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“It’s Isaac. And you’re Sadie, right?”
“Correct. Okay, what’s this theory you have about me?” I wasn’t sure if he was flirting or passing the time, but either way, he’d struck up a conversation with me, and I was curious to see where he was going with this theory of his. I had theories about his theories.
He sighed and ran his finger around the rim of his glass. Coke with vanilla flavoring. That I remembered. Because that was how my brain worked. I knew his drink but not his name. “I’m thinking you just got out of a serious relationship, and this is you trying to dip your toes back in.”
I gave him a thumbs down. “No, I’m just all kinds of awkward. But thanks for playing.”
“Darn. And just so you know, I didn’t find you awkward, just a little bit sad about something. That’s why I thought we could commiserate.”
“You just got out of a relationship?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
He held up three fingers like a toddler.
“Three days?”
He laughed. “Three years. But that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
“Because we’re not commiserating.”
“Correct.”
My phone buzzed again, and I glanced at my bag before concentrating back on Isaac.
“You can check that.”
“No, it’s fine. How the heck were you in a relationship for three years?”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”
“You were trying to be polite because you assumed I wouldn’t want to hear about it. If I change my mind, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
“I bet you will.” He smiled, and then it morphed into something more serious. “She broke off our engagement earlier this year. And immediately started dating her boss. She’s getting married to him this weekend.”
“Ouch. So that’s why you’re here flirting with me.”
His eyes widened. “No. No, this is not me angling for a rebound. At least… not consciously.” He looked so introspective about it that I had to laugh.
“What’s her name? Then I can hate her for you properly.”
“Antonia. But everyone calls her Toni.”
“See. I hate her already.”
My phone buzzed again. And then again.
“What if it’s a guy?” Isaac nudged his chin towards my bag. “Just check it.”
“It’s not a guy,” I assured him, but my brain immediately started wondering if it could be Denver. He had no reason to text me on a Thursday evening, but he was definitely the type to send texts in threes.
My phone buzzed again. Or fours.
“Okay, fine.” I pulled out my phone.
Denver:
