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“My mom wants me to invite Eric to dinner soon.”
“Oh, what’d you say?” she asks.
“Yes…”
“You’re so smitten over him. I love it!”
“I know, he’s just so…” I trail off.
“Gentlemanly?”
“Yeah, more than any other guy I’ve dated.”
“I believe it,” she says.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’ve never seen you smile with others the way you do with him.”
“Do you think these feelings are too sudden?” I ask.
“If it feels right, I don’t think so.”
“Talk soon?”
“Love you, Boo,” she responds, hanging up.
* * *
Every single bonein my body wants him. It’s like he has this spell over me, this hold. When he looks at me, all I feel is goosebumps, but my heart is also calmer around Eric than with any other man I’ve dated. My mom tells me that’s a sign of someone being “the one.”
I’ve spent countless nights lying awake, replaying our conversations and reliving the moments we’ve shared. It’s as if each word he speaks has a way of imprinting itself deep on my soul, creating a connection that goes beyond the surface. His laughter is my melody, and his smile is the sun breaking through the darkest of my clouds.
How can someone ignite such a fierce longing within me and, at the same time, make me feel safe and understood? Perhaps my mom is right. Maybe the calmness I feel in his presence is a sign that he’s the missing piece I’ve been searching for. It’s not about the fireworks that explode upon every encounter, though that is there, too. Rather, the steady warmth that radiates when our eyes meet.
Tying my hair up into a high ponytail, I take one last look in the mirror, make a silly, kissy face, and laugh. I head out the door and leave to pick up Eric for dinner with my mom.
* * *
As the sundips below the horizon, Eric and I pull into the driveway. Our relationship has yet to be officially labeled, but the undeniable connection between us is electric. He takes my hand, and as we enter my mom’s house, the familiar scent of lavender fills the air.
With a charming smile, Eric extends a bouquet of pink roses for my mother.
“Thank you, Eric. These are beautiful.” She excuses herself, disappearing into the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers.
Alone in the cozy living room, Eric and I settle into the plush couch, surrounded by memories of Ray.
“I remember my mischievous childhood, how I used to sneakily raid Ray’s lunch box as soon as he’d return from work, nabbing his leftover snacks.”
Eric chuckles. “Sounds like you were quite the little snack bandit.”
I laugh. “Oh, I definitely was.”
Just then, mom calls out, “Hailey, Eric, dinner is ready.”
My stomach growls as she speaks those words. Eric raises a brow, smirking. “Damn girl, did you eat at all today?”
“Shut up.” I laugh. He stands up and grabs my hand, helping me up before we head to the kitchen. Eric pulls out a chair, gesturing for me to sit.
