“That smells so mouth-watering,” I told him as soon as he climbed back in.
“Don’t you remember eating here?”
I didn’t. The place wasn’t familiar at all.
He put the vehicle back in gear and drove for anothercouple of minutes, pulling into a turn off past Spirit Bay. “We’ve arrived.”
My curiosity was piqued. The park didn’t look like much, but I went along with it. Perhaps there were picnic tables nearby where we could sit and talk.
But when I got out and looked around, there was something familiar about it. “Didn’t we come here once?”
“Maybe.” There was a twinkle to his eye and a grin formed on the edge of his lips. He grabbed the two bags of food and once again offered me his arm.
I was thankful I wore flats as the gravel crunched beneath my feet as we walked arm and arm under a thick blanket of trees. The smell from the bags was driving me crazy, and I couldn’t wait to get to the rest area I slowly remembered was up ahead. It was tucked off the road, and was so serene and quiet, with the gentle lapping of waves against the rocky embankment. If my memory was correct, a lighthouse stood tall and proud in the distance.
We walked in silence for a little way longer. I needed to gather my wits and be prepared for any yelling he may do, or to brace myself for whatever was coming my way. Declaring I was leaving and breaking us up, had been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. And, years ago, I had told my parents I was leaving their commune and not coming back.
The path opened wide into a picnic area not too far in. The area had changed a bit, instead of a few benches lining the path, there was a bit of an open area with a couple of tables scattered around, but still an amazing view of the ocean. The sunset was approaching, the sky to the east an indigo blue, and the western side was bathed in shades of lavenders and oranges.
“Shall we dine?”
“Yes.” I hadn’t had much to eat over the past couple days, but the smell was divine, and I was sure if I had no self-control,I could’ve wiped out both our meals.
He set everything out and dished up my plate. “Before we eat, I want to say how sorry I am. For everything.” He locked his gaze on me, never removing his eyes as my own broke free and stared at the pile of food.
“You could’ve said that at home.”
He held still as if he was going to say something else but paused and inhaled deeply. “I need to prove to you how important you are to me.” My lips parted but he covered them with his finger. “Please, let me explain.”
I took a deep breath of air and followed it with a sizeable forkful of chicken fried rice.
“I was an idiot. Huge supreme idiot. And for the rest of my life, I will fight for you and move the ends of the earth to show you how much you mean.”
“Mitch…” The sound was garbled from the mouth full of food I was still chewing.
“By being with Jasmine five years ago, I screwed up. Big time. I want to tell you about that night.”
I nearly choked on my food. “I’d rather not.” Hearing the details would only add fuel to the fire.
But he ignored me. “That night, I was in Campbell River, and I’d agreed to meet her for an early dinner. As we sat there, she went on and on about how lonely she was, and how her career felt stalled, and maybe it was the drink talking, but I felt bad for her.”
I cocked my eyebrow, already seeing where his story was headed.
“And yeah, she came on a little strong, it could’ve been her wine giving her a bit of a push, but she started rubbing my shoulder, and then my ear.”
That was the easy spot for him. Apparently, Jasmine knew it too.
“And I should’ve stopped her. I should’ve said no. I should’ve got up and left.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, you should’ve.”
A sad smile tugged on his lips. “What can I say? Aside from the fact I had an itch she was willing to scratch.”
“Gross.” The urge to get up and walk away was strong, however it was a long walk back home, and a small part of me was curious where he was going with his story. If he was apologizing, it wasn’t coming out right.
“We used a condom, by the way.”
“It failed.”