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"Or maybe he’s hitting on me because he knows I don’t have many," I replied nervously. I was just spouting off all my insecurities, and I knew they sounded crazy coming out of my mouth, but I needed to have someone there to stand by and tell me that I was okay, that this was going to be fine. It didn’t help that I had yet to see him in person. I could have put this to the back of my mind had we actually spent some time together, had we actually felt the chemistry that I was so sure that we shared.
"You need to start treating yourself with a little more kindness," she warned me. "You’re my best friend, and I’m afraid I won’t stand for people being mean to you, alright? You’ve found someone. He likes you. He’s not doing this for any reason other than that."
"You sure you’re not paying him off?" I asked, half-joking.
"What do I look like, I’m made of money?" She replied. "Even if I could, I wouldn’t have to. You’re a catch, Abigail, you need to stop being so hard on yourself."
"I’ll try," I promised her, and I supposed that I meant it. I needed to start believing that I was actually worth this man’s attention, even though I couldn’t figure out why he was so interested in me.
He liked me. He liked me a lot.
And I liked him a lot right on back.
We talked about books and movies, where we’d grown up – it turned out that he lived not far from the school I taught at, and we shared a few favorite memories of the place. He was smart and eloquent and seemed to actually want to put in the time to get to know me, and he was good at keeping up a conversation. So many of the guys on this app just seemed to hit a wall at a certain point and would run out of things to say to me, offering up nothing but useless platitudes. I didn’t have that problem with Joseph. He was curious to know every detail of my life, and I was flattered that he seemed to have such an interest in me.
It was that evening, about two weeks after we had started talking, that he dropped the bombshell – he wanted to meet with me.
"I’m going to be back on shore at the end of next week," He explained. "I was hoping that I might be able to take you out for dinner. Or drinks. Or maybe both."
I smiled when I looked at the message and tried to quell the swell of nerves that came as soon as I took in what he was saying. I could play at being this cool, clever version of myself over messages, but I had no idea if I was going to be able to make that work when I actually saw him in person. Would I just be stumbling over my words, useless, making a fool of myself?
I could hear Mallory’s voice in my head, telling me to get on with it and to tell him that I wanted to meet him and that I would just love the chance to spend some time with him out in the real world, but my fingers seemed to have turned to lead and I had no idea how to express any of that to him at that moment. I dumped my phone on the table, and instead sat there, working on my glass of wine.
I should have just pulled myself together and said yes to him. I liked talking to him, and I was attracted to him, and I was sure that those things were only going to become more true once I actually saw him in person, but still, I was having trouble telling myself that this was the right choice. There was a part of me, I supposed, a not-so-small part of me, that was worried that I was leading him on. I couldn’t have kids, I couldn’t have a family of my own, shouldn’t I have come out and told him that? Or would that have been way too much way too soon? I wished someone could just hand me a set of rules that I could use so that I wouldn’t make a total ass of myself around him.
As I worked my way through the glass of wine, I started wondering – was this how it was always going to feel when I was around new people? When I met new guys? Would I always have that doubt in my mind, the fear that I wasn’t enough for them, and that they should have been allowed to know that sooner rather than later? The scars my ex had left on me were still just as powerful as they had ever been, and I hated myself for letting my mind give in to them. I couldn’t keep living in the past. I had to look forward. It was time to accept that I had a future in front of me, and that I wasn’t willing to hold back on it any further.
I grabbed my phone and looked at his message again. Suddenly, I felt a little rush of excitement run down my spine. It felt like sparkles, lighting up my whole body, and I couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since I had allowed myself to feel that about anyone – for the most part, accepting real sweetness, real romance into my life had only brought struggle, the reminder of what I was unable to do. But this seemed different. Maybe I was just being naïve, maybe I was crazy for believing that things would be different this time around, but I did. I wanted to. I was ready, God knew how ready, just to let go of everything I had been holding back on all this time and let myself have a little fun for a change.
It seemed like it took me about a straight half-hour to put together a message that I actually wanted to send him. How to sound interested, but not so interested that it came off as desperation? I didn’t like the idea of putting him off with my keenness, but I didn’t want him to think that I was just doing this out of boredom, out of lack of a better option presenting itself. Because thatsowasn’t the case.
Finally, I felt like I had landed on something I could be happy with. I looked it over again, and bit my lip – now, I just had to send it to him. I wondered if he was out there, surrounded by the slightly peeling walls of the break room that he had sent me pictures of the day before, staring at his phone, waiting for my message, waiting to hear from me again after all this time. I liked the thought of that. I knew it was a little self-involved, but I wanted him to be thinking about me. I wanted him wondering about my state of mind, what I was doing, what I was thinking, whether I felt the same way about him that he did about me.
Well, I did. And I had no intention of playing hard to get a moment longer. Taking a deep breath, I sent the text – just a casual,sure, I’d love to, where were you thinking? -and watched as it zoomed off into the annals of the metaverse, to be carried across the sea towards him. I watched the screen for a moment or two longer, waiting for the blip that would tell me that it had reached him alright, and sure enough, there it was.
I clasped my phone to my chest and closed my eyes. Yes, I was nervous. Yes, I was already freaking out about this. And yes, I was already wondering if I hadn’t just somehow managed to send the stupidest text in all of recorded history and not have noticed it. But for now, I had something to look forward to. I had a date on the way. And not one part of me could wait.
Chapter six
Let me worship your body
Istaredatmynails. Should I have picked a different color?
I had gone for dark blue, but maybe I should have shot for something more girly – a pale pink, perhaps? No, I was too old for that these days. Perhaps a vampy red? Ugh, like I could actually pull off anything that was meant to be sexy...
I clasped my hands in my lap and drew my attention away from them. I needed to calm all the way down and relax. This was what dating again did to me, apparently, got me shooting off in a million different directions about all the choices that I should have made differently before I came out here to meet Joseph for the first time.
Checking my watch for the fiftieth time since I had arrived, I chewed on my lip. I had left the house early, since I had never been to this bar that he had suggested before and I didn’t want to turn up late, but as it transpired, I was there fifteen minutes early. Maybe that would come across as too keen? I couldn’t tell.
It doesn’t matter,I tried to soothe myself.You are keen. No need to hide from that.
I didn’t believe it.
The bar he had chosen for us couldn’t have been more perfect; I was surprised that I had never come across it before in all the time I had spent in Inverness. It was set on the ground floor of the hotel that stood next to the train station, and the whole place was cloaked out in gorgeous reds and golds, the chairs upholstered with a haughty clan tartan, and stuffed stag heads mounted on every wall. It was quiet, but not so quiet that I had to worry about some exposé in the Courier about rats in the kitchen or something. Just a little hidden gem, a part of the city that I had never known about before I’d met him. I had to admit, he was already doing pretty well.
Mallory had helped me pick out an outfit for the night, and I liked what I was wearing – despite my silly panic over my nails. It was a short black dress that flicked out around the thighs and showed off a little leg, but not too much. I wanted to look like I at least had a little self-respect to hang on to, even though I had understood the termpanty-dropperas soon as I had seen him for the very first time.
God, I was excited.
