We are seated at Ten 22, a restaurant I used to—and I guess still—love.
Carter is beaming. He thinks this is a breakthrough. I'm trying to be present, but all I can think about is that call. How I hate him and miss our quiet, mad world. How everything around me seems like a prop set. Like I am doll placed in a dollhouse and everything around me feels a little less real than what I had before.
The drive to the restaurant was quiet, but as we're seated, I become aware of all the commotion around me: forks clanking, laughter, plates clapping against tables. Eyes. So many eyes. I feel them staring at me…wondering—
“Do you want something to drink? Vesp?” Carter asks.
I look up and see a half-concerned look on the waiter's face. A waiter I didn't even notice was at the table until that moment.
“Uh…water's fine.”
“We'll also have some chips and guacamole to start.”
I try to drown it all out. But everything is amplified. I have lived in silence for so long, nearly every sound I have heard for the past year the result of a calculated choice.
“You okay?”
“Please don't ask me that. Ask me anything but that,” I groan.
“Um, ok…how was your day?”
I snigger. “Well, I sat in your apartment and watched TV and stared at the walls.”
“Sounds like a fun time,” Carter quips.
“Yeah,” I sigh, running a hand along my face and hair. “How about you?”
As soon as he begins, I check out. The call. What does Sam want? Those fucking women across from us need to shut up. They're so loud. Their laughter, it sounds mocking. Is it about me? Do they know my face from the news?
“Vesp? Vesp?”
Carter's voice lures me back to him.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Are you—” he stops himself. “Sorry. Sorry,” he adds, waving his hands apologetically. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“Really?” I ask. I don't feel it. I feel hollow and like everyone can see the emptiness on the outside.
“Yes.”
“Have I changed? From the last time you saw me?”
“No, I mean, your hair is longer. But you're you. You still have that smile, those eyes. I used to like looking at you, but now I appreciate it all even more.”
“Thanks.” I let out a gentle smile, but I know that's not true. I have changed. My smile and my eyes haven't. But I have. Carter has to know this. At least somewhere in the back of his mind. I can understand not wanting to admit that the person you loved is in many ways a complete stranger.
“What about me?” he asks.
“No, you're the same. Your hair is shorter though.”
Carter grins. He looks down at the table in a moment of hesitation before looking back at me with determination. “Listen, I don't know if this is good timing. But, I just feel like—Listen, I want to give you something.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box. I recognize it instantly, his hand holding it just like he did the night I was taken.
“I want you to still have this. I want to pick up where we left off. I don't want some madman to steal this from us. I waited a year and I'll wait however long it takes you until you're ready. The last night I saw you before I almost lost you, it was with the knowledge that you were going to be my wife. And I still feel like that's true.”
He takes my hand, and I don't fight him, letting him slide the ring on the finger that had abandoned it. It fits a little looser now.
“We committed to each other that night and that meant something to me. Still does.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
The women across from us break out into a frenzy of cackles and I startle.
Carter looks worried, but I brush it off and focus my attention back onto him.
“I want this too—”
Another loud eruption from them. It's winding me up, making me anxious. I just need them to shut up. Suddenly trumpets begin to sing. A fucking Mariachi band? I don't remember this place ever having that before. Everything has changed. All these little things. But they aren't so little when you add them up.
My heart thumps against my chest in a futile attempt at escape as all the sounds around me start to blur like movie film gone bad. Then there's a crash, it splits all the sounds apart: the hyena-like laughter of the women, the mariachi crooning away, the rambling voices. I hone in on the crash and see a man helping the waiter with the glasses in a hurry, before heading for the exit.
Is that him? Is that really him?
I mouth his name. Like seeing him is a siren's call, I stand up from the table and follow him towards the door.
“Vesp? Vesp! What are you doing?” Carter asks as he grabs my arm. I look back at Carter and yank it away, by the time I turn back the guy is already gone. I run to the door and push it open but he's gone.
“Dammit!” I snap.
“Vesp!” Carter calls as he joins me outside. “Can you please tell me what's going on?”
“It was him! He was just here!”