Breaking The Rules

Chapter 1

When I moved away for college, I thought I was prepared for anything that was thrown my way, but spending my twentieth birthday alone in a four-star Italian restaurant wasn't on my bingo card.

The somber instrumentals that engulfed the dining area did nothing to soothe the rollercoaster of my emotions. I tapped my fingertips against the table. My self-inflicted manicure was drab against the luxurious ivory linens. The corner of my ring finger already chipped.

From my seat in the back corner of the restaurant I glanced out the wall-length windows that overlooked the city. Without tasting the food, I could understand why Filomena's was one of the most popular spots in New York–and why the prices were so steep.

The sun was beginning to set over the horizon, a cast of orange hues painting the city, and I was becoming more and more aware of how long I'd been sitting on my own. The plush velvet cushion no longer cradled me as comfortably as it did when I first sat down. For the tenth time in the last forty-five minutes, I attempted to rangle in the emotion waging war inside my head.

He's probably stuck in traffic, Celeste. Relax.

I peered down towards the busy New York street. Yellow cabs as far as the eye could see. I used my one birthday wish hoping my long-term boyfriend, Miles, was in one of them.

In a poor effort to distract myself, I tore my attention from the dimming cityscape and allowed my gaze to wander towards the other patrons. The scent of something showered in parmesan cheese had me salivating as I took notice in a group of women who were celebrating. An engagement? A pregnancy? Womanhood? The mass of pain in my chest grew.

The empty chair across from me taunted me. A second glass of sparkling water stared back. There was no way he wasn't going to show, right?

"Miss, is there anything else I can get for you this evening?"

The waitress who had brought me my mocktail earlier smiled. Her hands were folded in front of her as she took in the half-finished beverage. "Is everything to your liking?"

My lips parted only to shut again. "Yeah," I managed, "the drink is great."

She nodded in approval, long black ponytail dancing with the movement. "Wonderful." The composed look she wore grew tight. There was an awkward tension as she shifted her weight from one foot to another. "I just wanted to remind you of the two hour seating window. Will your guest be joining you shortly?"

My throat bobbed as heat licked the back of my neck. I hoped the embarrassment I felt wasn't showing like a billboard across my face. "Yup," I chirped with a liveliness that didn't reflect my inner turmoil. "He should be here any minute."

"Wonderful. Can I get you anything else while you wait?"

It was times like this that I wished I hadn't had my fake ID confiscated back in freshman year. A glass of white wine would have been heaven sent. Part of me wondered if I should say fuck it and try the request anyways. But I came to the conclusion that I had withstood enough humiliation for one night.

I mustered up a small smile. "No, thank you."

With that I was left on my own. Again.

The moment she headed back towards the kitchen, I slouched a little in my chair. Exhaustion washed over me as I stirred my drink with the thin black straw. The one colossal ice cube clattered against the glass. Drawing in a deep breath I picked my phone off the table. The sweet face of my cat, Oliver, stared right back at me. Usually, that's all I needed to settle my anxiety. Whether it was nerves over a performance or an exam, that fluffy orange face was a magic pill for my nervous system. But even that didn't bring me the comfort I needed.