While we didn’t seem to have a lot in common when it came to our chosen school subjects and hobbies—I was a science geek, and she was a musical prodigy—we seemed to enjoy each other’s company enough to find a middle ground.
She was surprisingly easy to talk to, and when she opened up to me about her shaky relationship with her musician dad, I found myself divulging details about the shaky relationship I had with my father.
Tonight marked the eighth Friday I’d spent in her company, and instead of going to the cinema like we usually did, Katie suggested we grab a bite to eat.
However, twenty minutes into the first course, I had the distinct feeling this wasn’t the usual Friday night catch-up. Katie was dolled up extra nice in a pretty, black dress, with a full face of makeup, and her gorgeous, dark-coppery-red curls pinned up in a fancy style.
Wasthisa date?
WasIon a date?
Holy fuck, she’d texted me earlier sayingwear something smart.
I was on adate.
“So, what happened?” Katie continued to probe in the chapter of my life labeledLizzie Young, as she sat opposite me at a table in Spizzico, the fancy Italian restaurant in town. “I know you guys had a bad breakup, but you’ve never divulged the juicy details.”
“Because there aren’t any,” I replied, taking a sip of water. “We just broke up.”
“Bullshit.” Katie smirked and took a sip of her water. “So, come on, out with it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You know what they say about a problem shared.”
I sighed. “It just ended, okay?”
She looked at me. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”
My shoulders stiffened. “It’s over.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Her voice was soft. “It’s okay, Hugh. You don’t get over a breakup overnight.”
Feeling guilty, I exhaled a heavy sigh and said, “Ask your questions.”
“Really?”
I nodded. “I’ll give you as much as I can.”
“Was she your first girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Was she your only girlfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Were you together for a long time?”
“Yes.”
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
“But you did other things with her?”
“Yes.”