Bridget
Malik is gone when I wake and I hate that part of me feels relieved.
We spent all night cuddling and it was really nice to be close to him in that way.
It felt like us, but the other parts? Those didn’t.
It was short and sweet, not that I minded too much because the thought of it dragging out felt wrong—fake, even.
We should’ve just left it at dinner, but I’m not sure he feels the same going by the text that waits for me on my phone.
Malik
I had a great time last night. I hope we can do it again sometime soon
I lie on my back, look up at the ceiling, and sigh.
I feel conflicted.
On one hand, I had a great night with him, and spending time with him is always so rewarding. But on the other hand, it’s just not what I hoped it would be. Things with Malik were supposed to be easy and relaxing, not causing me high levels of stress and anxiety.
It’s meant to be different, and to say I’m disappointed is an understatement.
My phone buzzes but I don’t want to look in case it’s Malik sending a follow-up text, not that he usually does…but we don’t usually fuck each other, so who knows?
It could be Imani asking how the date went, and that’s almost worse.
Even though she gave me the green light to go ahead and see if there was something between us, I still feel guilty I’m feeling this way.
What if she gets upset that I don’t feel the same way, or that I’ve just fucked her brother and tossed him to the side?
What if, all of a sudden, she’s not cool with the fact we slept together and decides she can’t be friends with me anymore.
I decide to be brave and check the message that waits for me at the top of my screen and I blink. It’s an unknown number, and before I even read the message, I get a niggling, slightly hopeful, feeling that it’s who has been on my mind for the past week.
Elias
Hey wifey. I need rescuing! Are you free for brunch? What I want to talk about is better said face to face. E
I sit upright and grab my phone, rereading over the message at least four times before I can type out a reply.
Me
Consider me intrigued. Name the time and place and I’ll be there.
Elias replies promptly, and as soon as I read his message about where we’re meeting, I hop out of bed and jump into the shower.
He sends me the address for a small, independent coffee shop in North Vancouver, which looks incredibly cute if the pictures online are anything to go by.
I’m not sure what the vibe is, but seeing as it’s still rather hot, I opt for a pair of dark green linen pants and a cream tank top.
It’s the second week of September and even though there’s a slight chill in the air, it’s still not sweater weather.
My lack of sleep from last night is noticeable by the bags that are swooping under my eyes but it’s nothing a little concealer can’t fix.
It’s too hot to wear heavy makeup, otherwise it’ll slide off my face so I opt for something that makes me look I haven’t just walked off the set of The Walking Dead.
I decide to take my car instead of relying on the train because I don’t have much wiggle room to get there for our meeting time, which is soon approaching. The drive takes longer than expected due to construction, but I still make it there with a few minutes to spare.
The café sits on the corner of a quieter street, about ten minutes away from Lower Lonsdale. The floor-to-ceiling windows are open, allowing a breeze to flow through the small and cozy building.
I spot Elias sitting at one of the booths near the back. He’s looking down at his hands that rest on the table with a small frown on his face. He looks good in his loose-fitting pale blue button down. The sleeves are short and show off his rather large biceps.
As I walk into the building, the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies and pastries fill my nostrils, and I inhale the delicious aroma. Elias spots me as I approach the table, and when he stands, it takes me a moment to adjust to his height—I don’t remember him being this much taller than me.
“Hey, you made it,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss on my right cheek while resting his hand on my waist. “You look great.”
So do you. I look down at his dark brown shorts that cut off an inch or two above the knee.
“Likewise.”
He smiles, and butterflies erupt in my stomach, and all of a sudden I don’t know how to think. The sunlight caresses his golden skin, the warm beams illuminating his eyes. The dark brown irises I’m familiar with now look more of a dark amber colour, the sun highlighting the golden hues.
Elias gestures toward the table, and as I sit down a waitress comes over. We both order coffee and I also order one of their chocolate-almond croissants.
Once our food and drinks arrive, Elias leans forward and takes in a deep breath. “Sorry for dragging you here on such short notice,” he begins. “I hope it didn’t inconvenience you too much.”
I shake my head as I take a bite of the flaky croissant, I roll my eyes and let out a moan as the sweet flavours flood my senses. “Oh god, that’s tasty,” I mumble as I swallow. “You didn’t, don’t worry. What is it you wanted to talk about anyway?”
As I look up, I see Elias has his gaze trained directly on my mouth, and I feel self-conscious there might be some food on the corner of my lips. I quickly wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and that seems to snap him out of his trance.
“My mom found out about our…engagement,” he says slowly. “And she’s insisting you come over for lunch so she can meet you. I tried to tell her it was a misunderstanding but she didn’t give me much of a chance to speak. Anyway, I told her about you and now she wants to meet you.”
My eyes widen as he speaks. “When?”
He blushes as he looks away, his hand scratching the back of his neck. “In an hour.”
“An hour?” I look down at my outfit. “Elias, I’m not prepared! We know nothing about each other! I—This is different than before, this is your family,” I whisper frantically.
He nods. “I know, I know. I’m sorry to do this to you, but she looked so happy…
and I didn’t want to disappoint her.” Elias pauses.
“Listen, all I need you to do is pretend you like me enough to want to be engaged to me for just one meal. Then we can leave it for a few weeks and say it didn’t work out and we called it off.
Like Isobel said last week, it doesn’t have to be some elaborate breakup. ”
I take a sip of my coffee. “Just the once?”
“Just the once, I promise.” The small, yet hesitant smile that touches his lips is endearing. “I really need your help, Bridget. What do you say, one more show for the road?”
I can’t help but mimic his expression as I shake my head gently, almost in a state of disbelief. “Let’s do it.”