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The silence seems to stretch on forever. I grew up silenced, in an empty house, and now I’m driving in a silent car, toward my silent future.
We pull up in front of a restaurant I’ve never seen before, nestled in a silent little nook off the main road. The building is elegant and quietly imposing, with walls of dark red brick and white trim that glows in the moonlight. The windows are warmly lit from within, giving a cozy air to the otherwise intimidating exterior.
I step out of the car, my heeled boots clicking against the cobblestones as I walk towards the entrance. Harrison holds open the door for me, and we enter into a grand foyer with soft music playing in the background.
The hostess leads us to a small, white linen covered table in the corner of the restaurant. A whole row of forks beside my place setting shines under the low light of the flickering candles. I frown and glance around at the other diners, all of whom are probably older than my parents by twenty years.
He gives a broad, self-satisfied smile. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he says. “It’s just dinner.”
“I know. I’m not nervous.”
“You’re quiet.”
I quirk a brow. Is he serious? “Sorry.”
“I guess this is a little strange,” he continues. “Trying to have a first date when we’re already engaged.”
I shrug, my eyes darting away from his intense stare. “I guess so.”
“I suppose I would have spent more time trying to get to know you over the years,” he drawls. “but I couldn’t imagine it would be enjoyable to spend time with a child.”
He keeps smiling, like this is a completely understandable thing to say, and I grimace, struck momentarily dumb. I’m starting to miss the silence.
I look down at the menu to hide my discomfort, and my heart falls. It’s extensive, and I realize that I don’t recognize most of the dishes. Not for nothing, but I’ve traveled quite a bit, and been to my fair share of fancy restaurants over the years. Still, this is extreme.
Harrison seems to know what he wants, and I watch as the waiter arrives and he orders confidently, his voice smooth and practiced. I, on the other hand, can barely ask for a glass of wine. I speak Latin, Italian, and a smattering of Spanish, but no French.
The waiter nods patiently, and I can feel my cheeks heating. I motion to Harrison. “I’ll just have what he’s having.”
The waiter nods again and disappears as quickly as he arrived. Harrison watches him go, then turns back to me. “You didn’t want to try anything else?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I’m sure…” I don’t even bother to try and pronounce whatever we’re eating. “What you picked is the best.”
He beams at this, while I just pray it’s something edible.
* * *
Our food arrives, and I pick nervously at it, trying to work up the courage to mention school to Harrison. Nothing about the evening so far has implied it will go well, but if I don’t at least ask, I won’t know what my options are. Maybe I’m blowing this up in my mind to be worse than it is. Maybe he’s not expecting me to leave school at all?
I suck in a breath, and take a sip of Pinot Noir for courage. “You went to Elsinore, correct?”
“Yes.” He nods. “I enjoyed my fraternity and not much else.”
“Right, well, I’m really looking forward to next semester. I’m working on my thesis already. I’d love to show you my research if you’re interested, I—”
He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth and I break off, catching on to his clear confusion. My stomach sinks. Here’s the confirmation I knew was coming.
“Won’t you have a lot to do?” he asks. “What with the wedding and pledging?”
“Yes, but I’m very organized,” I laugh, and it comes out more hysterical than amiable. “Really, if you’d just take a look at my research, you’d see I can definitely handle taking on a lot at once.”
He nods slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Juliette.”
“Etta,” I correct, my throat already feeling tight.
He ignores me. “I don’t think—”
His phone rings, and we both jump. I’m startled mostly by the sound of the ringer—I hardly know anyone who leaves their ringers on anymore. I’m even more shocked when he pulls it out of his pocket and answers without a second thought. “Harrison Dane.”
