7. Rose #3
A forklift couldn’t have picked my jaw off the floor.
I just sat there, mouth agape in disbelief.
It slipped his mind? He never heard from me?
WTF? Breathe, Ro! Fighting with my emotions not to cry or to have an outburst I would definitely regret, I look down at my hands grasping my iced coffee in a death grip and quietly respond, “You’re right, I don’t think we need to get into this tonight or ever.
Water under the bridge, right? And I did end up living a fabulous life in the city, so I guess everything worked out for both of us.
” God, where is Shirley when I need her?
I can’t even make eye contact with him because I know the moment I do, I’ll lose it.
I want to get this evening over with and go to my hotel room and regroup.
And by regroup, I mean sob into a pillow in the privacy of my room.
Looking around the diner, I spot my savior Shirley walking toward us with my food.
As soon as she is within earshot, I gesture toward her and quickly squeak out, “Actually, could I get my burger to go? I’m sure you guys are closing soon, and we wouldn’t want to keep you.
I’m happy to box it up myself, if you have a box or container.
Or I can even grab the to-go box myself if you just point me in the right direction. ”
I’m rambling at this point, but I don’t think I can hold in my tears much longer. My focus is getting out of here with my dignity partially intact.
“Ro, are you sure? I thought you were starving? I’m sure they don’t mind staying open a bit longer so you can eat your food while it's hot.”
I see Luc give Shirley a sheepish half smile out of the corner of my eye. He’s clearly confused by my swift change in demeanor.
“I’m actually exhausted all of a sudden and want to just call it a night.” I look at Shirley with pleading eyes, hoping she’s receiving my female telepathy that I need an escape, like now. By the grace of the diner gods, Shirley’s expression softens toward me for the first time tonight.
“Not a problem, sweetheart. I’ll grab a box and the check for you. Be right back.” Shirley leaves my plate of food on the table as she retreats to the kitchen for my to-go box.
I’m pretending to search in my purse for my wallet to give me any reason not to look up when Luc says, “Hey, are you okay? I don’t mind hanging out for a bit while you eat. I’m sure they don’t care if we are here a few minutes past closing.”
“No, I really am tired and just want to get checked into my hotel. I had a long drive up from the city this morning and then the walkthrough all day. It’s all just catching up with me.
Really, I’m fine, Luca. I’m just tired. I promise.
” And just like that, this night will go down as the first time I ever lied to Luc and also the first time I’ve called him Luca since we met.
I don’t miss his slight flinch when I say his full name.
He is no longer my Luc, my best friend, my confidant, my rock and shoulder to lean on, my other half.
He is now Luca, the business owner and my current colleague.
And the sooner I start acting like that, the better for my mental and emotional state.
I got over losing him once. I’m not sure if I could do it again and survive.
Thankfully, Shirley returns with a box before Luca can respond. This woman is my new best friend. Plus, her sass is actually growing on me.
“Thanks so much, Shirley.” I throw two twenty-dollar bills on the table as I quickly work to put my burger and tater tots in the white Styrofoam to-go container. “Keep the change. I appreciate you staying open late for us.” I give Shirley the first genuine smile of the night, which she returns.
Before she can scoop up the bills I left, Luca pushes them back toward me. “Ro, I got it.”
“No, that’s okay. I can expense it since this was a business meal. Plus, you only had a coffee, so no worries,” I respond in a clipped tone. My emotions are getting the best of me at this point, and it’s taking every ounce of my willpower not to run out of this diner like it’s on fire.
Shirley, bless her heart, swipes up the twenties I left on the table before Luca can protest further and walks away toward the cash register behind the counter.
“Let me at least walk you to your car,” Luca says in what almost sounds like a pleading or panicked tone as I stand and gather my stuff from the booth.
I give a noncommittal head nod and shrug combination because I don’t trust myself to speak without breaking down. I don’t make eye contact with him as I quickly scoot out of my side of the booth and walk past Luca toward the door, giving Shirley a quick wave goodbye in silent thanks.
My pace is hurried enough that Luca has to jog a few steps to catch up with me.
As I reach to push open the front door, Luca’s hand covers mine at the same time.
We both pause, clearly feeling the same zap of energy with the unexpected contact.
Neither of us knows how to react to it. It’s as if both our brains went offline and then rebooted at the same moment because he starts to apologize as I quickly jerk my hand away from underneath his larger one.
The warmth of his palm lingers on the back of my hand, and I have to mentally restrain myself from rubbing the point of contact.
We couldn’t be more awkward and uncomfortable at this moment if we tried.
In an effort to regain some normalcy, Luca reaches over my head and pushes open the door, giving a small gesture with his other hand for me to proceed ahead of him. How can his touch still give me chills after all this time, even after his extreme brush-off of our entire history?
I must be a glutton for punishment because that moment of physical contact makes me want to forget the past thirty minutes of our conversation and invite him back to my hotel room.
I have clearly gone too long without male attention if I am this naive and blind to the situation.
He hasn’t given me any indication he is remotely interested in me anymore, and I definitely shouldn’t still want him after everything.
But the heart wants what it wants, or whatever that cheesy cliché is.
Stupid, hussy heart. Or maybe it’s just my lady bits doing the thinking?