Page 32 of Worth the Risk

It was a silly and kind comment by a total stranger, but it planted something in my head at the time that made me believe someday, when the time was perfect, he’d plan a proposal and I’d wear this dress.

The proposal never happened and I never wore the dress.

I rip the tag off, tossing it aside and pulling the dress from the hanger to see if it still fits. It glides over my body, still fitting me just as perfectly as it did when I tried it on all those years ago.

My breath catches in my throat when I turn to look at myself in the mirror. My reflection smiles back at me as I slip my feet into a pair of simple heeled sandals. I top it off with a few of my favorite gold pieces of jewelry. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I actually look like myself again. There’s more than just color from blush on my cheeks and the bright blue of the dress brings much-needed life into my eyes.

I can already hear Becca gushing over how underdressed she looks next to me but once I remind her that this is merely practice for re-entering the dating world, she’ll understand.

Looking at the time, I’ll still be a few minutes early if I leave now but it will give me time to maybe get a head start on my buzz. The thoughts of Austin’s hands and lips and tongue doing all sorts of things to my body are starting to resurface and I need to try and dull them before they get out of hand and I find myself knocking at his apartment door in a few hours.

I grab a denim jacket to throw over my shoulders if the night becomes too chilly or I grow self-conscience over my choice in a slinky dress that hits at mid-thigh, then head out into the evening.

“Dirty vodka martini, please. Top shelf.”

I turn my attention to the room after flashing the bartender a quick smile. There's a gentle hum that fills the space, small groups of people here and there around high-top tables or half-hidden booths in the corners. It’s the halfway point between an upscale martini bar and the dive bar you drown your sorrows in. Becca and I have been coming to DaVino’s on and off for the last year. We’re not regulars but it’s a comfortable spot not too far from her place that we discovered one night after I had called her crying again about Noah.

When the bartender places my drink down, I don’t waste any time. I take a sip, then another, letting the vodka numb my tongue before swallowing it down. I repeat the process, half of the martini gone in less than a minute. Before I realize it, I’ve finished it, a second one being placed in front of me.

I close my eyes for several seconds, letting the liquor do its job and quiet my brain. When they open again, I catch the bartender glancing my way, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. I avert my gaze, my attempt to appear fun and fresh-faced tonight clearly out the window already. Here I am, resting my chin pathetically on one hand as I stare down the barrel of a second martini before my friend even arrives.

“Oh good, you didn’t wait!” Becca’s familiar voice snaps me from my thoughts. “I’m so sorry I’m a little late. Hector ended up coming home before I left.”

“No apology necessary.” My smile feels lopsided already.

“I’ll have the same.” She smiles at the bartender while pointing toward my drink. “How are they tonight?”

“Tasty.” I wink, lifting my glass toward her before taking a long sip.

“Looks like it.” She giggles.

“Sorry, it’s my second one already.”

Her face falls but she quickly tries to recover. “Hopefully in celebration?”

I can see through the smile on her face. Behind it is worry or maybe it’s something else, something worse like pity.

“Yes, of course,” I say excitedly, lifting my head from my chin. “I’m extending an offer to Miguel, so pretty soon I will finally have my work-life balance back.”

“Oh, that’s great news!”

“It really is. Now I can finally get back out there.” I don’t know why I add the last part. Maybe it’s to see her smile or watch her shoulders sag in relief at the realization I’m not always going to be a pathetic sack of sadness.

She immediately launches into two different guys she’s been wanting to set me up with. “Clay is a little edgy, I should warn you.” She giggles to herself, pulling up his social media account and turning it to face me. It’s photo after photo of him BASE jumping, solo climbing, and snowboarding.

“Uhhh.”

“I know, I know.” She turns her phone back to face her. “But then there’s Zane.” She repeats the process of showing me his social media. His is filled with local 5ks he’s ran, medical trips to needy countries, and volunteering at animal shelters. The picture-perfect man youbring home to mom. Both men are attractive but neither catch my attention. How could they when there’s barely enough room in my brain to remember to breathe.

“I know you work with Clay, but how do you know Zane?”

She launches into the story about how Hector and Zane met through the hospital Hector is doing his residency at. I try to stay focused; I try to listen to all of the little anecdotes and stories about how he’d be a perfect match for me, but it’s pointless.

“Speaking of the hospital,” she says, cringing, “don’t hate me but like I said when I got here, Hector came home before I left. He was able to get off his shift early which is extremely unheard of?—”

“It’s okay,” I interrupt, reassuring her. “Go be with him. We can hang out anytime.”

“But you look so beautiful and I miss you.” She does that thing where she’s fighting me on something I know she wants to do because she feels guilty.

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