"I know what you like."
"How do you know what I like hasn't changed?" she challenged.
"One of the first times we went out together, it was for Italian. When you were ordering you got mad that the menu said stuffed ravioli because ravioli's already meant to be stuffed. You ordered the gnocchi and got the same thing both times we went back to that place."
"You were talking shit about that couple sitting next to us," she said, remembering. "You said you thought the woman was his mistress because of how he kept watching the door and nervously checking the time."
"Then you wanted to act cute and pretend you were too full for dessert," I said. She cracked a smile, looking down at her plate shyly.
"I was nervous. I didn't want to be that girl. I was still trying to make you think I was a delicate flower," she said. I laughed.
"How long did that last?"
"I wanted to make sure I had locked you down before you found out I could eat an entire pint of ice cream myself," she said grinning. Her whole body language was calm and she was making jokes as she relaxed. This date wasn't going to be unbearable.
Our food came pretty fast, but that didn't slow us down. Once we had gotten the ball rolling, it was like it had never stopped in the first place. There weren't a lot of people I could feel so free and comfortable around. I had missed this feeling. Being with Ron again. All our beats and rhythms synced up perfectly. She didn't say no to dessert this time.
It was almost like no time had passed, at all. It was like we had never broken up and this was just another date night for us, not some weird scheme that my sister had hatched to get us to spend time together.
I asked her where she had parked, and we started walking slowly towards her car. We were both silent. It was a little breezy, and I had to stop myself from putting an arm around her in case she was cold. She still drove the same car, that red sedan that used to give her hell back in the day, with no functioning seatbelts in the backseat.
"I had fun tonight," I said to her.
"Yeah. I did, too."
"I think we should do it again." She stopped and turned to look at me.
"That can't happen," she said blankly.
"What? Why not?"
"Tonight was a special case. Tiffany bamboozled us. This wasn't a date."
"What the hell was it if it wasn't a date?"
"Dinner," she said shrugging her shoulders, "between old acquaintances." I laughed at that. All the years of history we had and she thought that made us acquaintances?
"Do you really think anyone in there with us tonight would believe that we hardly know each other?" I asked sarcastically.
"A lot can change in a year, Roman."
"You don't just stop being yourself. It doesn't work that way."
"You haven't been here, Roman. You wouldn't know."
"I know you."
"No, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't have done what you did. You would have talked to me so we could figure something out together," she said. Her face was drawn with anger. That cool, relaxed vibe we had had going through dinner was dead.
"I knew what would have happened if I did, that's why I didn't. I was deployed. I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want it to be your problem, too."
"Yeah, Tiffany told me. You were deployed, not dead. Why didn't you think I could deal with that? Why didn't you at least fucking talk to me before cutting me loose and making sure I didn't try and come back?"
"You wanted me to make you wait for me when there was no guarantee I was even coming back?"
"It wasn't a good enough reason to dump me. You made me think you hated me. That I was this thing holding you back. That fucked me up, Roman." I shook my head.
"I couldn't do it to you. You'd be getting nothing when I was gone. I was protecting you."