They look annoyingly happy. I love that for them, even if I still harbour a bitterness.
But she chose him. I broke her heart; she broke mine right back. We’re even.
“Have you heard from Rue?”
She goes straight for the jugular. My heart thuds against my rib cage and I clear my throat. Swiping the half-filled glass of water from the table, I swallow down a mouthful.
“Take that as a no,” she muses, picking invisible fluff from my dad’s shoulders and I scowl.
“No.” I lick my lips as I place the water back on the coaster, adjusting it so it sits perfectly in the middle.
“That’s a shame.” She flicks her green eyes to mine.
“Not really.” I shrug, trying to ignore the sting.
“It is, you’re allowed to admit that, Royce,” she says as she picks up the menu and glances at it.
“We didn’t work. She didn’t want to commit, and I think, in all honesty I didn’t either.” I hate the way it feels like a balloon is slowly inflating in my throat.
“Okay.” She hums and agitation bites at my skin.
“Bottle of wine?” My dad sweeps in, tugging at the collar of his polo shirt.
“Not for me.” I knit my brows. He knows I can’t drink, especially with it being the race next weekend.
“Royce.” Anaïs voice floats across the table and I lift my eyes to lock my gaze on her and take in her appearance—shoulder length auburn hair, dusting of freckles, blue eyes that glisten.
“Anaïs.” I bite the inside of my lip.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I just really liked the idea of you and Rue.”
“It’s fine.” I wave it off and grab my own menu, glancing down at it. “If I am being honest...” I trail off for a moment. “So did I.”
I wasn’t lying. I liked her. I wanted things to work out but they just kind of fizzled out… We had a short run, it was fun, breezy, but nothing more than that.
That was okay, though, because I didn’t want a girlfriend. I wanted to focus on my career. It was the same reason I broke up with Anaïs. My career was more important and the girls in my life didn’t like not being the focal point. Anaïs understood, she got it.
I drift from my mindless thoughts when the waiter comes over and asks what we would like to drink. Soda water and lime for me, whilst my dad and his wife ordered a bottle of wine.
“How are we feeling about this season?” my dad asks, lifting his eyes from the menu for a moment to look at me.
“Good.” My tone is clipped.
“Is that it?”
“Yes, I don’t want to jinx it. I have a good feeling; I can feel the butterflies in my gut. That’s a good thing.”
“I think you’ve got the world drivers’ championship in the bag,” Anaïs says very softly.
“Bit premature.” I laugh, my shoulders vibrating.
“Nope.” She shakes her head, fingers curling around the stem of her now full wine glass. “Trust me.”
I dip my chin and drag my glass towards me and wet my tongue.
“Here’s hoping,” my dad chimes in and raises his glass towards me. “If it is any consolation…” He clears his throat. “I think you’re going to smash this.”
“Thanks for that.” A grin locks onto my lips as the waiter returns to take our order.
