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I ordered my drink as Allison made room for me on the other side of her. But I saw how they had their hands intertwined in the darkness. It made me miss Clint. It made me want him here. I wanted someone to kiss. Someone to snuggle against. Someone’s hand to hold.
Specifically, his.
Michael whistled. “So what do you two want for dinner? It’s on me, by the way.”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
Allison giggled. “That’s so kind of you. Thank you.”
Michael chuckled. “Hey, it’s the least I can do.”
Allison smiled. “You do so much more than that, you know. You're just… very kind. In general. I like that.”
“Well, do you know what I like about you?”
I piped up. “What's that?”
The two of them looked at me before Allison’s cheeks flushed.
“Oh, sorry. Thought you were talking to me.”
I tossed them each a look before I buried myself back into the menu. I hated being that person. But I also wouldn't spend my entire dinner hour with them listening to their sickeningly disgusting flirting back and forth. Yes, I was happy for them. But they had to respect what I was going through. Because if the tables were turned, I would’ve done the same damn thing.
Respected their circumstances.
The waiter came by and took our orders. Michael ordered for Allison and she giggled like the schoolgirl she was. I murmured my order before tossing the menu back to the waiter and thanking him for the extra water. I felt empty. Dead. Dark, deep within the pit of my soul. I didn’t understand this kind of hurt. I’d never experienced it before. I mean, with my father, it wasn’t my fault. He left well before I had any memories of him. But Clint?
Maybe I’d done something to push him away.
Maybe I’m the reason he’s gone.
Michael cleared his throat. “So how’s that bike holding up?”
I whipped my head up. “Huh?”
Allison smiled softly. “Your bike. That’s how you got here, right?”
“Unless you took a taxi.”
“You know she hates taxis, Michael.”
“I mean, it’s an option. You never know.”
“You’re so silly.”
He smiled. “And you’re so cute.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I rode my bike. It’s a hunk of rusted junk, but it gets the job done.”
Allison giggled profusely. “That’s what she said.”
Michael snorted with laughter as I slowly panned my eyes over to her.
“What did you say?”
Allison smiled brightly. “Michael taught me those jokes. You know, using ‘that’s what she said’ behind a phrase that could technically be construed as… dirty.”
I snickered at the way she whispered ‘dirty.’ As if she’d be shot into the bowels of hell for saying it out loud.
