Out of all the problems to plague me now, this was the one I had least expected. I was stood in my complimentary bathrobe in front of my suitcase. Clothing laid strewn out across the generously sized bed. This was all Tom's fault. He was keeping his lips sealed about where he was taking me for dinner. I had tried to reason with him, asking for him to reveal the kind of place he was taking me to or to hint at what I should wear but he wouldn't budge an inch.
Huffing, I decided upon a lacy, wine red dress. I didn't think too much of it until I had finished putting on my make-up. A second glance in the mirror made me rethink the outfit choice. Maybe the red lace was a tad too provocative; it hugged my body and encouraged others to look anywhere but my eyes. Would it send some sort of a message? I was unsure of what one was meant to wear when they were invited out to dinner with their ex. I looked at the navy dress I had also brought along; it lay, rejected on my bed. It was a little more casual (a daytime dress more than a night time one) but infinitely less seductive. I worried over whether or not it would be appropriate enough, perhaps the navy number would fare better?
Before I could even reach around to struggle with the zip of the dress I heard a knock at the door.
"Shit" I muttered under my breath. Too late. I grabbed my coat and my bag and headed to the door. I had to bite the insides of my cheeks when I saw Tom to stop any audible sounds of surprise. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and a red tie. The suit itself was a matte black three piece ensemble; as always it was fitted against him nice and snug. It wasn't that I hadn't seen Tom dressed like this before, but it had been a long time since I had seen him dressed to the nines and even I couldn't deny that nothing suited him like a suit.
"Do I look okay?" I asked anxiously "I didn't know what to wear."
"You look ravishing" he stated, his eyes raked down my body, admiring the lace covered curves and short hem of the dress. He took my hand and grazed his lips on the back of it "shall we?"
***
It turned out to be a charming restaurant that had opened recently in the centre of the city. Glancing at the other diners I felt a little better about my clothing option. There seemed to be a range of clothes, ranging from slightly casual to formal. I hoped I lay somewhere in the middle. The room was beautiful; reminiscent of something fromThe Great Gatsby.
"Do you like it?" Tom asked; his eyes watched me with amusement as I drank in the 1920's art deco.
"Very much" I said meeting his gaze "it looks like somewhere you'd find F. Scott Fitzgerald hanging out at."
"I'd nearly forgotten that you had a crush on him" he teased.
"He was a good looking man and a wonderful writer" I defended "not all of us swoon over iambic pentameter and neck ruffs."
"To each their own" he said trying to hide the grin on his face with his menu. God, I'd forgotten what a nice smile he had... I willed my eyes to concentrate on the menu instead of Tom. He was my ex for a reason but I couldn't help but still feel a little attracted to him.
"Mmm I know what I want" Tom said and my head shot up, for a split second I thought he was talking about me but when his eyes were still trained on the menu I felt my cheeks warm. Jesus Christ, does he know he's doing that? I forced myself to look at all the different meal options and when we finally ordered I felt my nerves run amok inside me, we have to converse now and I can't concentrate when he's looking at me like that. I cleared my throat and took a sip of the white wine that the waiter had enthusiastically recommended.
"I hear you live in Paris now" Tom said as he swirled his own wine around in the glass.
"Yes" I said "I have a small apartment on Ile de la Cité."
"Ah" Tom smiled "that suits you perfectly; somewhere quiet and intimate."
"It's the perfect spot to write" I almost bite my tongue to stop myself asking "do you still live in Chelsea?"
"No, I too felt the need to move somewhere new" His tongue darts out to wet his lips. An involuntary action that always made me question whether or not it was involuntary; surely it couldn't be as innocent as he claimed it was. "I live in Knightsbridge now."
"I bet that impresses all the girls" I joked lightly.
"It's not the only thing that impresses all the girls" he said with a wink.
"I don't know what you're suggesting" I said wide-eyed.
"Oh, I think you know what I mean" he said before lifting his glass to his lips; his eyes kept contact with mine. He seemed to be particularly playful tonight; eager to joke and cavort like we were old friends. Maybe we could be friends? I had missed Tom in many respects, but what I had craved the most from him was the companionship he had offered. He had been my boyfriend but he had also been my best friend. We would play Scrabble or watch films or he'd tell me that sometimes he was overwhelmed with the amount of responsibility he had and I'd stroke his hair to comfort him. We were always so close that it had been strange when he started ignoring me.
"Tom?" I was desperate to ask now. Why had he started to ignore me? I knew work was difficult but was there something else? Had there been someone else?
"Yes?" He sensed the change in atmosphere and had adapted accordingly. However, before I could ask, the waiter interrupted me with our meals. We were both distracted by the plates of delicious smelling food. I had opted for the seared scallops and Tom had chosen the fettuccine alfredo.
"Honestly, I'm not surprised you picked the fettuccine" I said as he twirled the pasta onto his fork.
"It's always been my favourite ever since we went to Rome" he said with a grin "Hey, remember when..." And just like that I had forgotten about what I had wanted to talk to him about and instead joined him in reminiscing about the week we spent holidaying in the Eternal City. We talked and ate, sharing stories and memories like when Tom had gotten horribly sunburnt or when I tripped several times trying to walk on the sands of Ostia in heels as we sampled the local clubs. It was nice to be with Tom and to look back at our adventures before it had gone downhill. Tom told me that he had been to Rome a couple of months ago and had stayed in the same hotel.
"Nothing's changed" he said "their beds are still the most comfortable thing to sleep on." I broke our shared eye contact when he mentioned the beds. I didn't recall an awful lot of sleeping during that week... And what a glorious week that was.
"Do you want to order dessert?" I asked, breaking away from the topic. While it was nice to look back, it felt strange to recollect certain memories. I was cringing a little. Okay, maybe a lot.
"Do you?" He asked after we both thanked the waiter for taking away our empty dishes. He had presented us with dessert menus and left once more.
"I don't know if I could eat any more but I like the sound of raspberry sorbet" I admitted.
"We could split it?" He suggested and I agreed. It wasn't too soon that we were sharing a glass that contained a bright pink icy desert in it. It was sweet, with a tart edge to it. I couldn't help but sigh softly in pleasure as I experienced the cool sensation on my taste buds. Tom watched and smiled.
"I missed you" he divulged, spooning a small amount of the sorbet from his side of the glass.
"I missed you too" I admitted "I missed this." I looked at him to see if he understood.
"I missed this too" he agreed and nothing more was said. A comfortable silence followed as we enjoyed the raspberry sorbet and the connection that we thought had been lost.
