When I shake my head, Vienna giggles.
“Are all your fr-riends like this?”
22
VIENNA
I take in the growing activity in the town square and try to focus on things around me and not on the pain that’s trying to rip my life apart.
A server dressed in Giovanni’s standard uniform, black pants and a white shirt, brings our second order of root beers and two pizzas.
I smile at the sight of a heart made out of salami and tomatoes.
“S-seems your t-talent is rubbing off on others.” Zane’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and I know he’s avoiding the subject of my health for my benefit.
Sitting next to him, on this perfect date, I wonder once again, how it would have been if Zane were mine for real.
Real husband.
Real boyfriend.
“Vienna, w-we’ll have to talk s-soon.” He places his hand over mine on the table.
I interlink our fingers before looking up. “Just a little more time,” I plead and he nods.
After pressing on my hand once, he breaks a slice of pizza. “Th-then tell me s-something about you. S-something I still don’t know. Isn’t that wh-what people do on a d-date?”
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, imagining that everything is fine inside me.
“I definitely would have dressed a bit nicer for our first planned lunch date.” I look down at my denim jacket, plain white tee, and black jeans. “You, on the other hand, look delicious.”
Zane’s gaze drops from my face.
He’s so effing hot and cute.
“You’ll kill me with your charm, husband.”
“And you me, w-with your wit, w-wife.”
He holds my gaze, and the affection, the attention, the worry, that clouds his amber eyes scares me. There’s no doubt in my mind that Zane is going to be my rock throughout this agonizing journey that has only just started.
But what’ll happen after that?
How will I survive if I come through the other side?
“W-would you like t-to leave?” he asks, understanding shimmering in his eyes.
I shake my head. Going home means we won’t be able to avoid the conversation any longer. “Let’s finish our food first.” I motion toward our half-untouched food.
As he grabs his root beer, my mind goes back to his question. There are so many things I want to tell Zane about my life, but our limited time together has an end date, one way or the other. So I’ve got to be wise about which memory I choose to share with him.
“Did I tell you my parents eloped?”
He glances up and nods. “You d-did mention it br-riefly.”
“My father was still married to someone at the time.”
A touch of surprise flies across his face.