I tsk and take two large gulps of my beer, flagging the waiter once more with the universal gesture for ‘check, please’.
“Hurry up and finish so I can go home,” I mutter. If she doesn’t want to be clear and honest, then this conversation is done. I don’t like the feeling of being made a fool of, which is always what ends up happening when women do their ‘if you don’t know why I’m mad, then I’m not going to tell you,’ dance.
Inadequate. Unprepared. Unworthy.
Morgatha was always very good at reminding me how much those words suited me when she got upset, without ever once having to say them directly to me. It makes me tired just thinking about it, and it reminds me why I haven’t taken a woman out for dinner in so long.
I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing Ella here.
I chance a glance at her as the waiter drops the bill at the table, and I throw a handful of notes into the black booklet holding the receipt. Her soft lips are pursed, and her brows are drawn over her eyes, but she doesn’t look angry or annoyed anymore. More thoughtful, maybe. I’m just about to ask if she’s finished, when the waiter leaves and she opens her mouth to speak.
“I just mean,” she says quietly, all traces of both the mirth and annoyance from earlier gone, “that I’m affected by the way you act with me, and I can’t help but respond defensively.”
Not ‘You’re a jerk and you deserve my anger.’
Not ‘It’s your fault I never smile.’
Her blue eyes are bright from the wine and possibly a little vulnerable, and she shrugs. “I wish we got along better. Tonight was really nice.”
My previous thoughts fade, and I find myself wondering completely out of the blue once more, why she disappeared so thoroughly all those years ago. Why didn’t she want me?
I don’t know what to do with that question, though, so I shove it away and ignore it.
But she sighs into my silence as I wrestle with my emotions, then she grabs her bag and stands up leaving me staring at the space she’d just occupied.
“Sorry I’m such a bitch all the time.”
I shake my head and look up at her, realizing I’m still sitting like an idiot, and I jump up and follow her out as she begins to walk.
We make it back to the car in silence, but I don’t unlock, and she turns to face me expectantly.
“You’re not a bitch,” I mutter, feeling incredibly uncomfortable, as we stand alone in the dimly lit parking lot. “I, uh…”
I scrub a hand roughly over the back of my neck, and scowl.
“It’s fine, Rhokar, you don’t have to—”
“I’m sorry,” I find myself saying, my voice gravelly, and I’ve never felt such profound, nervous awkwardness take over my entire body. “For being so difficult to deal with. You’re right, I attacked you first. I took my issues out on you.”
She blinks a few times, her eyes darting all across my features as though she could read the contents of my soul.
“Okay,” she says quietly, and when she smiles my heart tugs in my chest, as if being pulled out towards her. “I’ll forgive you, if you forgive me for fighting you, too. And for suggesting that you deserve to be alone earlier tonight. You don’t, by the way. I’m sorry I said that in the car.”
Just like that? No blaming? No holding it over each other’s heads for the rest of eternity?
I huff in bemusement, my gaze stuck on hers, despite how much I tell myself I should look away now. “Okay.”
Her smile stretches. “So can we start a new chapter, then? Friends?”
I nod, not knowing what else to do or say. “Friends.”
“Good.”
She takes the final step towards me and stretches up onto the very tips of her toes, resting a hand on my cheek and drawing me down. My body moves at her command, even as another part of me remains entirely frozen, watching as if from a distance as she drops a light, almost friendly kiss against my cheek.
Almost friendly, that voice in me murmurs again. She lingered a little.
When she turns away, I don’t know which part of me takes over and grabs her small wrist between my fingers, but it’s like I’m no longer the one in control. Within a second, I’ve pulled her close again, my hand fisting the hair at the base of her neck as I walk her slowly backwards, caging her between me and my car.