Raphael ordered some kind of pasta dish, which even I have to admit smells divine.
"What is this again?"
"Penne alla vodka," he says. "You like it?"
"It smells good," I admit reluctantly.
"Try it," he suggests, returning his eyes to his own dish. "I want to know if you like the taste."
His encouragement is soft, but kind, and it actually makes me want to eat. It's been a full day since I've had anything but water, and my stomach hurts. Tentatively, I spear a piece of the pasta with my fork and raise it to my lips.
I know people are watching, judging me. But as I glance at Raphael, I realize he isn't one of them. He seems fully engrossed in his own meal, not minding what I do one bit. I stick my tongue out and lick the smallest morsel of sauce off the pasta. It's good.
Raphael doesn't comment on the fact that I'm finally eating, but he does smile at me from across the table. I'm grateful he doesn't make a big deal out of it.
"It's good," I find myself saying. "I love the sauce."
"This place is great," the photographer nods. "Do you like Thai?"
"It used to be my favorite." Before... Before.
"I know a great Thai place too," he goes on. "Maybe we can go there next time."
The thought that he wants to see me again is exciting, and I find myself nodding along. I want to tell him I'm grateful for his kindness, but the words don't want to leave my lips. I keep eating though. I leave most of the pasta, but I scoop up the sauce with my fork, and by the time the waiter arrives to collect my dishes, I don't feel awkward telling him I enjoyed the meal.
"Did you have a nice time?" Raphael asks after we agree we're too full for dessert.
"I did," I nod, surprising myself. "Really nice."
"I'm not going to invite you back to my place tonight." He grins at my crestfallen expression. "I think it's too soon, and I want you to know I respect your limits. But I would love it if you came with me for a walk on the beach."
"I'd like that." I don't know how I'll handle the sand in my sky-high heels, but the idea is enticing and I don't want tonight to end just yet. He doesn't let me pay, covering the bill himself, and I don't fight him on it. When we walk out of the restaurant, I stumble on my heels, and Raphael grips me with a firm hand.
"Not used to heels?" he asks, looking amused. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I'm really not. I must be so unlike the models he's used to dating. My confidence takes a huge dip then, and I shake my head wordlessly.
"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."
"You're not a mess." He tips my chin back. When his fingers touch my skin, I feel an electric charge moving through my body, filling my veins with excitement. I haven't felt this way since...
I shake my head to get the thought out.
"Don't apologize," he goes on. "Take those shoes off. We're almost here anyway." He points ahead to where the sand is starting. I lean on his arm for support and undo the straps, then hold the shoes in one of my hands and run toward the sand. The gritty grains feel good. I curl my toes in it, grinning as I turn to face Raphael.
"Join me."
He does, and together, we make our way to the water's edge. There's no need for words, and for a few minutes, neither of us speaks. The silence is welcome and companionable.
While we're walking, Raphael's hand somehow slips into mine. This has happened on dates before, and I was always incredibly uncomfortable, but not this time. I let his fingers intertwine with mine, my heart skipping a beat as he pulls me to him to avoid the wave crashing on the shore where I stood moments later. I giggle.
There's a bonfire party on the beach and when we pass the crowd that's gathered, someone calls out Raphael's name. Instantly, I remember why I don't leave the house, why I never go anywhere, why I don't trust people.
A gorgeous brunette with a wide smile approaches us. She does a double take when she sees me, her eyes drinking in my scarred face. I can see her judging me silently, but before she has a chance to react, Raphael distracts her.
"Hey, Selma. I totally forgot you invited me to hang out tonight."
"I see," she purrs, toying with his shirt collar, letting her fingers linger on it. I find myself gritting my teeth together. I'm... jealous. What a weird feeling. "Found better company for tonight, did you? Where are you off to?"
"Just taking a walk."
"Moonlit night, a walk on the beach... Sounds romantic enough to me," the girl laughs, throwing me a look. "You're more than welcome to join us, if you'd like. We have marshmallows. And plenty of booze."