‘You scare me, Samantha.’ His voice was low and he sounded very serious. ‘The way you make me feel scares me. I haven’t felt that in a while.’
The laptop slipped from her grip and landed on her lap. She looked at it a while and handed it to him.
He hesitated. ‘Are you sure?’
She was sure of one thing: it was time she started doing the things that scared her. Opening up to others was top of that list.
As it turned out, ‘opening up’ was the quickest way to shut a door between her and Roman. She’d left him to read while she got dressed. During the short drive to the venue, he complimented her writing, noted that the blog had less to do with travel and more to do with her life and relationships, and then he went quiet, leaving her to stew in anxiety the rest of the way.
For their date, Roman had chosen a courtyard bar and grill featuring a live Soca band. The outdoor space was enclosed with tall bamboo and the laidback patrons swayed to the music while drinking beer straight from the bottle. She and Roman sat at a rickety wooden table, a flickering votive candle and bottles of lager between them. Before he could withdraw from her any further, she asked him for his hand.
Roman pulled away. ‘In marriage?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘I don’t know. There’s a lot of that going on.’
‘Just give me your hand.’
He reluctantly complied. She traced her fingers over the bold, dark lines. ‘Your lifeline is short.’
He laced his fingers with hers. ‘What the hell … They say only the good die young.’
‘It doesn’t mean what you think,’ she said. ‘You’ll live an independent life.’
He offered his palm for further inspection. ‘What else is in store for me?’
‘Let’s see …’ She ran an index finger along the more prominent creases. The vertical line running along the centre was not one of them. ‘Your fate line is not as bold as the others.’
‘None of this sounds good, Sam.’
‘It means you’re the master of your fate. Outside forces won’t influence your choices so much.’
‘I wish that were true,’ he said. ‘Lately, it feels like nothing is in my control.’
‘Want to talk about it?’
He shook his head. The movement was so slight she nearly missed it. ‘Tell me about my love life. How do you predict that’ll go?’
‘Most guys ask about money.’
‘I know how to make money,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to make a relationship work.’
‘Welcome to a very select club, my friend.’ She traced the topmost horizontal line that started just below his middle finger and split in two. ‘You should know, I don’t predict anything. It’s all in the lines.’
‘Well?’ he said.
‘You have a restless heart.’
‘You should feel it now.’
‘Again, not what I meant!’ she said. ‘The line is deep, which suggests interpersonal relationships matter to you. But you’ll likely have multiple lovers or friendships.’
‘Before I die at thirty-five?’
‘In a blaze of glory!’
The band started up again. He stood and extended the hand that had revealed so much and yet so little. ‘Come dance with me.’