My body tenses up as we pull away, though she keeps hold of my hands. Daisy is smiling until her eyes, once again, land on my date. The smile fades and she scowls at him. It's how a lot of people in the service industry tend to respond to Peter. “I'll be right back to take your order,” Daisy says, scurrying away to the kitchen once more.
I can't see the back of the restaurant since there's a partition in the way, but my mind is buzzing, and my pulse is racing. Who would want to see me? I'm overcome by a wave of thought and emotion and none of it makes any sense. It couldn't be him. No, it simply couldn't be. The odds of him being here on the same night I am – after all these years – it defies logic and rationality. I think I'd stand a better chance of getting hit by lightning.
I bite my lip as I try to decide whether or not I should walk back there, or just sit down with Peter again.
“Sydney?” Peter asks.
I hardly hear his voice. As if I have no control over my body, my feet are moving before I can stop myself. I mutter to Peter over my shoulder.
“I'm going to use the restroom,” I say.
The bathroom is located back there, but that's not where I'm going. After what Daisy said, I find myself drawn to the back of the restaurant. It’s like I'm being pulled by some magnetic field that I can't break free from. Not that I'm trying very hard. Part of me wants to see if it could be him.
My heart is hammering inside of me and I'm curious, perhaps even excited, but also nervous at the same time. I walk slowly, almost too slowly. People stare, or maybe it's my imagination. I don't know. I reach the partition and step around it, and right away, our eyes meet, and I feel a powerful jolt of electricity tear through my body.
His blue eyes were always the best part about him, and even now with a scruffy beard and a chiseled jaw line, I can't stop staring into those painfully familiar baby blues. My heart skips a beat, and my knees are weak. Feeling faint and like I might fall, I grab onto the partition to hold myself up. Seeing that I'm about to topple over, he stands up and walks toward me.
Damn. He got hot. Not that he was homely before, but as he comes toward me, I can see that his body is toned and ripped now. He's obviously someone who still works out. His dark brown hair is cut short to his head – as opposed to when he was younger and kept it long and wild. The beard is rugged and unexpected but is kind of nice. I can't explain it, but it somehow suits him, sort of softening up his face a bit.
He strolls toward me in tight jeans and a black t-shirt, and then I notice the shadow behind him. A chocolate lab follows closely behind, and I can't help but smile. Jack always did have a soft spot for dogs.
“Sydney, is that really you?” his voice is deep and gravely, lower than I remember it to be.
“It is,” I say, still feeling dumbstruck – I mean, what are the odds? A smile pulls at the corners of my mouth that's so wide, it almost makes my face hurt. I can't help it, even though I know happiness is the last thing I should feel right now. A pit forms in my stomach as we stand, in silence, staring at one another in the restaurant that's as familiar and comforting as Jack's blue eyes.
“I thought I'd never see you again, Jack.”
Running a hand through his short hair, he looks away. Briefly. “Didn't you get the letter I sent you?” he asks. “Back about five years ago?”
“I never got a letter. I never got anything,” I say.
My heart hammers in my chest harder as the memories flood back into me. My stomach churns and I taste a sour bitterness in my throat as the anger rises inside of me. My blood begins to boil as I remember the countless nights I spent crying myself to sleep, thinking I'd lost the love of my life – and for what?
He never even said goodbye or offered an explanation. Like a puff of smoke on the breeze, he was just gone. Vanished. Like he'd never been. I'd heard he enlisted in the Marines, but even that came through rumors that spawned countless hours of research on the internet. No one I asked knew anything about him, or what happened to him, and that killed me. For years, I wondered why – and now, I might finally get my answer.
“I was worried your parents might not give it you,” he says quietly.
“My parents? What do you – ”
We're interrupted by a voice from behind me. I cringe, realizing it's Peter's voice.
“Get lost on your way to the bathroom?” Peter asks as he comes up behind me, slipping his arm around my waist.
The two men share a look and in just that one, brief glance, the tension between them is palpable, and it's growing thicker by the second “Uhh, no, Peter,” I say, shaking myself out of my daze, “This is Jack. He's an old – friend – of mine. Jack, this is Peter.”
Peter reaches his hand out, and Jack takes it. The two men shake, and when they release their grip, Peter grabs hold of my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. He might as well have pissed on my leg right then and there, claiming me as his, given the way he pulled me into him. My hand aches from the tight hold, but I don't say a thing. I do my best to keep my face neutral and even. Best to not cause a scene. Not here. Not now.
“Seems like we're running into a lot of old friends tonight, aren't we, dear?” Peter kisses the top of my head.
“That happens when you take me to a place I practically grew up in,” I say, trying to keep my voice cheery and bright.
Jack looks to Peter then to me, and then back to Peter again. I know Jack well enough to know that he doesn't like what he sees in the man holding my hand. But, if he has an issue with it, he bites it back. It's not like he has any sort of claim on me. He's the one who ghosted me, not the other way around.
“Yeah, she introduced me to this place actually. A long time ago,” Jack says. His jaw is clenched tight and I can hear the strain in his words. “Jack – ”
“Listen, I have to run,” Jack says. “But you two lovebirds have a good time, ya hear?”
“Jack, wait, I want to talk to you.”
Jack pushes past me, the dog in tow offering me sympathetic eyes as they pass us by. I try to pull my hand free from Peter's, but he doesn't let go. If anything, he only tightens his grip. I fight it, and still, he holds me tightly. I try dragging him with me, but it's no use. He weighs twice what I do. I can't move him or pull my hand from his grip even if I want to.
I'm stuck and can only call out to Jack from the back of the restaurant, barely seeing around the partition as he walks out the front door.
“Jack, please!”
Tears fill my eyes, but he doesn't even turn to look me. He's gone in a second. Vanished into the night once more. Yeah, that's a familiar feeling. The entire restaurant is watching us now, and Peter still has hold of my hand. Daisy is standing behind the counter, her hands on her hips as she looks at us, shaking her head. Her eyes look about as sad as I feel.
Peter grimaces, a disgusted look on his face. “I can't believe they let dogs in here,” he says. “That can't be sanitary. That has to be some kind of a health code violation or something.”
Slack-jawed, I stare at him. He's completely oblivious, or so it seems. Not that I'm entirely surprised by it. He turns to me and smiles, kissing my hand again as he guides me back to our table. Suddenly, I'm not very hungry, my appetite is gone. The idea of food actually starts to turn my stomach.
Peter calls out to Daisy, “Come, come,” he says. “We'd like to order now.”
No please. Nothing that would signal it was a request – or that he had any manners. Just a demand. I sit, quietly, in my seat as Peter orders an omelet with ham and cheese.
“Sydney, what can I get you, dear?” Daisy asks.
I look up and see that her eyes are sad – which is probably what she sees in mine. It's obvious that Daisy pities me – but why? With my nice clothes and my obviously wealthy boyfriend, I bet most people would assume I had it good. A handsome man sitting across from me. Money in the bank. A limo waiting out front to drive us to some fancy lodge in Aspen. By all accounts, I had it good. It's a life I know some people would kill for.