My eyes seek her out immediately. She’s like a bright red neon sign against a backdrop of grey. She’s beautiful but she’s visibly shaking. Something’s wrong, I can feel it like it’s a strong scent lingering in the air. As I near the table, she stands and reaches for me. I greet her with the largest smile I can muster, she tries to smile back but it doesn’t quite stretch far enough for it to be believable. Maybe to an outsider looking in, everything might seem fine and dandy. But I know better, after all this time, I know my Katie better than that.
I press my lips to hers. It’s a strange thing for us, Katie usually pushes away all public displays of affection. She’s not one that wants to show us off. She likes us being hidden, closed off from the world. But she turns her head towards me, meeting my lips.
“Hey. I’m not late, am I? I got stuck in traffic.”
“No, you’re fine.” She smiles politely like she didn’t get here half an hour early and wait patiently for me. It looks forced, so I know that despite her being polite that I am most likely right about her getting here early. Instead of mentioning it and making the already tense air worse, I drop it and try distracting myself with the menu.
Malano’s isn’t anything too fancy but the food sure is great. Over the years we’ve come here so many times that I’ve learned that the key is to skip the starters and the bread rolls. It’s taken me a while to come to terms with missing out on their extra cheesy garlic bread, but this way you don’t get to miss out on any of their delicious mains - which for me is always their sirloin steaks. My mouth waters just thinking about them.
“You look really nice,” I tell her, trying to make conversation, to battle the silence that we’re lingering in. “So, how’s your day been?”
She glances down at her dress, she seems distracted - so distracted that she’s forgotten what she’s wearing. Her lips quirk up into another small, polite smile and nods half-heartedly. I could scream with frustration, I really do not like that smile. It’s pathetic, a useless tool that she’s using to hide behind.
“Fine. Work has been really quiet lately and, Veronica’s in town, so I’ve spent some time with her. She’ll be staying with me until after the wedding.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. Before I can answer, a waiter arrives to take our drinks order.
I order a beer and Katie orders a large glass of wine. The waiter is quick to bring them over and Katie nearly launches out of her seat to get to her glass. After a steady sip, she sighs, and after three her shoulders start to relax. Good, I can finally start to see my Katie shining through. “Do you know what you’re wanting?”
My eyes glance over the menu as I try to guess what she’ll order this time. Katie loves to be different in every aspect that she can, she hates to be predictable. Hence, her order changing every time we come here, despite me knowing that her favourite is the pulled pork nachos. I catch a nod of her head as she takes yet another sip of her glass. I smile as I wonder what she’ll surprise me with this time.
“Evan, I need to talk to you about something,” Katie says it carefully like she’s rehearsed this, practising to get every word just right.
“What is it?” I ask, my stomach already starting to curdle in my gut. I close my menu, lay it flat on the table and clasp my hands together. But it doesn’t feel right, so I reach a hand across the table to entwine it with hers. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I think…” Her tongue peeks out, wetting her lips before she talks again. “I think we need to stop seeing each other.”
“What?” For a moment, I feel like I must have heard her wrong. It’s like I’m in a passenger in a car crash. The car just skidded on some black ice. I feel the car losing control, I see a fence rapidly approaching, but through it all, I don’t actually know what’s happening. Are we really going to crash? Or are we going to be able to stop just in time? I can’t answer those questions because I’m not driving - I’m not in control. She is. I’m just a passenger, frozen in fear, with no idea what’s about to happen.
“I think we should stop seeing each other,” she says again, looking over at me, she’s more sure of herself this time. Her eyes are dry, no smile in sight, no hint of humor. Oh god. She’s not joking, she’s fucking serious.
“But…” I feel sick, physically sick like I’m going to hurl. She’s… she’s breaking up with me? But- “I don’t understand.”
“It’s just too much, Evan. All of this. Everything. It’s too much and I can’t do it anymore.” She spreads her hands in front of her, shoulders rising in a shrug. “I just– I can’t do it. I know it sounds ridiculous, and I don’t blame you if you don’t understand.”
“Understand what? Is it something I’ve done?” I ask, trying to keep my voice under control. “Because I’m sorry if there’s anything. I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
“It’s not you, Evan, really,” she says. I see that her eyes are glistening now. She’s really doing this. “It’s just, I’m too young,we’re too youngfor something this big, this serious. I wanna… I dunno. I don’t want to be tied down right now.”
“What?” I feel like it would hurt less if she’d just sucker punched me. “But I thought— No. I don’t believe you.”
“I’m so sorry. You have no idea how much this is killing me too.” I see the mist in her eyes, or maybe it’s my own, but she does genuinely look heartbroken. “I have this gnawing feeling that you’re one day, very suddenly, going to break up with me. I know, it sounds - stupidly - ironic. But it makes me realise that I’ve become too reliant on you if you blindsided me like that I wouldn’t recover. I don’t know what I’d do, and I’m too young to be feeling like this.”
She shakes her head, picking up her purse from the floor. She rummages in it for a second and pulls out a crumpled bill.
“I have to go. Don’t call me, okay? I need time. I’m sorry.” She throws the bill down on the table and stands. I hear a sob catch in her throat as she rushes by me. The bell above the door jingles as she leaves. I stare at the ten-dollar bill she left on the table. Almost enough to cover both of our drinks. I look back to the door, but she’s nowhere in sight. When I turn back to the table, the waiter is returning with a basket of garlic bread.
I want to vomit. I can’t possibly eat anything right now. Without thinking, I pull a bill from my wallet, it’s a twenty but I don’t have anything smaller. I stand and press the bills into the waiter’s hand after he puts down the tray.
“I’m sorry,” I rush to stand, trying my hardest to keep my gaze away from his confused expression. “Thanks for the trouble.”
