“So,” I say once we’re both seated, the menus in front of us, “How have you been?”
Jade looks up from the menu, his green eyes meeting mine. For a second, it feels like everything else in the room fades away. There’s just him, and I’m aware of how close we are, how easy it feels to talk to him after so long.
“Since yesterday?” he teases.
I grin at him. Yeah, we did talk for quite a while in the coffee shop. “Yeah, but seriously, how is life treating you?”
“Good,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he seems to rouse himself. “Sometimes, I miss the call center.”
“I get that,” I reply. “Call center life was never dull, was it?”
He shakes his head, letting out a soft laugh. “Nope. It was chaos, but... good chaos.” He seems like he’s about to say more, but then the waiter comes to take our order, and I’m momentarily distracted by the shift in focus.
When the waiter leaves, Jade clears his throat. “So... dinner,” he starts, looking down at the table. “I wasn’t really sure what you had in mind. I mean... yesterday we talked about hanging out as friends. But.” He stops and gestures at our surroundings. “This isn’t a date, is it?”
I laugh, trying to mask how much that actually stings. “Of course not,” I say quickly, too quickly. “I just… honestly, I just wanted to spend time with you. I wasn’t expecting anything more.”
Jade’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s playing some game, if he knows exactly what I’m trying to hide. But then he shrugs. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure.”
There’s something about the way he says it that makes me feel a little lighter. Something in his tone and body language that is speaking volumes more than the words he is saying. Between us, we’ve managed to clear the air and define exactly what this evening is. It’s not the full weight of a date, but it’s still enough to make my heart race a bit faster. And I’m okay with that.
The waiter brings over a basket of warm bread and a small dish of olive oil. We both reach for it at the same time, and our fingers brush. It’s a brief touch, just a fleeting second, but I can’t ignore the spark it sends through me. I pull my hand back, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I can feel my heart hammering even faster now.
“Sorry,” Jade says, his voice low, and I can’t tell if he’s talking about the bread or if it’s something else. He looks down at the basket, then back at me, his green eyes glimmering. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately.”
I raise an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. “Doing what?”
“Brushing against people,” he says, a small, almost apologetic smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been... I don’t know. Maybe a little more touchy than usual.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that. Part of me wants to ask if he’s saying he is touch starved and wants help with that, but I don’t want to come off too forward. So I just laugh it off instead.
“I don’t mind. I mean, it’s just bread, right?”
Jade’s eyes linger on mine for a moment longer than necessary, and I can’t help but wonder if he really is trying to tell mesomething without saying it. That nervous flutter in my chest is back, and I can’t seem to shake it.
The conversation lulls for a moment, and I take the opportunity to push the anxiety out of my mind. This isn’t supposed to be complicated. It’s just dinner. Just hanging out with an old friend. That’s what we agreed on. Casual, with the door of possibility left open.
“So,” I begin, swirling my wineglass, “How have you really been? I mean, we chatted a lot of shit yesterday, but we haven’t exactly caught up since... well, since you left the call center.”
Oh Jesus. Why can’t I talk like a normal person? That was a terrible way of wording it. But I have no idea how to convey that I’m worried about him and I really want to know why he disappeared. Because I want to help, if there is any way that I can.
Jade hesitates, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his glass. It’s subtle, but I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “Yeah, I... I’ve been through some stuff. Nothing bad, just... you know, life, I guess.” He shrugs, but I can see the guarded look in his eyes. There’s so much more he’s not saying, I can tell. “What about you? You seem like you’re doing pretty well.”
He is clearly deflecting, and that’s fine. He’s hardly going to give up all his secrets, just like that. I am the annoying co-worker who used to flirt with him. He doesn’t know me well enough to trust me. Not yet.
I lean back in my chair and give him a vague answer. “I’m good. Busy, but good.” He doesn’t need to hear about my boring life.
We sit in silence for a few beats, the conversation drifting into a comfortable quiet, but the tension is still there, hovering between us. It feels like we’re both skirting around something we don’t know how to say.
“I’ve thought about you a lot,” I blurt out, before I can stop myself.
Jade’s eyes flicker up to meet mine, his expression softening just a little. He doesn’t say anything, but his silence speaks volumes. Iimmediately regret being so forward, but the words are already out there, hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.
“I mean... after you left,” I continue, trying to salvage the moment. “I just... I didn’t know what happened. Why you disappeared. I guess I’ve been wondering about that ever since.”
Shit. So much for me respecting his privacy and his obvious wish to not talk about his vanishing act. When I asked him at the coffee shop, he babbled nonsense about a family emergency. I should respect that version of the truth until he chooses to tell me something else.
Right now, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. Guilt? Regret? But then he blinks, and it’s gone, replaced by a more neutral expression.
