With a decisive stroke of my pen, I sign my name, the ink a dark contrast against the crisp white paper. A legally binding contract, sealed with ink and promises, intertwines our lives for the foreseeable future.
8
emily
Aleks walks us out of the apartment after we have signed all the documents. Our move-in date isn’t until February 1st, so we still have a few weeks to pack and get ready.
Ben and I are standing on the sidewalk when we turn to face each other. We’re both smiling eagerly at the next step in moving on with our lives.
“So, do you still want to go to happy hour now?” I ask tentatively.
“Sure. Lead the way.” Ben gestures for me to go ahead of him as he falls into step beside me.
I pull up the map on my phone to navigate us to Billy’s, a bar that’s famous for its happy hour deals with cheap, delicious food and fantastic drinks.
It’s only about a five-minute walk. Ben and I walk side by side in comfortable silence as we look around at our soon-to-be neighborhood. As we turn the corner, I notice he switches sides so that he’s the one closest to the street, but I think nothing of it as we make our way to the restaurant.
Once we get there, the hostess informs us we can just seat ourselves at the bar. We find the only two seats available at thelarge counter. I’m taking off my coat when I feel his hands on my shoulders. Startled, I look over my shoulder, but he simply raises his eyebrow. He helps me take off my coat, hanging it on my chair as he pulls it out and motions for me to sit.
His excellent manners surprise me, and my cheeks heat as I take my seat. Ben removes his coat and claims the seat next to me as I look around at the bar. The vibe is cozy chic, and the patrons seem like corporate millennials who are all dressed to impress. I feel out of place in my jeggings, oversized sweater, and ankle boots.
Ben seems to fit in with the crowd in his button-down collared shirt tucked into gray slacks that seem to fit him perfectly. He’s even wearing a tie to finish the look. I was never into corporate-type guys, and Logan was always either in his uniform or in gym clothes.
Ben hands me the happy hour menu, and we’re both quiet as we look over the options.
Our eyes meet over the menu, and I feel a tingle rush down my spine.
“Do you know what you want?” I ask him after a moment.
He pauses before he finally answers, “Yeah, I think I do.”
I don’t think he’s talking about what’s on the menu for tonight.
The bartender comes over to us to take our order, and we both order a drink and some food. Normally, the prices are almost double for the food and drinks, but since it’s happy hour, we’re able to get everything at a steep discount.
No complaints here.
As the bartender walks away, we both turn to each other.
I get nervous thinking that small talk would be difficult with Ben since I’ve always struggled with it. Call me borderline antisocial, but I always found small talk to be tedious. I would rather spend my free time reading or at the gym mostdays, where talking is impossible since it’s imperative to keep breathing through a rough workout.
Surprisingly, Ben is so easy to talk to and puts me at ease with his calm and friendly demeanor.
At some point, we’ve both turned our bodies so that we’re facing each other, our knees naturally making room for the other person without effort. I don’t take too much time to think about how well we seem to fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle.
After a lull in the conversation, Ben looks me over.
“I never asked you before, but how are you doing?” I look up at him as I ponder his question. I don’t think he’s asking it in a friendly way but more so to get a sense of where my head is post-Logan.
“You know Logan and I broke up…” He tips his chin down in affirmation. “Well, I guess I’m single now and just trying to figure things out.”
Ben takes a moment to absorb my answer before responding. “For what it’s worth, he never deserved you.”
I give him a small smile. “Thanks.”
I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.
As we sit there sipping on our drinks, I fidget. I’m wrestling with the urge to just come out and ask him about how he ended up single at the bar with me. I take a big gulp of my cocktail and work up the nerve to ask him.
