Miles is saying that he’s missed me.That these last few days have been hilarious and surprising in every way.Then he says he needs to tell me something.And I’m sure my heart stops.Because I think I know where this conversation is going.And I can’t let him go on with his honesty without being completely honest and telling him first.
“I don’t want us to lose contact again,” he continues, slowly, looking into my eyes and meaning his words.“I think you were the first girl I ever had real feelings for.I know we were young.But what I’m trying to say is that you were really important to me.And I’m not even sure any girl after you made me feel the way you did about…”
My heart feels tight.I don’t know what I’ve been doing.It just feelswrong.I can’t hide it from him.So, I interrupt him.
“I’m engaged.”I blurt out, so fast I’m not even sure it was perceptible.
I said it before he could say anything else in that sentence.His eyes widened.And I can’t tell what’s going through his mind in those long, suspended seconds of silence between us.But I know he’s surprised, that’s an emotion his face can’t hide.
“Miles…” I start, after no reaction from his side.
“You’re engaged?”he finally lets out.
“I am engaged.”I lift my hand slightly and slowly.
“I haven’t noticed that,” he says to the ring.
He seems to remain calm, composed, and my brain seems to forget how to string sentences together.
“I’m happy for you.”He calmly rests his hands on the table and finally meets my eyes.“Who is he?”
I stand still, motionless.“His name is Bill.”I pause.His facial expression changes, and I know he realizes it was the phone call I took earlier.“We’ve been dating for over two years.”
“So, how did you two meet?”he asks.
“I…” I hesitate.I’m not sure I want to say this out loud.It all sounds soironic.“We met in college.”
But I don’t tell him it was at my college’s festival, the one I went to because of the band Miles and I once talked about seeing together.The one where I thought, after two years of not seeing Miles, that I might run into him.I found Bill because I went to it alone, pretending I wasn’t still holding onto hope of finding Miles.I’m living in Verryn, with my fiancé,becauseMiles once told me about a band.Becauseof plans Miles once made with me.But I don’t say any of that.
“We didn’t date right then,” I say instead.He doesn’t say a word, so I continue.“We became friends.”I try to read Miles’s body language.“And then we got closer.And now he proposed to me, two months ago.”
He remains silent.And that silence only seems to get heavier and heavier.How can I explain not having been able to fit in any conversation in the last three days about being engaged?I want to smack my hand against my forehead.
“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?”he asksthequestion, stepping carefully on the words, as if not wanting to cross a line and break the fragile floor.“Did you not want me to know?”
“No, I meant to tell you earlier.I don’t know.”
I really don’t know.It was not like I was dragging my feet on it.Was I overwhelmed?Was it strange that neither of us entered that topic of conversation?At first, it felt weird, then it was like I had forgotten there’s a world outside the bubble we’ve been living in these days.Today, when I spoke on the phone with Bill, I told myself it should be easy to tell Miles.
“I was going to tell you after the phone call today at the fountain, and then Asher and his parents showed up.Anyway, I’m sorry for not talking about it sooner.”
I don’t know what else to say.My mind is racing, my heart is pounding, my mouth can’t let any word pass by.Why am I feeling like this?
“No, it’s okay, you don’t have to say you’re sorry.”He exhales, not pressing on that.He sits up straight, looks into my eyes again, fiddles with his hands, and asks, “Are you happy with him?”
I swallow dry.Lately, I’ve been living in anautomatic car mode— just moving forward, without choosing my own gears.I know I need to change that.But I’ll work on it.My life’s put together back in Verryn.And here, we’re just inside a bubble.An unreal bubble.A bubble I can’t pretend to live in.
But that wasn’t what he was asking me.Right?
“I’m sorry.It was a stupid question.Of course you are,” he answers for me.And then silence takes over, lasting for what feels like an eternity.
The waiter comes to our table to get our order, unaware of the tension running through the cells of my body.Miles is a lake of tranquility, transparently serene, almost distant.He calmly gives our order while the waiter writes it down agreeably.
We still eat ourAmerican-style tacosand rate each other’s choices.
We still share our thoughts on New York City, as a lost tourist and a not-so-recent resident.
He still walks me back to my hotel.
