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“Hello to you too,” she mumbles.
“I don’t want to interrupt you,” I say.
“What’s happening at five?”
I march close to her and say, “A date.” Then I kiss her on the cheek before I leave.
* * *
Siobhan
Iskander doesn’t just take me on a date to the sports bar. He takes me on a date to Seattle. He called in a few favors and got us into Norin, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the area. We’re on the patio under the blanket of stars illuminated by candlelights, drinking a bottle of Moët & Chandon.
“Thank you for… dinner.”
“Date,” he says. “We’re on a date.”
“I haven’t agreed to this summer fling.”
“You can’t blame me for trying,” he states.
“Does everybody say yes to you?”
A smile plays on his lips. The mischievous glint in his eyes makes my heart skip a few beats. “Not really, but I’m pretty persuasive. I learned at a young age that if you work hard for what you want, you obtain it. Here I am, wanting to spend more time with you. And hopeful that someday in the near future you’ll say yes to my proposal.”
“Dating my boss?” I laugh. “Such a cliché.”
He extends his hand, grabbing mine and squeezing it. “I could tell you more about myself. Like I have four siblings. I’m the oldest. We were born in Luna Harbor but left when I was almost nine. Dad wanted us to see the world.”
I laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“Some people leave Luna Harbor thinking there’s something better while others come to live here knowing this place is paradise,” I say.
“Is that why you moved to Luna Harbor?”
“In a way,” I confess. “I wanted to get off the hamster wheel. Having a farm where I could raise goats and make products from their milk sounded good at the time.”
He gives me a look.
“It sounds crazy, but it was a dream. Things worked out differently, and it’s okay. I like what I do and where I live,” I say, taking another sip of champagne. “You know what they say, ‘shoot for the moon, and you might land on a star.’”
We eat and drink for the rest of the evening. When we arrive in Luna Harbor, he says, “What’s it going to take to get you to say yes?”
“I like to know what to expect,” I answer. “What do you think will happen if I say yes?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t guarantee anything. In my experience, life never goes the way you expect. My grandmother died when Dad was twenty. She had promised to be with Abuelo forever, but she didn’t know she was sick. Mom promised forever too, but she left us when I was eight.”
I cup his face. This is what’s under that arrogant smirk. A hurt boy who doesn’t think forever happens. Because it’s true.
People leave.
They move on.
Nothing is static, not even love.
You have to move on before you’re the one left behind.
