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Natalie flagged the waiter with one hand and put some of her fries on a napkin in front of Hazel. “Wait. Who is this guy?”
***
Hazel wasn’t really showing yet, but her stomach was definitely not as firm as it had been, and she was grateful that it was sweater weather now. At every opportunity, she drowned herself in long-sleeved, fuzzy numbers and slipped on leggings or sweatpants to top off the outfit. She would be concerned that this style might give her away, but she’d seen dozens of other harried girls rushing to and from finals, all dressed the same way.
Unfortunately, Ian’s taste for the extravagant left her with the undesirable task of dressing up for the evening. He’d insisted on going out now that the semester was over and had promised that no one would see them. She didn’t know if she believed him, but she had two options here, and one of them would definitely reveal their secret… That was, if they stayed together.
Hazel dug through her wardrobe and selected a gray sweater dress with blackbirds embroidered on it. That way she could still wear her tights and have the fabric hanging loose around her. While she was dressing, Natalie came in, offering help with hair and makeup. The result, Hazel hoped, was somewhat put together.
Since Natalie already knew everything, Hazel let Ian pick her up at her apartment, and Natalie gave her a hug for support before Hazel headed down to the street. Hazel hated conflict. She hated talking about this after he’d already rebuffed her. But she had to make some decisions, and it had to be now.
She said little on the way to the restaurant. She didn’t know how to bring it up. How could she start this conversation again? Instead, she listened to him talking about how the philanthropic wing of his business was shaping up, and how he expected she would be a crucial part of making this work.
Great, no pressure there, Hazel thought.
To her surprise, though maybe she shouldn’t have been, the restaurant was empty. He’d bought it out for the night. The lights glowed dimly, and the host guided them to a table overlooking an expansive garden. It was lovely. It was intimate.
And she was going to ruin it.
“It’s good to have you alone,” Ian said, touching her fingers from across the table. “I’m sorry that we haven’t been able to spend as much time together the past few weeks.”
“That’s as much my fault as yours,” Hazel admitted.
“Still. I know I can get involved in my projects.” Ian gestured to the waiter, and the man poured wine for the both of them. Ian lifted his glass and nodded to Hazel. “To the end of the semester, and to all the new beginnings before us.”
God, how fitting was that? She lifted her glass, firmly repeating the advice she’d gotten from the clinic on campus the day before, that she could have one glass. And only one. It wasn’t even that tempting, other than to settle her nerves. She took a small sip it and then set her glass down.
“So now that it’s the end of the semester,” Hazel said, her voice shaking a little, “can we talk about these ‘future things’ that you want to put off? I know it isn’t your ideal circumstance, but we need to address us.”
Ian pressed his lips together and folded his fingers in front of him. He looked stern, almost like the teacher he no longer was to her. Hazel unfolded her napkin and sighed. She could hear gentle string music in the background. This was such a nice night.
“There’s simply no benefit to ignoring the fact that we have a relationship, Ian. A-and I’ve told you that I love you. I do.” Hazel swallowed hard. “I just need a timeline. Some kind of if/then scenario. If we continue this path, where are we going? Do you want to continue this path?”
“I think I’ve made it clear, Hazel, that I’d like things to continue. Would it be nice for us to have a public relationship? Yes, but that simply isn’t our reality.”
He was talking down to her. The change in his tone angered her. He was deliberately changing the subject or avoiding what he knew she wanted, and he was trying to sound older and superior.
“I never asked for this to go public. I’m not a stock option,” Hazel snapped. “I’m asking if you love me. I’m asking: do you want this to be a committed relationship, now or in the near future? I cannot be more direct. Obviously, I want us to be exclusive, to make plans together, at some point to live together. I’m not certain how I feel about marriage as an institution, which is fine, because I’d get why you might be hesitant to marry again so soon. That’s not important to me.”
Hazel placed her napkin back on the table. “You and I are what is important to me. And I need some kind of confirmation of that.”
