Chapter 12 – Sadie
Present Day
On Wednesday, I still couldn’t believe that I had texted Brian and that I was about to see him. I hadn’t regretted it, though— in fact, I’d been anxiously awaiting this moment.
I tapped my foot impatiently as I stood near the hostess’ podium and looked out the window, wondering when– or if?— Brian would show. For all I knew, he had gotten tired of this back and forth. But then I saw his handsome frame strolling down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, and his strong arm pulling open the door. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding in.
I was always punctual, but I was impressed to see that Brian was too. I still didn’t know that much about him, despite the one wonderful memory I could still remember, of the first time we had ever met. I didn’t even technically know whether that memory was accurate, but I had a feeling it was.
“Thank you for meeting me,” I said, when he arrived. “I know you probably think I’m a crazy lady because I asked you to go away and then texted you to reschedule but—”
“Don’t,” he said. He was smiling and his eyes were drowning deep. “I’m happy you texted me. I’m happy to be here.”
I smiled and reminded myself to keep breathing. He had literally taken my breath away. He looked amazing. He wore dark jeans with Italian loafers and a wine-red, collared shirt that brought out the beiges in his stylishly messy hair.
I felt a little out of place. I had put on the proverbial little black dress and kitten heels. I’d pulled my hair up into a bun and put on silver jewelry. But everyone here was dressed up so fancy, and I hadn’t ever been on a date or even to a place like this.
I told myself I had better things to do— like train my cheerleaders— but a part of me knew I was closing myself off to relationships, to love. Until recently, when I had met Brian. Or, re-met him, I guess I should say.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “And I don’t think you’re a crazy lady at all.”
I smiled, glad that he had broken the ice on what felt to me like our first date, my first date ever. Even if the “old me” had been on dates with him, I didn’t remember, so to me, this was all very new and exciting.
We walked into the restaurant, while Brian explained that it morphed from one thing to another depending on the day or night.
“I love this place, because in the mornings, it’s a breakfast and brunch place, then they serve lunch, then it becomes a fancy restaurant for dinner, and then in a few more hours it turns into a bar and club. Talk about a versatile use of space.”
We both laugh, but I can’t help but wonder how many other girls he had taken here. The lifestyle he had been living before he and I had re-met. It was only natural and fair to assume he had been the typical “player,” not just of football but women too. He was a gorgeous, talented, and very rich guy.
Naturally he wasn’t going to just sit on the bench in the dating game, hoping I would change my mind after telling him to leave. But I didn’t really want to think about all the things he had been doing in the meantime.
Instead, I looked around at the surroundings. Brian was right—Blue Collar was the place to be no matter the day or time. The restaurant was classy with a terrace out onto the water of Biscayne Bay and Brickell Key. The sun was setting, and the water sparkled like diamonds.
We sat down. He ordered whiskey. I asked for sparking water. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to say. I took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry about Sunday,” I said.
Brian shook his head, but I wanted to explain.
“The thing is, lately I’ve been remembering things. About you.”
I watched his face carefully. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but I couldn’t place it.
“I keep forgetting them again, though,” I said. “And that scares me. Knowing I’ve lost something and having it back to have it ripped away again are two different things.”
Brian nodded. “I can understand that.”
His eyes were a cerulean blue, so deep and so bright I felt like I could fall into them and never swim up to the surface again.
I looked down at my glass, watching the little bubbles travel to the top and bursting on the surface.
“I wanted to ask you something,” I said. “About a memory I can remember.”
Brian nodded, and this time, I recognized the expression on his face. Curiosity. A glimmer of hope.
I feared hope. It had let me down so many times. And obviously it had let him down too, in large part because of me. But it was something we held onto like it would keep us afloat in an ocean of despair.
“Okay, ask,” Brian said in a very soft voice.
I took a deep breath and explained that night to him, the smells, the sights, the sounds. The taste of summer and possibility on my tongue.
He was quiet the entire time, until I finished. When I looked up at him, he looked raw, as if he’d been pulled apart.
“Is it real?” I asked. “Sometimes, I remember things that never happened.”
I shook my head. “I know it sounds crazy.”
Brian shook his head, too. “It’s not crazy,” he said. “And yes, it’s real.”
I felt suddenly like I wanted to cry. A lump sat in my throat that I couldn’t swallow down. I took a deep breath, trying to regain control of my emotions.
“We were in love, weren’t we?” I asked.
Brian nodded slowly.
“We were. Since that night.”
He didn’t say anything more. I think that he was scared to say more, to push again. I didn’t blame him.
I sipped my water, trying to make sense of it all. Why now?
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “All of this feels strange. I’ve taught myself to move on, to live without everything.”
I let out a breath with a shudder. My whole body was tense.
“I know it’s hard,” Brian said. “I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like. But I’m here for you, if you want to talk.” He made a movement like he wanted to reach out to me, but he didn’t. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about it or disappointed.
“You can talk to me, whenever you need to,” he said. “I’m here. Sometimes it helps if someone knows what you’ve been through.”
He was right. The only people left in my life, now, only knew about what had happened in theory, if at all. None of them had been there. Brian was the only one left.
Somehow, I was glad that it was him.
At the end of the night, he walked me back to my car. Although we’d had more than a pleasant evening, silence hung over us, as if he was unsure what to do.
I know he wanted to kiss me. I wanted that too. But a kiss held a lot of unspoken things, including promises sometimes, especially in a situation such as this. But it was too early to be making promises I might not be able to keep.
I nodded at him and then ducked into my car, leaving everything hanging between us, just as things had been for the past five years.