When Reality Comes Knocking | Book One ✔

Chapter Three

Sunday arrived and Alissa woke up to big turquoise eyes and dirty blonde hair. Marc. She smiled as she stretched.

"Good morning, beautiful," he greeted her.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice still groggy.

"So, I was wondering if you wanted to go out for breakfast?"

"Sounds good. Let me get ready."

He snagged an arm around her waist, "How about you get ready later?"

She giggled, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Come here," he grinned foolishly.

She bit her bottom lip and then dove for his mouth. They made out for a while and she thought of how routine this was. Kissing Marc. Her mind slowly crawled back to last night. To Diego. She stopped, their breathing ragged.

"I should get ready," she said.

"Alright."

She got up and put on dark-wash jeans and a white long-sleeve shirt. Marc wore a gray flannel with a black t-shirt underneath, dark cargo pants, and his old, beat-up brown steel-toed boots. She went into the bathroom down the hall and washed up. Her heart jumped to her throat as she thought about the hickies around her neck. She looked in the mirror and saw the hickies were mostly gone, but she still applied a little cover-up, then headed back to her room. She slipped on black leather boots then threw on her winter jacket and slung her purse around her shoulder.

They climbed into Marc's navy truck and then drove toward their college town's diner, Sunny's Diner, also known as their diner. They ate there every Sunday morning since they had started dating more than three years ago.

The girls said that she needed to tell Marc, but she couldn't possibly do that to him. She didn't want to hurt Marc. She didn't want to hurt anybody. Then why couldn't she wait to see Andrew again? She sighed as she stared out the window.

After they ordered coffee in the booth, Marc put his hands on top of the red and white checkered tablecloth. She laid hers in his as they looked at each other. She grimaced and he smiled. Marc looked down at her left hand. At her ring finger. Alissa swiftly pulled away and put her left hand underneath the table.

"So, what're you going to order?" she asked him and picked up the menu.

"I was thinking of pancakes," he said with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

He was thinking deeply about something. About her lost ring. About her engagement ring he gave to her, she thought.

"I can't decide between French toast or an omelet. What do you think?"

"Whatever makes you happy," he replied, and she felt as if it had a deeper meaning than just about breakfast choices.

She looked away and hid her face behind the menu.

They didn't talk throughout the whole meal. She was glad they sat at a booth with a window. When the bill finally came, they split it in half. Once they got in his truck, Marc turned on the radio. He sang along as if everything was alright.