I Wish You The Best

5 - Mason

I called plays for a living. I surveyed a situation, made a decision, and made it happen within the snap of a second. I was used to being under pressure, or at least I should've been.

I was completely thrown off my game here. Sitting in my passenger seat is someone I thought I'd never get the opportunity of having a conversation with again. Someone I have no right looking at the way I do whenever we stop at a red light.

"I'll park down on Wick street, you don't mind walking?" I take a quick look to my right at the woman beside me. She's wearing a regular black dress but makes it look like a runway piece. Everything about her is showstopping and jaw-dropping. When she came around the corner from her room I would've believed someone if they told me my heart stopped because that's what it felt like. Seeing her there for the first time in... years. Last night was just a tease, just a glimpse into the years I've missed but today. Today was a full fucking semi-truck reminder.

"That's fine." Her face is turned so I can't read her.

I know she didn't want to come out tonight and maybe she was right. But I wasn't just going to show up and leave again without having a conversation. And then the news about her mom? I mean fuck. I would've dropped everything to be there for her and she knows that. So much has changed in the last four years and it makes me go crazy.

I drove in complete silence, none of us knowing what to say to one another. I wanted her to talk to me, tell me everything about what happened in the time we've been apart. I still craved to know her in the deepest ways possible and I hated myself for that. We were broken up, she broke it off. I shouldn't crave these things.

I park my truck in an open spot just a block away and make sure to make it around to her side before she could open the door to help her down.

She looked surprised when I offered her my hand to help her out, but she took it nonetheless. It was a double-edged sword. The feeling of her skin on mine sent me into a cold sweat, gone was the common feeling of revolution and in its place was familiarity. As if my body knew hers like it was it's own.

Fuck.

"I'm glad to see you opted for a coat tonight." Her jacket last night was a poor excuse for a cover-up. It left little to the imagination and did nothing against the frigid air. I hated the idea that she was freezing, it left me uncomfortable.

"Yes, I learn from my mistakes." I stilled at her words, sensing a double meaning.

"Good." Not knowing what else to say I rested my hand on the small of her back, directing us both into the restaurant and to a table, I had already reserved. The chatter seemed to die down a tone and I ignored it the best I could. If I could make it through the night without interruption it would be a miracle.

I want her to feel comfortable talking to me, not freaked out because people keep staring and snapping pictures of my every move.

"Thank you," she says while sliding down into the chair I've pulled out for her. I watch as she sheds the jacket and holds my breath at the sight of her bare shoulders. I'm a fucking goner.

"Have you been here before?" I ask.

This is a newer restaurant in town and a bit pricey. Money was never the issue in my family but I hadn't been home enough to explore the new spots to eat. Nor would I want to because it'd mean I'd be doing it with my father.

"Yes, unfortunately." The last part was a whisper and I watched her lips curl into a smirk and cheeks flush red. "Unfortunately?" I pray. She was always so open and talkative when I knew her. Everyone knew Delilah and her kind soul. She'd talk to anyone about anything to make sure they felt comfortable or seen. It was one of the qualities I fell in love with. So this awkward silence and double-meaning short answers are killing me.