the other, I was definitely planning on having a little conversation to
reiterate the meaning of the friendship ring finger swear with my best friend,
Julia.
“She said you had
a…um… thing for me.”
A thing.
My face began to
flush with embarrassment. If Julia were in arms length I probably would have
involuntarily wrapped the fingers of my one hand around her neck and then
started digging a hole for her final resting place with the other. Maybe, all
this time, I had misunderstood the purpose of calling upon the friendship ring
finger swear. Because the way I had interpreted it, you called upon it when you
wanted someone to keep their fucking mouth shut until they were dead.
Naturally, thereby taking the secret with them to the grave. At least that was
the way I remembered it. And last I checked, Julia was alive and well. Thank
goodness, of course.
Suddenly, Hugh’s
voice cut through my murderous thoughts. “Junior, given the disturbed look on
your face, I’m thinking Griff was, um, misinformed. Maybe I shouldn’t have said
anything.” He stared at me for a few beats waiting for me to confirm or deny
the information Griff was given but when I didn’t respond quickly enough he
dropped his gaze, picked up his fork and stabbed a roasted potato. It looked
like he shoved it in his mouth solely to silence himself.
As I emerged from
the haze of anger from learning that Julia shared my secret, the look on Hugh’s
face finally registered. He looked disappointed, upset, embarrassed even. There
was a narrowing window of opportunity for me to quickly explain my reaction to
Hugh or I would lose him forever. “Hugh,” I began. But if there is one thing we
all know…timing is everything.
“Dessert?” The
waiter interrupted exuberantly handing out menus the size of business cards.
The wait staff in this restaurant quite possibly had the worst timing I had
ever witnessed in my entire life not to mention the smallest dessert menu I had
ever seen.
Hugh just stared
at me expressionless as my mouth bobbed up and down. When it didn’t look like I
was going to be able to respond to him or the dessert query, Hugh swallowed his
last bite, wiped his mouth with his napkin and sent the waiter away, “Just the
check.” Clearly Hugh had had his fill. Enough Filet Mignon, enough of the
disruptive wait staff and enough of wasting his time on Delilah Welling.
Not a single word
had passed between Hugh and me as we walked from the restaurant to my
apartment. He did hold my hand as we made our way through the streets, which
was surprising, but he kept his pace a little quicker than mine so I was always
putting in an effort to keep up. No easy task in heels while trying to match
Hugh’s long strides. I was still processing everything that Hugh had told me at
dinner but I had yet to formulate a response. I needed to say something. I just
wasn’t sure where to start. Hugh didn’t know it – couldn’t know it. But
everything he said at dinner, apart from my best friend throwing me under the
bus, had essentially answered every prayer I had ever made from the time I was
a teen to present. But I had spent a lifetime perfecting how to hide my
feelings for Hugh. I was an expert. Now, suddenly, I had been given the green
light to share the truth? At what point had the dream of Hugh Rowen become my
reality? Before I could make any headway in sorting out all of my thoughts and
fears, we had reached my apartment and Hugh was preparing for his farewell.
“Welp,” he exhaled
loudly, “it was nice to see you again, Delilah.” He guided my body with his
hand so I was facing him. He stared into my eyes looking for something. But
clearly he didn’t find it because when he bent his head, instead of placing his
luscious lips on mine, he momentarily lingered and then veered to the right
lightly placing a peck on my cheek. Damn. I realized in that moment I had been
hanging onto the hope that his lips would press against mine telling me
reiterate the meaning of the friendship ring finger swear with my best friend,
Julia.
“She said you had
a…um… thing for me.”
A thing.
My face began to
flush with embarrassment. If Julia were in arms length I probably would have
involuntarily wrapped the fingers of my one hand around her neck and then
started digging a hole for her final resting place with the other. Maybe, all
this time, I had misunderstood the purpose of calling upon the friendship ring
finger swear. Because the way I had interpreted it, you called upon it when you
wanted someone to keep their fucking mouth shut until they were dead.
Naturally, thereby taking the secret with them to the grave. At least that was
the way I remembered it. And last I checked, Julia was alive and well. Thank
goodness, of course.
Suddenly, Hugh’s
voice cut through my murderous thoughts. “Junior, given the disturbed look on
your face, I’m thinking Griff was, um, misinformed. Maybe I shouldn’t have said
anything.” He stared at me for a few beats waiting for me to confirm or deny
the information Griff was given but when I didn’t respond quickly enough he
dropped his gaze, picked up his fork and stabbed a roasted potato. It looked
like he shoved it in his mouth solely to silence himself.
As I emerged from
the haze of anger from learning that Julia shared my secret, the look on Hugh’s
face finally registered. He looked disappointed, upset, embarrassed even. There
was a narrowing window of opportunity for me to quickly explain my reaction to
Hugh or I would lose him forever. “Hugh,” I began. But if there is one thing we
all know…timing is everything.
“Dessert?” The
waiter interrupted exuberantly handing out menus the size of business cards.
The wait staff in this restaurant quite possibly had the worst timing I had
ever witnessed in my entire life not to mention the smallest dessert menu I had
ever seen.
Hugh just stared
at me expressionless as my mouth bobbed up and down. When it didn’t look like I
was going to be able to respond to him or the dessert query, Hugh swallowed his
last bite, wiped his mouth with his napkin and sent the waiter away, “Just the
check.” Clearly Hugh had had his fill. Enough Filet Mignon, enough of the
disruptive wait staff and enough of wasting his time on Delilah Welling.
Not a single word
had passed between Hugh and me as we walked from the restaurant to my
apartment. He did hold my hand as we made our way through the streets, which
was surprising, but he kept his pace a little quicker than mine so I was always
putting in an effort to keep up. No easy task in heels while trying to match
Hugh’s long strides. I was still processing everything that Hugh had told me at
dinner but I had yet to formulate a response. I needed to say something. I just
wasn’t sure where to start. Hugh didn’t know it – couldn’t know it. But
everything he said at dinner, apart from my best friend throwing me under the
bus, had essentially answered every prayer I had ever made from the time I was
a teen to present. But I had spent a lifetime perfecting how to hide my
feelings for Hugh. I was an expert. Now, suddenly, I had been given the green
light to share the truth? At what point had the dream of Hugh Rowen become my
reality? Before I could make any headway in sorting out all of my thoughts and
fears, we had reached my apartment and Hugh was preparing for his farewell.
“Welp,” he exhaled
loudly, “it was nice to see you again, Delilah.” He guided my body with his
hand so I was facing him. He stared into my eyes looking for something. But
clearly he didn’t find it because when he bent his head, instead of placing his
luscious lips on mine, he momentarily lingered and then veered to the right
lightly placing a peck on my cheek. Damn. I realized in that moment I had been
hanging onto the hope that his lips would press against mine telling me
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