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“It’s a long ride.” Parker cleared his throat, creating no traction in anyone’s response. If I could, I’d pull him by the ear, I’d scold him for such a stupid approach. And to think I’d possibly confess my feelings once again, to be vulnerable like an idiot.
You trust a man and trust you’ll be disappointed.The lingering words Claire once said came flooding back into my head. She was right again, her stupid words like unwelcome fortune cookies. Fuck, I wanted to scream. Was there something to it? One of these days I’d get too close, I’d get hurt just like her and maybe I’d snap. I touched my neck, the thickness forming at the fear she caused. I had to protect myself; I was all I had, all I could trust.
I relaxed my face to hide the expression of doubt as the elevator opened. When we stepped out, our bodies were illuminated by the glow of scattered string lights and tabletop candles. This was the mood I prepared for, my dress enhanced by the floral surroundings and quaint trees which sprouted from the concrete like magic.
“Do you like it?” Parker asked, looking back at me.
Yes, Parker, this surprise suckerpunch was fantastic. Another please.
A hostess in a uniformed black vest greeted us at the podium, thumbing through menus.
“It’s what I imagined.” I said, giving a partial truth. I imagined much more, including a kiss, but not the one I witnessed.
“What more could you want?” Camilla chimed in, gesturing her arms toward the beautiful rooftop and fantastic views, “I know you’re used to pizza slices, but I think you’ll like this much better.” How much did Parker say about me? Camilla’s tone was so flat, as if pointing out my taste was simple—simple like how I was made to feel before walking inside.
“Pizza is simple. Simple’s a luxury. Right, Park?” I mirrored his sentiment from earlier, watching as he chewed his lip nervously. It seemed as if he regretted his surprise plan. We were both at opposite ends on romantic feelings, that much was clear.
“It is.” He assured, his shoulders tightened, bracing as Camilla held him close. I knew I should’ve been happy for Parker, hell, I’d been telling him to find someone great, how he should live a normal life. And while he may have found his someone, I never truly thought he’d find that person unless it were me. A disappointed sob choked in the back of my throat, thick but not threatening enough to my restraint. I forced a smile.
“My apologies,” the waiter presented a small table, “the reservation was only made for two.” He looked over at Parker, “This is the only table left, I’m not sure if it will seat three…”
“Mila?” Parker asked, “What happened?”
“A mistake, but a small one,” she beamed, watching me curiously, “I must have been on autopilot when I called in. You know how busy it can be working a full-time job?” She spoke to me, as if she knew I was unemployed. She didn’t forget, this was on purpose. Parker stood by my side as a chair arrived, and we all took our seats. I immediately opened the drink menu, knowing the Cabernet would never cut it.
“Parker, babe,” Camilla craned her neck, “You know what to order if they come by. Don’t forget the Mignonette sauce and extra lemons.” She pursed her lips, “I need to fix my face.” She winked, almost laughing before leaving us alone. I wish she had stayed, I could have fixed it for her. I was about to scold Parker when I immediately got the strange whiff of pungent fish and ocean tide.
“Wait, this is an oyster bar?” I frantically flipped through the menu.
“It’s Mila’s favorite…” He was slow to respond.
I laughed, but the corners of my lip twitched as I nodded. Of course it was her favorite, a romantic New York view meant for Parker and her alone.
“Since when do you like this type of food? I thought you didn’t like oysters or slimy things or… seafood for that matter?” I asked flustered, seriously questioning the man I’d known for twenty plus years.
“You’re not wrong.” He winced, but almost pleaded with his eyes. “I’m trying something new though and I figured it was something we could suffer through together. Besides, I want to make a good impression.” He closed the menu, “You’ve been obsessed with this idea that living with me will somehow ruin my life. That somehow it’ll prevent me from living some definition you have on how I should be.”
“That’s not what I meant, and not what I pictured.”
“And how’s that? You’ve reminded me any chance you got. You made it clear that this was important.”
“Are you happy?” I looked around, knowing this was not the scene Parker and I were used to. Yes, we were simple; yes, we ate pizza and watched horror movies; but that wasn't wrong, and now I felt like I messed up.
“I told you I was happy, and things would be fine, but I felt like I had to prove it. I thought you’d be relieved about this. You talk about me being with a nice girl, and I feel like this could be that chance, right? Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“Yes?” I said half unconvincingly.
“Tell me I’m wrong, and we’ll go home. I’ll make an excuse. But just tell me the truth.”
He looked at me with an unfamiliar stare that both questioned and challenged my beliefs. I wasn't sure if I wanted to say yes, or ifhewanted me to say yes. But I couldn’t, not without implications or Claire’s foreboding words in my head. I failed to be brave, unable to muster the courage, just like I had in the closet before leaving.
“You’re right, Park.” I shook my head, “Of course, this is great. Thanks for bringing me out tomeetyour girlfriend.” It pained me to hear just as much to say it. It all made sense now, the breakfast and salmon. Parker was prepping his pallet for another woman, one to show off. “There’s only one problem,” I shifted in my seat, “remember the Hamptons as kids? We ate that godforsaken fish we thought was a good idea to catch from your dock? I totally got sick that summer, you even had to hold my hair!”
“That’s different than oysters, you ate cod that night. Plus, it didn’t help that we ate an entire bag of licorice that day.” He wasn’t wrong. “Also, I called ahead, they do have a filet mignon for you, I made sure of it before agreeing to this place.” He bargained, “Please just try this with me, and if you hate it, I swear we can both chow down on pizza after this. Simple. Luxury.” I didn't need to have oysters to know I didn't like them. Little cold shells with slimy blobs. They were the cum of the ocean.
“Promise?” I asked, knowing he could never break his word.
“I promise, if you do, too.”
