Page 11 of From Our First

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“I say we follow through with our truce. We talked about it at the cabin, but not enough.”

I nodded. “I had a shitty headache that day, so I don’t remember much of what we talked about.”

She frowned. “A headache?”

“From the accident.”

“Accident?” Myra asked.

It was so funny. The woman in front of me had been with me during an important part of my life.Shehadbeenan important part of my life. But she didn’t know what had happened in the years between then and now.

“I was an EMT. Our ambulance got T-boned, and I got a severe concussion. To the point where I will probably have symptoms for the rest of my life. Traumatic brain injury does that to a person.”

Her eyes widened, and she reached out as if to grab my hand but pulled back at the last minute. I didn’t know what I would have done if she had touched me. I never knew what to do when it came to Myra. And that was the problem.

Her face paled. “I didn’t know. I always wondered why you weren’t an EMT anymore, but I didn’t want to ask.”

“I love my job now. But no, I’m changed.”

“And I’m not the girl that I was before either.”

The silence the fell wasn’t as awkward as it had been before, but it was still far too strained for my liking.

“So, what do we do?” I asked.

“I think we need to get over ourselves,” she said and took a big gulp of wine. I did the same, reaching for bread as our waiter set it down.

She took a roll, carefully placed it on her plate, slice it open, used a slight corner of salted butter, and gently spread it over her bread. She was always so meticulous with her food as if she needed to be picture perfect. I knew it had come from her mother, but I tried my best not to notice what she did now. I didn’t want to notice.

“So, we have a truce?” I asked into the silence.

“We don’t have to be friends, Nate. I don’t know if we can be friends.”

I ignored the odd hurt that statement brought. Because her thoughts ran along the same lines as mine. I shouldn’t feel any pain when it came to her and the feelings she evoked. “Okay. But we can be acquaintances. We can be part of the same circles. But we don’t have to lob barbs at each other.”

“We don’t need to be cruel,” she whispered, echoing my word from before.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue down a path where hatred burns between us.”

She let out a breath and gave me a tight nod. “I agree. We’ll figure out what we need to do in each situation, but I can promise that my first inclination will not be to sneer at you every time I see you.”

I smiled at that. “And I will try not to be rude to you or get through doors before you.”

“I always wondered if you did that on purpose,” Myra said, smiling. This time, it reached her eyes, and I hated that I noticed.

“It was a little petty.”

“We don’t need to be friends. But we need to be kind,” she said. “I thinkkindis a good word. Because our friends need that, they’ve been through so much. We can do that for them.”

“I agree.” I cleared my throat. “And since we’re being kind, we’re splitting the check.”

“Oh, good, because you got the steak, and I got the salmon. Your meal is like twice as expensive as mine.” Myra took a sip of her wine.

“That’s fine with me.”

“My next date will have to pay for my meal. For propriety’s sake.”

---