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“They live close by?” he asks. And even though I’m not sure why he wants to know, I answer him anyway. He’s probably trying to be polite and make conversation.
“About forty-five minutes outside of the city.”
“And what about your mom?” My heart sputters slightly in my chest. Most everyone I know already knows about my mom. I can’t remember the last time someone asked me about her.
“She passed away when I was fifteen.” I turn my gaze down to the unopened menu laying on the table in front of me.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” The sincerity in his voice is unmistakable.
“Thanks,” I murmur, flipping open the menu. “It was a long time ago.”
Thankfully the waitress chooses this moment to appear to take our drink orders and I get out of having to say more. It’s not that I mind talking about my mom. I don’t. I just don’t think now is the time for such a heavy conversation.
Even though I had no intention of drinking when I arrived, when the waitress’s attention falls to me, I order a glass of wine. If I have to sit next to Abel for the next hour or two, I’m going to need it.
“So Abel, Aaron tells me you’re recently back from California,” Henna chimes in the moment the waitress’s focus shifts to the other end of the table. “How was that?”
“It was okay.” He shrugs, turning his attention from his menu to Henna.
“If I lived in California I would probably be on the beach every single day. Did you live close to the ocean?”
“I was actually staying with our brother, Alex.” He gestures to the dark-haired man a couple seats down from him. “He only lives a few miles from the beach.”
“And you came back to the windy city, why? If I ever had the courage to go, I don’t think I’d ever come back.”
“I knew it was temporary when I went. I had a few things to, um, work out.” He chooses his words carefully, clearly having no idea that we already know about his wife. “Chicago’s my home. It was never a question ofifI came back, simplywhen.”
“And we’re glad to have you home,” Aaron chimes into the conversation.
I glance at Abel out of the corner of my eye, not missing the silent exchange that happens between the two brothers.
“So,” Henna continues when silence falls over our side of the table. “What’s everyone getting? Everything looks so good.”
“They have the best lobster here,” Aaron tells her, leaning in unnecessarily close to show her where the lobster is on the menu.
Little does he know, Henna hates seafood.
“What else?” she asks, choosing not to tell him of her dislike.
“Well, the filet is pretty spot on. And the garlic mashed potatoes it comes with are killer.”
“Do you eat here often?” I ask Aaron, not missing how well versed he seems to be with the menu.
“This is one of our parent’s favorite restaurants,” Abel answers. “We used to eat here at least once a month growing up.”
“So then, what doyousuggest?” Henna asks Abel, leaning forward slightly in her seat.
“I personally prefer the Porterhouse Steak. And Aaron’s not wrong about the mashed potatoes. They are pretty amazing.”
“What about something that won’t clog my arteries and didn’t come from the sea?” she asks.
“I think the word you’re looking for is salad,” Abel says, causing me to bark out a laugh.
I lift my hand to my mouth to stifle the noise, not missing the glare Henna throws my way.
“I’m sorry.” I push out through my subsiding giggles. “That was pretty funny.” My gaze slides to Abel and the moment my eyes meet his crisp blue ones my chest tightens.
God, he’s so good looking it almost hurts.
