“Oh look, they have mince pies! Let’s take two. I know I promised you dinner, but there’s no rule that says we can’t start with dessert first.” He winks.
“No, there isn’t.”
Desserts in hand, we relocate from our original table to a private booth at the opposite end of the lounge, far away from Dylan and Rainy. Having a few minutes to calm down has helped my brain and my body return to reality. Although my nerves are still on edge.
“Thanks for the, um, kiss back there.” I pick up my fork and take a bite of the pie.
“You’re welcome.”
“Seeing Dylan caught me off guard.”
“You don’t have to explain, Ava. I understand better than you may think.” For a moment, Fernando’s eyes gloss over, and a flash of sadness passes over his face. It’s gone, however, as quickly as it appeared.
“No. I think I should.” I take a deep breath. “Dylan isn’t technically an ex-boyfriend. He’s the guy I used to own the clinic with, and until very recently, was my best friend. Right now, I have no idea where we stand.”
“Yeah, I heard his lame excuse about not texting you.” He presses his lips together.
“It’s weird. We used to text back and forth at least once a day, and then when he left Sequoia Valley for Fort Collins, he forgot all about me.” Over pie, and later, soup and sandwiches, I share a few select snippets of my college years to give Fernando a little context on some of the more recent events.
“...When I finally worked up the courage to tell him how I felt about him, he said I wasn’t his type. And that I’d find someone eventually.” I rub the back of my neck. “Since then, he’s dropped me. It’s like eight years of friendship have been erased.”
Fernando inhales sharply. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.” I stack a few of my dirty dishes on top of one another.
“Real friends don’t do that. They find a way to work things out,” he says, sending a glare in Dylan’s direction.
My heart warms at the support. “I don’t know anymore. Maybe all this time I’ve been blind, and we were never as close as I thought we were.”
“I agree with your sister on this one.” Fernando nods. “This Dylan is a waste of your time. As much as it hurts, I think you should give him the same treatment he’s giving you. Cut him off and don’t worry about him.”
My shoulders hunch. “I’ve been trying, but it’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“It is,” he agrees. “There’s always a lot of emotional baggage involved.”
We both sit in heavy silence for a few moments. Another flash of sadness passes through his eyes. I wonder if someone might’ve broken his heart too.
The couple of times we’ve hung out, Fernando has always been kind and considerate. He’s the type of person who’s easy to talk to and keeps the conversation flowing. And that kiss. My body is still hot thinking about it. It’s hard to believe someone like him is single. At least, I think he’s single. He never confirmed he’s not off the market.
Deciding I’m tired of such a heavy conversation, I change topics. “So Lisbon... have you been there before?”
“A few times.” He leans back in his seat, relaxing. “My abuela on my madre’s side is from Porto, Portugal. I used to visit her a few times a year as a kid before my mom persuaded her to move to be closer to us.”
“Since you’re the resident expert again, any tips on getting from Portugal to Madrid?” I fold my hands and rest them on the table. “Should I take a plane, train, or bus?”
“If you value your time, flying is the fastest option.” He pulls out his phone and shows me a map of Spain. “The two cities are about seven hundred miles apart.”
I stare at the long line connecting two black dots on opposite ends of the screen for a few moments, cursing Pacific Skyways again for making me so exhausted yesterday that I missed a small detail like this. Okay, maybe not a small detail. A wooly-mammoth-sized one. “I didn’t realize Lisbon was that far away. I was thinking it would be like going from San Francisco to LA, about a six-hour drive.”
“If only.” Fernando laughs. “The train would be my second choice if I were you. The bus takes too long.”
“Hmm, I guess flying it is.” I puff out my cheeks. “It’s too bad. Now that I’m headed to Lisbon, it seems like a waste to not take advantage of the opportunity to see the city.”
He drums his fingers against the tabletop, studying me. “How flexible are your plans?”
“They’re pretty open. Aside from the B&B I booked for Madrid, all the other places I’m staying at are refundable as long as I cancel twenty-four hours in advance.”
“Did you book any train or museum tickets?”
