Omari asked me to meet him tonight to pick my brain about the tequila business. His brothers want him to go into the whiskey business with them, but that’s not something he’s ever considered.
He really is a nice guy, and I feel bad about basically ghosting him, so here I am listening to him drone on over steaks.
“Well, you can’t rush into a decision like this. Switching careers is life-changing.”
He ponders my words. “You’re right. I’ve been thinking I need some sort of change in my life. Something big. I just don’t know if this is it.”
I take another bite of my steak, apparently oblivious to Omari staring me down. When I finally notice, I pause with my fork halfway to my mouth. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
“No. Nothing like that. I’m just looking for the right words.”
Uh-oh. Nothing about his tone sounds good. Maybe coming here to end things with Omari in person was a mistake. “Omari, before you say anything, I feel like I need to go first.”
His face drops into a mask of nonchalance. “Sure, go ahead.”
“I came here tonight as friends because you wanted to pick my brain. But I’m seeing someone now, so that is all I came for.”
He wipes the side of his mouth with his napkin. “Is it serious?”
More serious than I ever intended when this started. “It is.”
“I figured as much when I couldn’t get a hold of you.”
Omari stopped texting me a while ago. I think we were still in Colorado the last time he messaged me, and it’s been weeks since I even thought about responding. I should’ve ended things definitively then. I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe I was trying to sabotage what Micah and I have been trying to build. Who am I kidding? That’s definitely what I was doing, but I’m here trying to rectify that now. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s really not. You’re a great guy, Omari. And you deserve someone who sees that and appreciates it. I’m sorry I wasn’t her.”
He holds up his drink. “Cheers to finding the right person at the right time.”
I clink my glass with his. “Cheers to that. Now, let’s get back to whiskey.”
After dinner, I hug Omari goodbye and stick around to order some dessert to-go. My mind is stuck on one person and one person only, so that’s where I’m going to go.
Micah opens his door in a T-shirt and sweats. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi.” I hold up the takeout bag. “I brought dessert.”
He steps aside to let me in. “What’d you bring?”
“Tiramisu.”
He quietly leads me to kitchen where he grabs two forks and pulls out my stool for me. There’s something in his eyes that doesn’t sit right with me. It’s sadness with a hint of something else I can’t quite decipher.
“Did everything go well with Bailey’s treatment?”
“Yeah, it was cool,” he says around a bite of dessert. I wait for him to give me more, but he doesn’t. He’s been psyching himself out for this appointment for weeks and all he has to say is “It was cool”?
“Are you okay?”
“Hmm. I don’t really know. But I’ll figure it out.”
That doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in me. I’m beyond happy with Micah. Our connection now is even stronger than it was when we were together before, but this time it feels different. Like it could last.
But damn if his response doesn’t trigger an onslaught of hurt within me. “Okay. Well, can I help you figure it out?”
A war brews behind his eyes. It’s a battle I’ve fought many times between letting those you care about shine a light on you or remaining in the dark. The darkness won far too many times for me, but all I want is for us to step into each other’s light.
