8. Audrey
Walking towards the old restaurant on the hill, I was ecstatic. Theo had picked out the perfect time for the reservation, I’d put myself into a dress that wasn’t topped off with a beret for the first time all year, and I simply couldn’t hold in the little squeal my chest made when I exhaled, thinking of the way we’d kissed and touched. If I was daring, I’d even say I wanted him to compliment my efforts. I wore heels, in hopes that my legs looked longer; I had my hair softly braided to one side; and my little black dress nipped in at the waistline, making me look like I had more distinctive curves than I was actually blessed with. As I stared at my reflection in the glass door, I couldn’t help but think of what Lucy said when I left her place before I got here—that I was the whole package, and if he didn’t realise it, he’d be stupid. I don’t know why her silly words boosted my confidence, but they did… and as I twirled side to side, watching my dress sway with my movements, it felt like Lucy was telling the truth.
With newfound courage, I opened the door and made my way to the restaurant counter, where a woman was taking reservations. She smiled at me, holding a finger up since she was on the phone, telling me she’d only be one minute. I nodded politely, then looked around at the restaurant layout. It was open and beautiful, with sailboats in the background adding a charming appeal to the scenery. While I scanned around, I couldn’t see Theo just yet. That was fine though, I was a few minutes early anyway.
“Do you have a reservation, dear?” the woman asked, getting my attention again.
“It should be under Theo Atkins,” I explained, seeing his name on the notepad in front of her. I knew Theo messaged me with the time to show up, but it felt more reassuring having that written on their end, too. It meant Theo wasn’t the type to just ‘wing it’. Theo wanted to show up, take the stress off of my plate, and get a job done without a reminder. It’s like he knew that taking the initiative would leave me feeling important and cherished.
“Excellent.” She put a cross through his name. “I’ll find your seats.”
The lady asked a free waiter to walk me across the floor, past a few guests who had already started on their entrees and were sipping wine. I was then led to a sturdy, wooden table with linen serviettes, cinched together with brass detailed rings, and sitting atop the dinner plates. This place was fancy. The type of place I imagined people took their lovers to in romance movies, but never found time to actually organise a date like this in real life. And honestly, it made me even more impressed with Theo for going along with the idea, even though I was the one who suggested it. He seemed a bit more blasé than this, and I supposed going along with it meant he wanted to show he actually cared. I’d never enjoyed romantic gestures in the past, and this may delay my plans to drop everything and run to France for a little while… but was I crazy to think I might get to experience that reality with him one day? He clearly enjoyed travelling, and I was bold enough to think he enjoyed me too, based on the sweet words he’d whispered in my ears. I straightened my posture, trying to hold in my grin as I looked around. He should be getting here any minute.
I always thought waiting for someone gave off a funny feeling. It was the kind that made you want to catch their interest as soon as they walked through the door. It made me think things like: should I look out the window, pretending to admire the boats a little longer, so that it could become a talking point? Or should I maybe start looking through the menu, so that when it came to ordering, I could focus on him instead of panicking about what I wanted to eat?
After a while, I realised holding my gaze to the water was getting exhausting. I wondered what was causing Theo’s delay, but when I heard footsteps approaching me, my head swung in their direction with a bright smile.
But it wasn’t Theo, it was the waiter that guided me to my table in the first place. “Can I start you off with a drink, ma’am?”
I was perplexed, but I tried to push back my nervousness. “Maybe in a little bit,” I answered. “I’m waiting for someone.”
With a knowing look, and perhaps a hint of pity, the waiter stepped back. “Of course.”
“Would you like more water?” the waiter asked, compassion filling his face. It matched his five-o-clock shadow well, and made me wonder if men were more handsome when they frowned. But as the night drew on, I had no energy to do anything more than sit and wait. I nodded, a tense smile on my face, trying not to show my embarrassment as I watched the waiter fill my water up to the brim, avoiding the empty glass in front of me. Theo’s glass. Where was he?
If it was as simple as being held up, he should’ve texted me by now. But now that I thought about it, we haven”t really spoken since yesterday. Sure, I sent a message as soon as I arrived out of politeness… but was it alright for me to send another? I took out my phone, but as I looked around me, to more pitiful faces catching my eye, I shoved my phone back in my pocket. It wasn’t just me and the waiter playing this game of pretend, where he believed me each time I said ‘just a little longer’; other people were noticing, too. I didn’t want to look desperate, and besides, he’d be here soon. Surely.
When another half hour passed, I gave in, clutching my phone with shaking hands to send a simple ‘where are you?’ to his number. But by this point, I couldn’t even see a ‘read’ receipt. Was he okay? Did I have the right to feel offended, when he might’ve found himself in a ditch, or been hit by a car? At what point should I have left this restaurant and began worrying more? Or should I have gotten my food already and be done with the stress, where Theo could just order whenever he arrived. I shook my head at the thought, knowing it was so typical of me to add a layer of ice to my heart when things turned slightly out of my favour. I didn’t want to pretend I didn’t care, only to shove all the feelings I felt before arriving deep down into a place I couldn’t access again… because in reality, I cared so much that my heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest.
Then another half hour passed, and I watched the room clear out. Patrons had already ordered meals, fed themselves, and even had the time to indulge in desserts. I watched the waiter peer back over to me cautiously as he cleaned off the nearby tables. Was I keeping them here? I had barely noticed how fast the time had flown, as I strangled my purse under the table; my fingers turning blue from the pressure. I could’ve been here for hours or a minute, without uttering a single word the whole time. And once the waiter slowly walked over to me, I knew it had to be over. “Please,” I asked, feeling utterly pathetic.
“I’m sorry, Audrey,” the man said, and that’s when the pit in my stomach sank deeper. He knew me, and I’d embarrassed myself in front of people who would remember it. When I met his eyes, I realised he’d been around Henry before, and I should’ve noticed earlier. I wondered how many other people were here tonight, who knew me through a friend of a friend. This was why I hated small towns. This was why I had to leave, so that I wouldn’t be remembered like this—for every stupid act of faith in a boy I liked—where I could pretend they forgot about the sad girl who got stood up by someone as soon as she slept with them. “The bar’s closing…” he continued. “I wish I could keep them here, but they’ve got to head home.”
And no longer was I an idiot in pain, I was an idiot in pain who’d taken it out on the staff, for ignoring the signs that they should’ve closed much earlier. Selfish.
“My God,” I spluttered, trying to hold my tears in. “Look where the time went.” My gaze dropped to the one martini I bought to hold my place, which I’d barely sipped beyond the brim. I pulled my wallet out, ready to hand over my card, but the waiter reached out to stop me.
“No need, it’s on the house.” I held his eyes for a moment, waiting for some sense of surety, but I didn’t want to make even more of a fool of myself by refusing.
“Thank you,” I said, before racing down the restaurant floor, through the side entrance where the empty carpark waited for me. And as soon as my car door shut, I howled. I wished it was raining, so that I could pretend the tears staring back at me in the rear-view mirror were coincidental, and I wasn’t this much of a mess… but I couldn’t hide this part of me. I couldn’t hide my own vulnerability from myself. I might forgive Theo tomorrow after a few more drinks and a grand apology, but today, I needed to be with my emotions.
Though when tomorrow finally came, I still hadn’t heard from him. Not a peep until a week later, when I received a message that said, ‘Audrey, I”m so sorry, but something came up. I really had such a wonderful time with you.’ I wanted to vomit, the heartbreak overwhelming me. Then, when I opened Instagram to distract myself, I saw Theo posted a photo with his extended family, gathering around a red telephone booth. He’d gone back to England.