The Abyss by Lara Blunte Page B

softly.
    He bowed over her hand, and then let it go, "Clara," he said, and it was his voice.
    It was his face too, though his nose had clearly been broken, which gave him a virile look without making him look coarse. He seemed taller, and he was much stronger, with a deep chest, broad shoulders, and muscular legs beneath his white breeches. His eyes were bluer against his tanned face, and there was something more guarded in their expression.
    It was Gabriel, yet it wasn't. He had left Lisbon a youth of twenty-four, and this was a man of almost thirty. She thought he looked more handsome than ever.
    "You are here!" she said.
    She knew that she must be smiling, because she had begged every saint in the pantheon to let her see him again, and there he was.
    "Yes," he said. "I have been here a while."
    He was different, and when she had thought of meeting him she had known he would be, because of the way they had parted. But it was impossible, in a crowded room, to explain the complex feelings that four years before had made her refuse his proposal.
    Yet, as she looked at this new man before her, she knew that she loved him with the renewed passion one might feel for something profoundly dear that had been lost, perhaps never to be seen again, and was now found.
    "How..." she asked, barely breathing. "How have you been?"
    Gabriel had thrown glances behind her, and Clara became aware of the room once more, of people who had seen her cross the floor to talk to a man and were curiously watching, of her mother, who must be all shades of purple.
    Still, he was looking at her now, the music was loud enough to cover their conversation, and she was not ashamed to have come to greet him.
    "I have been well, and you?"
    He is so polite , she thought.
    "Well. As you see, we had to run away. At least you came of your own will."
    "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I chose to come."
    "Have you been here all his time?"
    "Four years," he replied.
    "And... " She could only think of things she would ask a stranger and suddenly it struck her that Gabriel was a stranger to her now. "And do you like your life here?"
    "I do. I have no plans to go anywhere else."
    She could feel her face going red as she inquired, because she must, "Do you have a family?"
    He looked at her for a moment, and it seemed that his eyes were scanning her face. She started to feel faint, waiting for him to grasp one of the beautiful Brazilians who were around him by the hand and say, "Yes this is my wife."
    How would she have the strength then to walk back to her parents, or remain standing on legs that were already shaking? She had found strength for so many things, but she was not sure she could bear this, to see him only to know that she had lost him.
    "No, I have no family," he said. “I did not get married.”
    She could not hide her feelings from him, but she managed to cover her lips with her fan so that he wouldn't see her smile of joy. What a foolish thing to be longing for a man! What a puny thing, and yet she could not help it.
    His eyes looked more like the eyes of old as he suddenly said, "I won't ask you to dance, I haven't danced in too long. But I am glad to see you again."
    Her own eyes did fly up at this, and there was all the hope in the world in them, and there was humility too, and the desire for his forgiveness. Was he not standing there, impeccably dressed, apparently successful, having achieved what he had set out to do? And she had not trusted him, though she had ended up suffering privations anyway.
    "You look different," she said. "But it is still you."
    There was a sad half smile from him at this. What had he been through? How had he broken his nose and become so strong, like an oak tree, or something impossible to cut down?
    "I hope," she found herself saying. "I hope you come to visit us?"
    It was not proper for her to ask, but he had been insulted the last time he had gone to their house, and he must be invited. His gaze swept beyond her, to her