8. Emily
emily
Ben and I are standing on the sidewalk when we turn to face each other. We’re both smiling eagerly at the next step in moving on with our lives.
“So, do you still want to go to happy hour now?” I ask tentatively.
“Sure. Lead the way.” Ben gestures for me to go ahead of him as he falls into step beside me.
I pull up the map on my phone to navigate us to Billy’s, a bar that’s famous for its happy hour deals with cheap, delicious food and fantastic drinks.
It’s only about a five-minute walk. Ben and I walk side by side in comfortable silence as we look around at our soon-to-be neighborhood. As we turn the corner, I notice he switches sides so that he’s the one closest to the street, but I think nothing of it as we make our way to the restaurant.
Once we get there, the hostess informs us we can just seat ourselves at the bar.
We find the only two seats available at the large counter.
I’m taking off my coat when I feel his hands on my shoulders.
Startled, I look over my shoulder, but he simply raises his eyebrow.
He helps me take off my coat, hanging it on my chair as he pulls it out and motions for me to sit.
His excellent manners surprise me, and my cheeks heat as I take my seat.
Ben removes his coat and claims the seat next to me as I look around at the bar.
The vibe is cozy chic, and the patrons seem like corporate millennials who are all dressed to impress.
I feel out of place in my jeggings, oversized sweater, and ankle boots.
Ben seems to fit in with the crowd in his button-down collared shirt tucked into gray slacks that seem to fit him perfectly. He’s even wearing a tie to finish the look. I was never into corporate-type guys, and Logan was always either in his uniform or in gym clothes.
Ben hands me the happy hour menu, and we’re both quiet as we look over the options.
Our eyes meet over the menu, and I feel a tingle rush down my spine.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask him after a moment.
He pauses before he finally answers, “Yeah, I think I do.”
I don’t think he’s talking about what’s on the menu for tonight.
The bartender comes over to us to take our order, and we both order a drink and some food. Normally, the prices are almost double for the food and drinks, but since it’s happy hour, we’re able to get everything at a steep discount.
No complaints here.
As the bartender walks away, we both turn to each other.
I get nervous thinking that small talk would be difficult with Ben since I’ve always struggled with it.
Call me borderline antisocial, but I always found small talk to be tedious.
I would rather spend my free time reading or at the gym most days, where talking is impossible since it’s imperative to keep breathing through a rough workout.
Surprisingly, Ben is so easy to talk to and puts me at ease with his calm and friendly demeanor.
At some point, we’ve both turned our bodies so that we’re facing each other, our knees naturally making room for the other person without effort. I don’t take too much time to think about how well we seem to fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.
After a lull in the conversation, Ben looks me over.
“I never asked you before, but how are you doing?” I look up at him as I ponder his question. I don’t think he’s asking it in a friendly way but more so to get a sense of where my head is post-Logan.
“You know Logan and I broke up…” He tips his chin down in affirmation. “Well, I guess I’m single now and just trying to figure things out.”
Ben takes a moment to absorb my answer before responding. “For what it’s worth, he never deserved you.”
I give him a small smile. “Thanks.”
I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.
As we sit there sipping on our drinks, I fidget. I’m wrestling with the urge to just come out and ask him about how he ended up single at the bar with me. I take a big gulp of my cocktail and work up the nerve to ask him.
“Can I ask…” When he doesn’t stop me, it gives me the courage to continue my line of questioning, “What happened between you and Melissa? Last time I saw you, before Sasha’s birthday party, you guys were engaged…”
His demeanor seems to change from happy and relaxed to tense and guarded in the blink of an eye.
“Melissa and I… We were together for so long. We had a lot of issues, but we were both unhappy. I knew she wanted me to propose. I thought it would make her happy…” He takes a sip from his beer before continuing. “We just weren’t the right fit.”
I’m nodding as I take in his answer. I always thought that Logan and I fit together so well, like two peas in a pod. We always just got along and coasted through life. I never expected to be single at thirty years old and living with a roommate at this stage in my life.
“I have an idea.”
Ben looks at me with his eyebrow cocked.
“How about we be each other’s wingperson? You know, I’ll be your wingwoman, and you be my wingman, and we help each other get dates or whatever?” Saying it out loud sounded so ridiculous, but how else will we both get out from under our exes and past relationships?
Isn’t that how that saying goes? The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else? Why not have a partner in crime while doing it and also someone to make sure the other person is safe?
He takes a moment to answer, but then he’s smiling at me like I’m a genius, and it does things to me I refuse to acknowledge.
“Sure, I’ll be your wingman.” He winks at me before turning back to his food, which arrived while we were chatting.