“What can I get you guys?” The waitress asks as she stops by our table, tapping her pen against her pad. She pops her gum, waiting.
Fisher cocks his head to the side, letting me order. “We’ll split the cheeseburger and fries meal, two Cokes, and a chocolate malt to split too, please.”
Popping her gum again, she scribbles everything down. “You got it.”
When she walks off, Fisher picks up the ketchup bottle from the other end of the table and slides it back and forth from hand to hand.
“You never could sit still,” I say, the words rolling out before I can stop them.
He chuckles. “When I was a kid, my mom always said I had enough energy to power ten other people.”
I smile at the mention of his mom. “How is she?” I always loved his parents.
“She’s good. She asks about you all the time.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
Fisher puts the ketchup bottle back where it belongs, offering our waitress a smile when she sets down our Cokes and straws.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says, sticking the straw in his cup and proceeding to play with the wrapper. “I like that she still cares about you.”
A feeling I can’t find words to describe swoops in my belly.
With a sigh, he shoves his fingers through his hair and adjust his glasses. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but I just want to say how fucking sorry I am that I didn’t get to the hospital in time. I…” He shakes his head. “By the time I saw your texts and got there you were already gone and then…”
“I wouldn’t talk to you,” I finish for him.
“Yeah.” He takes a sip of the soda. “I don’t blame you. I never did.”
“I didn’t handle things the best way,” I admit, albeit reluctantly.
“You were hurting.”
I hate that he’s being understanding, that he’s giving me an out for my shitty behavior. I’ve harbored hatred toward him for way too long. Especially when he never stopped reaching out his hand to make sure I was okay. I was the one who put up wallsand shut him out and for the first time since it happened, I’m wondering why.
I was angry at him for not being at the hospital with me, but he was doing his job. It wasn’t like he was ignoring me for no reason. But at the time, my emotions were all over the place and blaming him was easier than being logical about the situation.
“Yeah,” I sigh, playing with my own straw wrapper just to have something to do. “But you were too.”
He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, and my eyes track the movement. My thighs squeeze together, remembering the kiss in his hotel room. It was unexpected to say the least, but I’m not mad about it like I probably should be.
Sliding his glasses further up his nose, he leans in conspiratorially. “Let’s agree to move on as much as we can. I’ve missed you.” The last three words are whispered like a confession he’s not fully confident he wants me to hear.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I admit. I’ve tried to pretend that I don’t notice him, that I don’t still think about him, but it’s impossible.
“Yeah?” He sounds surprised.
“Yeah,” I echo with a small smile. I’m tired of holding onto things that were out of my control and frankly out of his too.
His eyes are earnest when he asks, “Do you think we could maybe be friends again?”
I rip the paper into small pieces. “I think so.”
The smile he offers me is so big, so blinding that I have to clasp my hands together, so I don’t shield my eyes from it. I forgot how the full wattage of his smile impacts me, the swoop low in my belly and the flutter of my heartbeat. It’s been years since I’ve looked at him with clear eyes and not through the fogged-up lens of past mistakes and I forgot how devastatingly handsome he is.
“Here’s that burger and fries, guys.”
I jolt backwards as the waitress sets the plate down on the table between us along with another empty plate. I hadn’t realized I was leaning so close to Fisher and my skin heats with embarrassment.