After every bite of their respective meals were eaten, a few tastes of the other’s plate even swapped, like it was old times, the two settled back in their chairs.
“Okay,” Cadence said. “Iknowwe already talked about this, but dinner wassogood… do we really need dessert?”
Tyler hung his head and shook it back and forth like he was disappointed, but the teasing smile about his lips gave away his true emotions.
“Cadence,” he said. “Cadence, Cadence, Cadence. Yes. Wedoreally need dessert. Sheesh.”
And so they did, in fact, order desserts. Cadence chose a poached pear crumble that came with a full piece of the fruit at the center, its flesh so perfectly cooked that she scarcely had to touch it with her fork before the fruit split. Tyler opted for a chocolate hazelnut tartlet, which came with a fluffy cloud of house-made whipped cream on top, with just the tiniest sprinkle of sea salt to heighten the impact of the dessert’s sweetness. And, as planned, they swapped halves, then enjoyed a rousing debate about which dessert was more delicious, each person changing sides practically bite by bite.
As the night drew to a close, Cadence found herself eating more and more slowly, partially because she was so well sated by her meal, but mostly because she was increasingly reluctant for the night to end.
Eventually though, she could stall no longer. The restaurant was gradually emptying, and they’d had the last bites of food and final sips of drink nearly a quarter of an hour ago.
“Shall we?” Tyler asked, sounding as reluctant as Cadence felt.
She tried not to let her face reveal too much of her feelings.
“Yeah, I guess we’d better head out,” she said.
As they drove back to Cadence’s house, a taut silence stretched between them. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence necessarily. It was more… anticipatory.
Something had changed this evening, Cadence reflected. She didn’t entirely know what it was, not quite yet, but sherecognized the shift. And she knew instinctively that Tyler did too.
They pulled into the driveway they’d once shared, then paused again after Tyler turned off the car, as if they feared that doing anything would break the spell between them. Eventually, however, they gathered their things and made their way to the front porch.
Cadence knew she should reach inside her bag for her keys, but instead she just looked at Tyler, lit as he was from the warm glow of the front porch light. He looked very young, somehow, and that lit up an ache in Cadence’s chest.
“Cadence,” he said, his tongue darting out to touch the corner of his mouth nervously. “Do you… I mean, would it be all right… can I kiss you?”
He stumbled over the words, which Cadence found endearing and rather comforting. He was as nervous as she was, after all. She wasn’t alone in this.
And that sense of communal emotional experience led her to nod.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I… think I’d like that.”
Tyler looked like she’d given him the greatest gift of his life. His joyous smile was the last thing she saw before he pressed his lips to hers.
It was a chaste kiss, far more limited than many they’d shared in their relationship. It was only a second or so longer than a peck. Logically, Cadence knew that.
But the emotional tidal wave it caused in her made it as impactful as if she and Tyler had stood there kissing for hours.
Part of her wanted to do just that, wanted to weave her fingers though Tyler’s sandy locks and hold him close to her, to never let him go.
Another part of her wanted to shove him away before her heart became even more compromised.
In the end, she did neither. She just rode out the wave of feeling that came from the brief kiss, then tried to blink back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Tyler said when he pulled back and saw her conflicted expression. “We don’t have to do it again if it was so terrible.”
She knew he was making the joke to make her feel better as well as to cover up his own worries. She feared she had gotten out of the habit of thinking about Tyler’s feelings when it came to matters between them, but now, with his nerves and hope staring her right in the face, she couldn’t avoid the reminder that his life had changed dramatically when they’d separated too.
But she was in no mood to joke.
“I know, Ty,” she said, voice sounding watery. “I just… I can’t yet. Thank you for tonight. It was amazing, really. But I have to go.”
And then, before he could say anything more, she snatched her keys from her bag and let herself in the house, where she could hurry upstairs and clutch her feelings to her chest and wonder if she’d made a terrible mistake in opening up her heart to this man once again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
