What the hell? My eyes widen in surprise. She got all that from one cab ride? When I didn’t reveal anything about myself.
A knowing grin spreads across her lips. “You have a chess set in your office, several bonsai trees, and the completed Sudoku in the newspaper today was sitting on your desk, which you probably did first thing this morning.”
This woman is not only unbelievable but also highly observant.
“I could also see the pain in your eyes at the thought of spending the evening with me, Elijah. You’re either not used to being around someone as chatty as me, or your girlfriend will be pissed at you for having dinner with another woman you barely know.”
“Please call me Eli.” I clear my throat, lining up the salt and pepper mills to the left of the small vase of flowers on the table. “And I don’t have a girlfriend.” Or a friend with benefits or any other kind of arrangement.
Being alone isn’t a failure; it’s an opportunity to grow.
That’s the lie I’ve been telling myself for years. The truth is, I’ve never met anyone recently that I could imagine spending my life with. I would never tell anyone, but I am lonely. Although I know no one could handle me the way I am now.
Broken.
And no one wants that.
Since I learned that my dad was unwell and what he had was incurable, it flipped a switch inside me that struggled to accept his diagnosis. I’m different now, questioning the meaning of life and what happens after death. In short, it’s fucking ruining my days and nights, when what I should be doing is thriving and enjoying every minute of this successful, beautiful fucking world I live in, but I can’t seem to get out of my own head.
I was closer to my dad than Max and Nathan because they were older and busy with their own lives, while Cole, my youngest brother, was always with Mom. Dad’s diagnosis hit me differently than it did them.
When I was younger, after school, I would go to the office to help Dad with filing, archiving, photocopying, pretty much anything to learn from him. Like a human sponge, I listened, soaking up everything there was to know about law procedures, policies, the people he defended, and the profession. My dad is my idol, and all I ever wanted is to be like him—driven, successful, and a true inspiration. Growing up, on Saturday mornings, while Nathan, Cole, and Max either played tennis or football with Mom in attendance, I went into the office with Dad, where he would walk me through the opening and closing statements he was preparing for the week ahead. Saturdays were always my favorite, the best part of my week.
Now he’s in a memory care home, his mind and body wasting away, when he should be thriving, enjoying his retirement, and living the best years of his life with my mom.
I redirect my thoughts away from the ugly thoughts that roll in my head daily and focus my attention on Sapphire then say, “The pain you saw in my eyes is because I have a headache.” That’s not a lie, but she was half right about me wanting to run for the hills instead of having dinner with her.
“Oh, I have just the thing to help with that.” Sapphire dips her hand into her purse and pulls out a small U-shaped device. “It’s an acupressure clip for migraines,” she informs me before demonstrating how to use it. “You place it between your thumb and index finger. Just like that.” She places it between her fingers, then holds up her hand. “It helps by applying pressure to the L14 acupressure point, and I promise your headache will disappear within minutes. Here, try it.” Sapphire slides it off her fingers and hands it over.
It’s amazing how comfortable she is around me. Well, not just me, but everyone. Her hair seems to be a common topic she enjoys discussing. The restaurant hostess was practically swooning over Sapphire as we walked in, chatting with her like they had known each other forever. In comparison, it takes me a while to get to know people.
My brothers think I’m the serious one, but in reality, I’m not. It’s just that they are more spontaneous than I am, especially Max, who is a daredevil and enjoys jumping out of planes in his free time. My stomach does a back flip just thinking about what would happen if the parachute failed. Nope, that’s not for me.
I hold up the headache device and examine it to distract my spiraling thoughts.
No way is the thing that looks like a woman’s clit vibrator going to help me.
“Trust me, Elijah.” Sapphire places her hand on my thigh, making me flinch from the intimate contact.
I look up and study her face, her pupils holding me prisoner. They look like they’re painted in the deepest blue and sprinkled with flecks of silverish white. They resemble what sapphires with moonstone trapped inside would look like.
I gulp and correct her again, “It’s Eli.”
A small tug pulls at her lips. “Eli, trust me.” She nods, gesturing for me to place the acupressure clip between my fingers as she showed me, before her hand slides off my leg.
There’s so much kindness within her, it practically takes center stage.
Without a word, I place the device between my fingers and do as she asks: trust.
Splaying her fingers, she says, “Five minutes. That’s all it takes.”
That’s a big promise. How can five minutes cure a headache I’ve had for longer than I can remember?
Sapphire picks up her menu and studies the dinner options. “What are you ordering?”
“Steak enchiladas,” I reply bluntly.
She twists her mouth as if she doesn’t like my choice before telling me, “I’m having the vegetarian enchiladas. I’m a vegetarian.”
