around the paper sack and producing a burger. I take it with a smile.
"It sounds perfect, Gabriel." I say. "Thank you."
"It's the least I could do. You let me stay here last night," he waves his hand to the couch, but I shake my head.
"After everything you've done for me, was I supposed to kick you off my couch?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow. "I've missed you."
"I've missed you too, Del." He says, giving me that lopsided grin. It takes my breath away, how gorgeous he is at times. "It's raining."
Glancing outside, I realize he's quite correct. The promised rain has begun spattering against the windows, and thunder rumbles gently.
"Let's eat," I murmur.
Ten minutes later, the remains of our meal were being thrown away and Gabe was putting in a movie. The rain had really picked up, and thunder rolled noisily outside. My irrational fear of loud noises caused me to shift uneasily.
"You all right?" he asks, his blue eyes seeking out my own. "Is it the thunder?"
"Yeah," I admit, embarrassed. "Always."
"I'll keep you safe," he murmurs, taking a seat next to me. Casually, he drapes his arm over the back of the couch, behind me. Tentatively, I lean against him, resting my head where his shoulder and neck meet. Instantly, he stiffens, and I feel myself unraveling. Of course he doesn't want this again; it was only a fluke, what happened four months ago . . .
Then, his arms wrap around me, and I let out a breath I had been holding. His hands rub my back and his chin rests on top of my head. Nervously, I shuffle in closer, allowing myself to relax.
"Do you ever think about . . . Valentine's Day?" I ask quietly.
"All the time," he answers immediately, his voice guarded.
