17. Michael
The table was set, the takeout I ordered on plates in the oven to stay warm, and the atmosphere was perfect. I had soft music playing, the lights dimmed, roses in a vase, and all I wanted was for this evening to go differently than the last. I didn’t even know why I’d put so much emphasis on the possibility of moving away at some point. I didn’t even know if I’d be offered the job for sure. There were interviews and such to do. And I didn’t mean to pressure Sarah or make her feel like Savannah was a bad place to live.
All I knew was that she was the bright spot in my otherwise dark life right now. Work felt mundane, a monotonous, repetitive chore. I felt anxious to be out adventuring, but I forgot that Sarah was an adventure in and of herself—falling in love, learning everything about her, and finding ways to make her smile. That should have been enough for me, but I let my anticipation for the future override my sense of the present. Tonight, I just wanted to live in the “now”. Maybe later, she would fall in love with me and decide to move away after all.
The doorbell rang, and I hurried to answer it. When I pulled it open, Sarah stood with a plate of brownies in her hands. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a jacket. Her hair had been drawn back into a braid, her makeup only lightly done. She was ravishing in her modest, natural look, and my fingers itched to let her hair down out of that braid and get tangled in the long, wavy locks.
“Hey, come on in…” I stood aside so she could walk in, and she headed right to the kitchen with her plate of dessert.
“I brought some brownies because you can never have too much dessert.” I trailed behind her after locking up and met her near the dining table where she set the plate. When she turned around, I pulled her in for a soft, warm kiss.
She relaxed against me and smiled into the kiss, and I pulled away. “You’re the only dessert I need.” With her only inches from me, I felt at peace. Like my body and mind couldn’t be calm without her influence over them. She was more than enough to keep me steady and balanced, and all she had to do was smile.
“Well, dessert is for after dinner…” Sarah’s hands slid across my chest and smoothed my shirt out, then patted me lightly. “Should we eat?”
I groaned quietly as I pecked her on the lips again and pulled away. “Just let me get things ready.”
Sarah chose a spot at the table, and I moved to the oven, using oven mitts to pull the warm plates out and set them on the table. The food smelled delicious, overpowering the scent of the roses and filling the air with the steamy aroma. She breathed in deeply and smiled.
“This smells wonderful. I assume you ordered in?” Her chuckle was the best part of my day so far.
“Yes, well, I can’t exactly cook like this, so I got takeout. I hope you don’t mind.” I sat in the seat next to her and waited for her to take the first bite, which she moaned over while she chewed. I expected her to be chattier, but she seemed to enjoy her food, so I started eating too.
It was a bit awkward, long moments of silence broken only by the sound of our silverware on the plates, but at least we weren’t discussing what happened last night and triggering my temper. I never meant to allow my frustration to rise to the surface, but in growing closer to Sarah, I was also growing to know myself better too. But rather than just allowing my lack of ability to control my emotional reactions, I was trying to learn to thoughtfully respond.
Sarah was quiet for so long, I decided I needed to say something so she didn’t feel out of place like I was. I wrestled with the right topic of conversation to have, something that wouldn’t lead back to my potential job opportunity. I remembered she’d been talking about whether I wanted a family or to be a father, and I realized she must have asked that because she was growing serious about me and wanted to know if I would make a good father for her little girl. So, it seemed the perfect thing to discuss. Maybe it would help her feel at ease with our having a relationship.
“So, Emily is three?” I asked, trying to recall the facts she’d told me in previous conversations we’d had. My mind had been all over the place with stress lately, so I wasn’t sure I recalled things correctly.
“Actually, she’s four,” Sarah said between bites of food, and I watched her cheeks blush a bright crimson. I thought the blush was beautiful, but I didn’t point that out because it seemed to make her uncomfortable. She rubbed her cheek and took another bite of food.
“Where is her father? Do you still have contact with him?”
Sarah shifted in her chair and nodded. “You could say that…” Her discomfort was obvious, avoiding eye contact, ducking her head, squirming in her seat. Maybe I had brought up the wrong conversation after all, but it was something I was interested in.
“I’d love to see a picture. I bet she’s as adorable as you are.” The way she shrank back made me feel like I had really crossed a line. Some mothers were very protective over their children, and in today’s world, you could never be too careful.
“I, uh… I don’t have any pictures in my purse… Which I left in the car, anyway. And I just got a new phone, so there aren’t any on there either… I’m sorry.” She looked up at me, and I swore I saw tears in her eyes that she blinked away. Then she said, “What about you? Why aren’t you dating anyone? How does such an amazing, talented, handsome man not have a partner at your age?” She grinned playfully, but her words sliced through my heart, threatening to make my lid blow.
Of course she’d ask the one question I never wanted to answer to any woman I dated. My failure to hold a relationship was an embarrassment. Yes, it stemmed from my emotional isolation and not being able to communicate well, but having to explain that to anyone, even the kind-hearted Sarah Bennett, was humiliating.
“I just haven’t found the one,” I said grumpily. I hung my head and stabbed a few green beans with my fork, then scowled into my plate. The night was taking a turn I didn’t want to navigate, and she’d only been here twenty minutes. I had to stop letting my emotional roadblocks get in the way of our having a conversation. And it appeared she had a few of her own, mostly surrounding her daughter and how she wanted to raise her.
Things got quiet again for a few minutes, and then I decided to attempt to take our relationship to a “next level”. It was a leap, but I hoped maybe she would be up for it, even though I knew it might be a while before she reciprocated.
“Uh, I’d like for you to meet my mother… if you’re up for it.” Looking up at her, I noticed that she stopped eating and set her fork down. She smiled politely at me, but I couldn’t tell whether she was averse to the idea of meeting my mother or the previous topic of conversation had just caught up to her.
She took a calming breath and met my gaze. “I think that would be lovely. Now, I have to use the toilet, so if you’ll excuse me…” She stood and pushed her chair back. I watched her walk toward my bedroom, though she could have used the powder room off the laundry, but she hadn’t been here enough to know I had a separate toilet for guests. I didn’t mind her using my private bathroom, though. It was just more proof that maybe we weren’t at that point in the relationship yet.
I sighed and dropped my head. Maybe I had really done it and pushed her away, and maybe she was just too nice to tell me she wasn’t interested in a relationship with me now. My insecurities started to play up, convincing me that the right thing was to go to London and get a feel for the job there. Because if things kept going the way they were with Sarah, I had nothing to stay in Savannah for.