36. 2021
Chapter thirty-six
2021
The Restaurant
Sam
“ W ow.” Cara glances around at the restaurant, her eyes roving all around in wonder, taking in the ambience. “This place is something else.”
The speakeasy/restaurant, a converted 1920s bank, has been on Cara’s must-visit list for months. When it opened back up after COVID-19, I booked us a table right away.
The ceilings soar above us, creating an expansive atmosphere, and the intricate wood carvings along the walls are impressive. Soft leather couches line the open second floor, providing a relaxed spot for those who want to enjoy a drink. The smooth texture and polished sheen of the marble-like columns create an air of sophistication. Black table cloths drape over each table along with a lone candle as a centerpiece. In the basement, there is a bank vault which is rented out for private parties. As soft jazz music fills the air, other patrons engage in lively dinner conversations.
“Mm-hmm,” I mutter, not able to take my eyes off my phone. I strain to catch her words as she debates the menu, trying to figure out what to order. But my focus is on Maria’s Instagram page, neglecting everything else around me .
Her once quiet page was full of information. And thanks to my decision in the car three years ago … I’m completely in the dark when it comes to her life. Naturally, I became obsessed by scrolling on it non-stop. Acting like a jealous, obsessive high schooler.
How am I back at this place?
That place being my thoughts consumed by her. And not the incredible woman sitting across from me. My girlfriend of four years, Cara. Which is why we are at this fancy, over-priced restaurant. It’s our anniversary, and I have a feeling I know what Cara is expecting tonight.
A proposal.
Yeah … that’s not happening.
Not as long as my heart is still halfway with Maria.
Cara and I were going strong in the beginning. I left Maria behind and dove in headfirst with Cara. As I always do when I’m trying to avoid something that hurt me. We had a blast, and I fell in love with her all over again.
Well, kinda love. It’s love, but not the all-consuming kind. I had that once, so I know.
There were vacations, road trips, romantic dinners, and quiet evenings spent at home. All of it was amazing.
About a year ago, when Cara started dropping marriage hints, is when I checked out. Her wedding talk was a trigger for me. It made me realize that I wasn’t ready to travel down the marriage road again with a woman, only for the sole purpose of avoidance.
All the marriage talk made me realize that deep down, Cara and I don’t belong together. Plus, the long stretches of time apart followed by the constant togetherness due to the pandemic began to wear on us. On top of that, Maria’s Instagram became a noisy hub of activity, overwhelming me with details about her life. There were pictures of her kids, her with the kids, scenic pictures, and then the ones that hurt the most. Her with another man.
Why am I doing this to myself?
I continue to scroll and size this loser up as Cara goes on and on about how her friend told her the calamari was ‘top notch’ here. In every picture, Maria looks stunning, and I can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy as I examine this adonis of a man.
He’s a guy who fills out a suit with his gym-bro body, probably one of those meat heads who can bench 315 lbs. His jawline is so perfectly defined, it looks like it’s been carved from solid granite. In the pic of them at Marshall Lake on what I am assuming is this dude’s boat, I’m pretty sure he has a twelve-pack. Maria, well, she was wearing a black bikini and a tan. And wearing it well.
I keep scrolling.
And his name—don’t get me started—Geoffrey with a G. He is the epitome of male attractiveness. And to make it worse, I’m sure he’s a nice dude and not a horrible human. Because after what Maria had gone through, she wouldn’t settle for anything less.
Plus, he looks identical to a celebrity, but I can’t seem to put my finger on who.
Brad Pitt? No. Charlie Hunnam? No, that’s not it. Ryan Rey—
“Um … earth to Sam?” Cara’s voice cuts through my obsessive thoughts, bringing me back to the present as I peer across the table at her. The small candle centerpiece flickers in the darkened restaurant, illuminating the irritated look she is giving me. She flicks her head and eyes to her right. I glance up to see our waiter staring at me, his arms behind his back, waiting for what? I have no idea.
“Oh, yeah, hi.” I put my phone down, greeting the young, skinny kid who towers over our table. He’s wearing a white pressed dress shirt, a black tie and pants, with an apron around his waist. He looks twelve. Then again, everyone looks young to me these days.
“What would you like to drink this evening, sir?” He whips out a bottle of wine from behind his back, showcasing it to us both. “May I recommend our newest Shiraz?”
Is this kid even old enough to offer alcohol to people?
I gesture to Cara. “Why don’t you go first, honey?”
“I already did.” She deadpans, her face devoid of emotion.
“Oh.” With an irritated demeanor, the waiter places the bottle on the table, letting out an exasperated sigh. I was so engrossed in Maria’s Instagram that I didn’t notice this kid sneak up on our table. Or hear Cara place her drink order. I square my shoulders and clear my throat as I allow myself to embrace the present moment. I’m pretty sure I’m coming across as the world’s worst date right now. “No wine for me, thanks. I will have a Glenlivet on the rocks.” The waiter picks up the bottle of wine, nods, and scurries away.
Cara takes the fancy folded napkin from the table and fans it out, placing it on her lap. “What’s with you tonight, Sam? You haven’t torn your eyes away from your phone since we got here.” When I meet Cara’s eyes, there is a mix of frustration and genuine concern. If she only knew what was holding my attention on the phone, she would be way more upset than she is right now. But she’s right. I need to focus on her. It is our anniversary, and I’m being an insensitive jerk.
“I’m sorry, honey.” I extend my hand across the table, the smooth black tablecloth brushes against my forearm. With a soft smile, she reaches out and takes hold of my hand. “Work is getting to me. You have my full attention now, though.”
Our conversation flows with ease, as it always does. Our drinks and food arrive, and the aroma of the crispy calamari Cara ordered fills my nose. Things seem to be back on track.
As we wait for our entrees, Cara excitedly begins sharing every detail about her friend Zoey’s wedding. She rambles on and on about Zoey’s dress, the centerpieces at the reception, the tuxes the men wore. Then she starts in on how Zoey and her husband went to Fiji for their honeymoon. Want details? Well, I can tell you all about it because Cara won’t stop. I make sure to nod and throw in a big ‘Wow’ every so often. Next is her asking me when I remarry, if I would want a church wedding or one in a barn (neither), and would Mikey be my best man? Or Big C? Ricky?
Marriage and weddings. It seems like that’s the only thing on her mind these days. And I know why. I know what she wants and expects from me. I also know that I am not ready to give her that.
Why can’t we talk about something else? Anything else .
As if on cue, our food arrives, offering a welcome distraction from her wedding ramblings.
With a steak knife in hand and my mouth watering, I cut into my New York strip doused in garlic butter. Out of nowhere, Cara gasps in shock, her fork crashing down onto her plate, stopping me mid-slice. “Oh, my God!” she exclaims.
“What?” My eyes dart across the restaurant, trying to notice anything unusual.
She lowers her head, her voice barely a whisper. “Don’t look now, but Channing Tatum’s doppelg?nger just walked in.”
“Wait, who’s Channing …”
“Shhhh!” She waves her hand to shoosh me as a couple walks past our table to be seated diagonally from us. The enormous man, with his hand resting on the bare back of his date in her navy blue dress, guides her towards their table. With her blonde sleek hair swept to one side, she walks confidently, her dress revealing hints of her toned legs. And when he pulls out her chair for her, and she turns to hang her purse on the back of it, I almost choke on my tongue.
It’s Maria.
With her gym-rat-meat-head-celebrity-look-alike boyfriend.
In my full line of sight.
Lucky me. This restaurant is so dark, and with her back to me, I didn’t recognize it was her when they walked past.
Maria flashes him a huge smile and giggles at something he whispers in her ear before he rounds their table and sits down. He’s a guy, so I’m sure he made some sort of comment about how good she looks in her dress.
Jerk.
Maria has my full attention as Cara turns her head, trying to catch a glimpse of them without being noticed. “I seriously cannot get over how much he looks like Channing Tatum. I swear I thought it was him at first.” With a shake of her head, she laughs lightly while taking a sip of her drink. For the life of me, I can’t place who this Channing is.
“I have no clue who Channing Tatum is. ”
Cara looks like I just slapped her. “You’re kidding me?” I shake my head, still trying to figure out who this actor is. “You know … Magic Mike , Dear John , Step Up .” She stares at me eagerly, hoping that the mention of these movies will jog my memory. They don’t.
Cara digs her phone out of her purse and starts searching for what I’m sure is pics of this amazing Channing Tatum. As she does, I glance over at Maria and catch her and Geoffrey exchange a knowing look. It’s a look shared by two people who truly know one another and have a connection. A knot forms in my stomach, tightening with each passing moment.
The waiter, who had seemed annoyed with me earlier, now stands over their table, presenting the same bottle of wine with a newfound cheerfulness. They must take him up on the wine offer because the kid is uncorking it, pouring it into their glasses.
“See!” Cara shoves her phone in my face, drawing my focus away from the happy couple. And staring back at me is Channing Tatum (yep, they could be twins), on a stage, looking like a Chippendale dancer.
“Wait, I know who that is.” I stare at the picture, trying to make sense of it. “Isn’t he a stripper? Or an actor? I’m confused.” You have got to be kidding me. Maria’s boyfriend looks like that guy.
Kill me now.
Cara glares at me. “He’s an actor, silly. But he played a really good stripper in Magic Mike .” She takes one more quick look at the photo, shivers, and shoves it back in her purse.
I hate Channing Tatum.
“I told you he looked like him.” Oblivious to my inner freak-out, Cara takes a bite of her cajun chicken pasta dish with a satisfied moan. “This is so dang good,” she says with her mouth full. “We are definitely coming back here.”
Why? Why does Maria have to be dating that guy? And, of course, he is better looking and more put together in person. Plus, why does she keep popping up in my life? Does the universe hate me? Is God punishing me? Is this karma?
Stupid small towns !
The sudden clinking of glasses jolts me, causing me to redirect my focus quickly towards their table. They are both drinking from their wine goblets. As soon as they finish, he leans forward, his hand stretching across the table to meet hers. He lifts her hand to his mouth, pressing a delicate kiss onto her knuckles. He says something to her, and her laughter is like a knife to my heart.
I want to throw up.
I used to make her laugh like that.
Witnessing them together is taking a toll on me emotionally, and I know why. The only other time I saw Maria in person with a man was at Dexter’s when she was dating Nate and we danced. That night, she looked unhappy, uncomfortable, and out of place. But tonight, she is stunning and alluring. Her face is beaming with joy and confidence. She’s laughing and touching him … because she wants to. She looks genuinely happy.
The way she used to look with me.
And I hate it.
Plus, she looks so phenomenal in that dress, that it’s nearly impossible to avert my attention from her.
Cara starts talking about what kind of fall decorations she wants at her condo this year as I zero in on Maria’s smooth leg when it crosses over the other. Her black strappy high heels and red-painted toenails doing nothing to help curb this desire to touch her.
I clench my hand into a tight fist and grit my teeth in frustration as I glare at my untouched steak. My body language gives me away, and Cara quickly notices my obvious tension.
“Is your steak okay? You’ve barely touched it,” she asks as she pierces a piece of her chicken.
Ugh. I need to tell her who that is. If she finds out I kept that from her and didn’t say anything, well, that would be bad.
I ready myself to deal the blow. “Cara, Channing Tatum’s date over there…”
“Yeah?” She doesn’t glance at me and continues to chew her food, while gathering more pasta on her fork.
“That’s Maria. ”
She stops chewing, and I see her throat bob as she swallows her bite. She sets down her fork and reluctantly turns to the happy couple.
Ever since that day at the mailbox at the apartment all those years ago, when she saw my excitement at getting Maria’s letter, she knows exactly who Maria is. And what she meant to me.
Both Cara and I watch them.
They are engrossed in their animated conversation and devour the bruschetta they ordered, savoring it. Geoffrey takes a piece of bread and brings it to Maria’s mouth. She opens her perfect lips and takes a bite. He wipes away something from her chin with his thumb. My nostrils flare.
I force myself to look away, and when I do, Cara’s eyes pierce through me like daggers.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin. “Wow. Jealous much?” Frustrated, she slams the black square cloth down on the table.
“What?! No, of course not.”
“Yeah, okay, Sam.” She pushes away her plate, done with the pasta she was devouring minutes ago.
“It’s just weird seeing her, that’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.” She shifts in her seat. “Or is it because you still love her?” Her eyebrow raises with this loaded question I wasn’t expecting her to ask.
I’m tapping my finger on the table to release this frustration coursing through me. “Cara, you know what Maria meant to me.”
“You’re right, I do. You’ve always been honest about her. But that’s not an answer to my question. Plus, I know you’ve been stalking her Instagram.” I freeze as she nonchalantly shrugs. “I’ve caught you looking.”
Busted.
Leaning forward, I prop my elbows on the table and interlock my fingers. “If I’m being honest, yes. Some part of me will always love her.”
As Cara slumps back in her chair, the weight of my confession washes over her. I should give Cara all my attention while on this date. She deserves it. But no matter how hard I try, my eyes insist on gravitating towards Maria’s table. Meat-head Geoffrey brushes a piece of hair behind her ear. I wince .
Seeing her with another man is stirring up a mix of unexpected sensations in the pit of my stomach. I can’t seem to control my emotions; they’re like a storm raging inside me. Jealousy, rage, and sadness course through my veins. But mostly anger and regret for letting her leave my car that day. I was a coward.
Because, of course, I forgive her. We both have made mistakes in this tangled web that we have created. I could have fought harder for us. I should have. She deserved more empathy for what she was dealing with, both with Chad and Nate. The corners people backed her into, I’m sure, felt suffocating, leaving her no room to maneuver her own life.
Plus, she was young. So, so young.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her to find out Nate was unfaithful for their whole marriage. That must have been devastating. And with Chad, she had no life experience to help her make hard choices. How can I possibly hold any of that against her? It’s not fair.
I need to give my therapist a fat tip. Again, he helped me to see what I was missing.
As I stare at her and Geoff, acting like they are the only two people in this place, I realize … I may have lost her. For good.
The actual pain in my chest is too much.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cara studying her phone, its screen illuminating her face. She sets it down gently. It wasn’t until now that I realized how much time had passed without us saying a word. She gives me a pointed look, and I can feel the weight of what she’s about to say. “Sam, we have been together for four years,” Cara begins, choking out the words, while my gaze remains fixed on Maria. “And you have never looked at me the way you are looking at her right now.”
This declaration quickly brings my attention back to her. “How am I looking at her?”
She wraps her arms around herself, and her chin quivers slightly. “With desire, longing … and love.”
As the waiter comes to gather our plates, we sit in silence, our eyes locked in a wordless conversation. He offers us boxes for our leftovers and then dessert .
We deny both.
As the waiter leaves to get us our check, Cara continues. “You’ve been distant for months. I can feel things changing between us. This is the third time we have tried to make this work. I’m thinking three strikes and we are out. Honestly, we both have kinda checked out lately.”
At this point, I’m not sure who is breaking up with who. But either way, we both know that this is the end. She sees it. I see it. We’ve been forcing this for far too long.
A heavy silence hovers over our table as the harsh truth lingers in the air. As long as Maria is alive and well on this planet, I will never be able to fully commit to another woman.
While we wait for our check, Cara confirms my suspicions about the whole evening. “You know, I was hoping you were going to propose tonight, wishing I was wrong about where this was heading.”
“We never talked about that. I never lead you to believe—”
She raises her finger to stop me. “Yes, you did. Maybe not in words. But you did.” She pauses for a moment, before continuing. “I’ve been talking about it so much lately because I thought maybe that was where you were. But then something changed in you, so I kept bringing it up, hoping I could get some kind of signal about where your head was at. I guess I got my answer tonight.”
I extend my hand across the table, pleading with her to take it. She hesitates for a moment before shifting forward in her seat and resting her hand on mine, tears pooling in her eyes. I lightly rub my thumb over her smooth skin. “I’m so sorry, Cara.”
“For what? Wasting my time or being in love with another woman?”
“Both. But mostly for not being the man you deserve.”
She gives my hand a firm squeeze before releasing it. “Thank you for saying that,” she says, her voice laced with a sadness.
Movement from Maria’s table catches my eye. They both rise from their seats, getting ready to leave. Geoff pulls his wallet from his back pocket, opens it, and throws money on the table like the cool guy I’m sure he is. As he glances at his watch, a look of urgency crosses his face. They must be in a rush .
What are they in a hurry to do?
Never mind. I don’t want to know.
As Maria takes a step to leave, our eyes lock. She halts mid-step. A small gasp escapes her mouth. For a moment, her entire body is rigid, but then she relaxes as a gentle smile graces her lips. And when her eyes light up with the slightest twinkle, it’s almost as if she is happy to see me. I scrub my hand over my mouth to hide the smile crossing my lips at her reaction. But then her gaze shifts to Cara, and the smile fades as she lowers her head, her shoulders slumping.
My heart sinks.
Geoffrey senses her sudden lack of movement and leans down, lips moving as he speaks. His words and voice are barely audible over the bustling crowd and soft music. Probably asking her what’s the matter. She says something in return as she juts her chin in our direction. He follows her line of sight, then instinctively adjusts his stance, squaring his shoulders. He then slings his arm around her back and locks eyes with me, his glare intensifying.
He knows exactly who I am.
Moving in closer to her, I watch his lips moving as he whispers something in her ear, and she nods in agreement. He drops his arm, and they lock hands as they walk straight toward Cara and me.
Looking like a team.
“Oh, God,” I say, my eyes dropping to the ground, bracing myself for what will be the most awkward conversation in history.
“What?” Cara questions, turning in her seat. “Oh.” She straightens up, getting ready for whatever is headed our way.
Without any more time to wrap my brain around this, they are standing right next to our table.