Rowan
The woman sitting across from me is pretty. She has short red hair, dark eyes, and freckles that remind me of Natalia. Except Natalia’s are so much more beautiful. Shannon is nice and sweet and would absolutely be someone I would date if I weren’t desperately in love with someone else.
And the guilt of hardly listening to anything Shannon is saying is eating at me. None of this is fair, especially not to Shannon. She deserves someone who will take interest in what she has to say, someone who will engage earnestly in conversation with her.
So when the waiter comes back with the check, I do what I would do on any date and reach for it.
“Oh you don’t have to do that,” she says and plucks her wallet out of her hand bag.
“No,” I protest with a smile. “I’ve got it.”
The guilt sparks painful electricity when her pale cheeks redden as I pull out my wallet and find the waitress’s eyes. I paywith my card, leave a twenty percent tip for her patience with us tonight, and gulp dow the rest of my wine.
“Are you okay?” Shannon asks, shyly, for the third time tonight.
“I’m great.”
“You’re sure?” She grimaces a fraction.
“Yes.” I sigh, extremely apologetic. “I’m sorry, Shannon…”
“It’s okay.”
We stand and I help her put on her coat before I walk her out the restaurant. Outside, I stuff my hands inside the pockets of my coat and Shannon sways on her heels, a tiny smile on her red-painted lips. Her nose is already red from the icy December air and my ears are feeling a piercing pain. My heart is sore and if I even brush my fingers over my sternum it hurts worse.
“Thank you for this,” she says, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear. “It was really lovely. And the food was great.”
“Yeah, it was. I love this place,” I agree and kick the pavement with the toe of my shoe. I sigh.
“So, maybe…”
Damn it.“I am really sorry, Shannon,” I try to say as gently as possible.
She chuckles and my brows pinch. “I know you are.”
I blink a few times quickly. “But I?—”
“I can’t say I’m not disappointed,” Shannon goes on with a low chuckle. “You’re handsome and very nice. But I can tell there is someone you can’t get out of your head, and I think I know who.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “I really am sorry,” I say. “You’re really great and you deserved better than this date. I wasn’t… I’m sorry.”
“It was a great date, Rowan. You don’t have to keep apologizing,” she says and squeezes my arm assuringly. “She’s very lucky.”
“And whoever you end up with is very lucky too.”
“Thank you, Rowan.” Shannon smiles.
“Thank you, Shannon.” I smile and dip my chin. She holds out her hand for me to shake. “Get home safe.”
“You too.” Shannon turns and walks in the opposite direction to her car, and I begin to cross the street.
Going toward my grey GMC Terrain, I notice a familiar car and pause. I pretend to check my phone as I read the front license plate from the corner of my eye. I see the combination of numbers and letters that tells me exactly who it belongs to.
I huff a laugh and pocket my phone before getting into the car.
I’ve only ever really dated Natalia, whether she thinks so or not. Everything I’ve ever done with her I consider a date, and some of the best moments of my life. All of it means something to me, and I should just tell her. I should scream it out loud that it’s her and me and that’s it. No one else.
I keep my eyes on the rearview mirror, her black Chevy Trax in perfect view, and turn on my engine. Funny enough, her engine seems to turn on too, her headlines shining through the stressing.
