I feel constantly gripped by a panic that I can’t precisely explain, but I can’t get rid of either. I’ve been waiting for this for so long and I have it. I don’t want to lose it because of something that I could have known through a fucking google search.
The only good thing that’s happened is that I think I’ve finally cracked the formula I want for orange basil, and even that isn’t free from me thinking about Tristan because he’s the one who helped me crack it. I can’t wait until Friday when I get to test this sample because it’s finally hitting my senses the way that I imagined it, and when that happens the tests usually go well.
The door opens to the lab, and when I turn I see Tristan walking in, his face determined. My heart starts to pound and my body reacts with visceral need, but my brain and heart are so confused that I can barely look at him.
He stops short and looks at me. He knows something is wrong—he has to. “Hi,” I say.
“Hey.” Tristan’s eyes are boring into me. I can feel them even if I’m not looking directly at him. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I have the formula. Finally. I think.”
“Congratulations.”
Silence hangs in the air for a moment. “Are we okay?”
“Yeah,” I say out of reflex. “Fine. I’ve just been busy trying to get this done, and with the gala next week things are kind of crazy.”
“Yeah,” he says, though it sounds like he doesn’t quite believe me. There’s another not-quite-comfortable silence before he speaks again. “Will you go out with me tomorrow night?”
“What do you mean?” I glance at him.
He smiles. “It’s not a trick question. I want to take you to a nice dinner, because you’re my girlfriend and I want to spend time with you.”
Even with all the questions and panic swirling in my brain, I miss him too. I want to spend time with him, even though I know that doing that means facing everything. “Yeah,” I say. “I can do that.”
“I’ll text you where to meet.” The fact that he doesn’t reach to touch me tells me that he knows I’m freaking out. Because even before I said yes to dating him again he touched me. And I crave his touch the way I crave breathing. Quickly, I turn away to hide the sudden tears of frustration and confusion that rise to my eyes.
“You sure you’re okay, Nicola?” he says by the door.
“I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay.”
I can’t ignore the sadness in his tone because it’s the sadness that’s echoing inside me right now. Betrayal. That’s what this feels like. The fact that he had a whole life before me. Likely still does. It feels like betrayal even though I don’t have a right to think that way. I don’t have a claim on his life before me.
If I keep thinking about it I actually will start crying and I can’t afford to. Instead, I pull out my test kit and start messing with flavors. Now that orange basil is almost done, I need to start on a new one. Always keep moving. Never let it land. I can make it another day without answers. Maybe.
* * *
The text I get from Tristan asks me to dress up a little and meet him at a park that’s in the middle of Leighton City near the river that flows lazily through town. I do.
I do my hair and make-up, and put on a short little black dress that I feel pretty in. Since I have no idea what’s going to happen tonight, I want some kind of armor. And knowing that I look good is armor for me.
Thankfully when I leave, my parents are occupied. My dad is suspicious enough about me and Tristan, and I don’t want to be interrogated before this date. Especially with everything that’s going to be on the table.
It’s a pretty warm day for February, which I’m glad about. I’m not really sure why we’re meeting in a park in the middle of winter but I’m hoping that his plan is to move inside soon. It’s warm, but it’s not that warm.
I can see him when I pull up next to the park, and the breath leaves my chest. Tristan is wearing a suit, and sitting beneath a tree in light shimmers of swirling snow in the winter breeze.
He’s beautiful, and every part of me aches. Please, I beg the universe. Please let there be a misunderstanding. I don’t want to lose him.
I park the car and take a deep breath. I can do this. I can ask him about what happened and I can survive whatever the answer is. After all, I survived the four years without him before. I can do it again.