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I’m so sorry, beautiful. I didn’t have any signal out in the sticks, and now I’m stuck behind two car wrecks. I wish I were joking. I love you. Believe me, this isn’t how I wanted to spend our anniversary. I think I’ll be ten more minutes.
It’s okay, I reply. I’ve got the table for us anyway.
Are you sure you don’t mind waiting? I feel like an ass.
Relax, Sam. This isn’t our first date. I’m not judging you.
It doesn’t matter if it’s our first or our thousandth, he replies. My wife always deserves respect. The mother of my children always deserves respect.
I know you respect me, silly. You can’t help phone signal or traffic. I love you, and I can’t wait to see you. If you need any motivation to get here quicker, I’m wearing that dress you bought me last week.
A sizzling sensation shivers over my skin when I think about his response. There was a time when I was nervous about exciting my man. I wasn’t sure if I could match his intensity, but now, confidence floods me instead. I know how obsessed I make him. I don’t have to guess.
Goddamn, I’d run to you if I thought it’d get me there any quicker. You look beautiful.
You’re not even here, LOL. Maybe I look terrible.
I don’t have to be there to know you look beautiful. Traffic is starting to move. See you soon.
See you soon. Love you.
I change the text thread to Mom. Everything okay at home?
Everything is FINE, Mom replies. I’m guessing the capitals have something to do with how mother-bear nervous I get every time Sam and I have a night out. Enjoy your evening and no more texts.
No more texts… That’s a difficult challenge for me. Texting is how this all started, after all. I know that it has its downsides. It removes facial expressions. It can make things awkward when people misunderstand one another. However, it also lets people be far more honest, more open, and more vulnerable than they might be able to be otherwise.
Since I’m on a texting ban, I look around the restaurant at nothing in particular. I freeze when I see the lady staring at me. She’s on the other side of the room. People are walking back and forth, but she keeps staring. She has dyed hair, and as she rises from her table and walks across the room, I’m pretty sure I recognize her.
She stops in front of my table. “Uh, hello,” she says in a British accent, tilting her head. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I…” Narrowing my eyes, I look closely at her. Then it clicks. “Wait a second. Did we have a conversation in the cafeteria of a certain dreary office building once?”
“Yes, bingo!” she says. “I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for getting involved in your business. I was… Well, I’m three years sober now. I remember we argued. I know I was very judgmental about your relationship.”
I wave a hand, remembering how mad I got, storming out of the cafeteria. “It’s fine, honestly. It’s nice of you to apologize. Well done on being sober.”
“How did it go in the end?” she asks.
“It’s still going,” I smile. “We’re married now. In fact, today is our anniversary.”
“And you’re…”
“Happy,” I tell her, reading the emotion in her eyes. “Happier than I’d ever dreamed I would be, honestly.”
“It’s strange. I met your husband once. Just a short while before we met. I’m sure it was him…”
“Crazily tall, very muscular, salt and pepper hair? His name’s Sam.”
“Yes, that’s him! When he told me he wanted a younger woman, I didn’t think it would work, but look at you. You’re happier than I’ve ever been, that’s for sure. I won’t take up any more of your time. I just wanted to say that I was sorry… and congratulations.”
“Wait a second,” I say when she’s about to turn away. “You met Sam?”
She nods. “I was at a bar with a friend. He was sitting alone, looking miserable. He told us he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. I was pretty vicious toward him when I learned your age. I think I called him a cradle robber.”
Protective instincts try to make me snap, but her tone is too apologetic.
“I was wrong,” she goes on. “I can see that now. When your husband arrives, please tell him I’m sorry.”
“I doubt he even remembers it,” I reply, “but thank you. I mean that.”
She returns to her table, leaving me to ponder her words. He said, back then, I was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. This was way before we said that to each other. It’s just more evidence we belong together.
