My Fake Fling

I pulled out her chair and gestured for her to have a seat.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The waiter will be up in a few minutes with our appetizers.” The bottle of wine had already been opened and allowed to breathe. I poured us each a glass and leaned back to take it all in. Me. Her. The beautiful city at dusk. It was all perfect. And right.

“I’m sorry I was bitching earlier,” she said. “I should be grateful you offered to take me out at all. I know I haven’t exactly been nice to you.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me, but I am glad you agreed to give me some of your time,” I said. “I know I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s dinner,” she said. “Nothing more. Everyone deserves dinner.”

“You know what I mean,” I said.

“Do I?”

I waited until the waiter delivered the stuffed mushrooms with the promise to return in ten minutes with our main course. “I know we haven’t talked about it, but don’t you feel like it’s the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant are you referring to?” she asked.

I watched her pop one of the mushrooms in her mouth. I had to close my eyes when I saw the expression of ecstasy cross her face. That was going to send all my blood rushing south. I needed to keep things cool. Spending time with her was a privilege I didn’t deserve, but that didn’t mean I was willing to reject that privilege.

“Me,” I said plainly. “I’m the elephant. Or jackass. Idiot if you prefer. All of the above.”

“Why?” she asked quizzically. “What’d you do?”

“What I did ten years ago,” I said with self-loathing. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past.”

“I screwed up,” I said. “I was twenty-eight and cocky as hell. I thought I was on the brink of what I thought was a meteoric rise to the top of the world of real estate. I had something good and I threw it away. I can’t say what I was thinking. I was selfish and greedy. I couldn’t see the forest through the trees, like my dad always said.”

“You mean you thought you were going to be running in social circles packed with supermodels and A-list celebrities. I wasn’t good enough.”

“You were too good,” I said. “You were the best thing I ever had. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t see it. I was an asshole. My dad tried to tell me I was making a huge mistake, but I wouldn’t listen. I’ve never been good at listening and I proved it that day. I hope you can forgive me for treating you so badly.”

“I honestly don’t think about it anymore,” she said. “You’re forgiven. Water under the bridge. It’s old news. We both moved on.”

“Did we?” I asked.

“Didn’t you?”

“I haven’t dated anyone seriously since we broke up,” I said.

It was more than that. Every woman I dated after her was always compared to her. It took me a few years before I finally realized what I was doing. I was always looking for her. I was too proud back then to admit I had made a mistake. Ten years and a lot of lonely nights had helped me see the error of my ways.

“Wow,” she said. “I didn’t expect that.”

“It’s true. What about you?”

“What about me?” she asked.

“Have you been in any serious relationships?” I asked because I was both jealous and a little concerned. I hated to think I was responsible for ruining her prospects as well.

“No,” she said with a sigh. “I’m married to the shelter. Like you so eloquently told me before, a man doesn’t want a woman that carries the aroma of wet dog and dogshit.”

“You don’t,” I said vehemently. “You do not stink. I’m sorry I ever said that. It was a dick move. It wasn’t true then and it isn’t true now.”

“I know,” she said. “You were just being a dick. I knew it then.”