Notorious

Saudade

"Thank you for tonight, Jordan. I surprisingly... Had an amazing time."

I lead the way up my front porch steps, my heels making a dull thud on the worn wood and my dress blowing out behind me in the cool evening breeze.

I feel a tug at my gut as soon as the words leave my lips, the same feeling I have had in my stomach from the moment I put on my lipstick to now. Like I'm doing something wrong, like I should feel guilty.

Because I finally said yes. I agreed to go on a date with Jordan.

And it was actually... Amazing.

He took me to an art gallery in the city that only displays up and coming artists. There was sculptures of naked women and shattered glass, graffiti of social movements on the walls, and all different kinds of paintings. Even performance art: live poetry in one room and a band playing soft jazz in the next.

We barely said one word to each other the entire time we were there -too enraptured by the many things happening around us to speak.

It was only after that we got a chance to talk at the sushi bar he took us to. And he was funny and sweet and very talkative. He didn't pry too much into my past, for which I was grateful. It was nice and easy, no fuss.

Something I haven't experienced in a very long time.

Despite the fun we had and how easily I could relax around him and enjoy myself, I couldn't shake the churning in my gut and the niggling feeling in the back of my mind.

The feeling that had me pulling away every time he tried to hold my hand or sling his around my bare shoulders. The feeling that had my mind wandering for most of our date.

And as much as I'd like to deny it, I'm pretty sure I know the reason why.

He isn't Harry.

"I told you if you gave me a chance you wouldn't regret it," The raspy and slow voice I was picturing in my head is replaced with the much deeper and sharper accent of Jordan's, "Thank you for giving me a chance."

We stop at my door, Jordan stuffing his hands into his slacks and me sliding off his blazer from around my shoulders, handing it back to him.

He doesn't make my heart feel like it's on fire or my body feel like it aches for his touch, but the little smile he shoots me when he puts his jacket back on does make butterflies flutter in my chest. And maybe that's enough.

Maybe it won't hurt as much that way, won't completely destroy me if it goes south.

"We could always do this again some time?"

The hope in his voice only makes the waves crashing in my stomach wilder and my heart already knows the answer long before my mind does. It just doesn't feel right. It's not... It's not the same.

"Maybe."

He sighs a sadly, teeth glinting under my porch light and dark skin shinning underneath the stars. He looks beautiful, much too beautiful for someone like me.

"There you go with that maybe again," He rolls his eyes, tone light, but he scoots a bit closer to me, much more serious than before, "Didn't you enjoy my company tonight?"

"I did."

"And you had fun, I presume?"

"I did?"

His smile is crooked and he is so close I can almost taste him, "Then what's the problem?"

I hesitate, the words catching on my tongue, because... Because what is the problem?

I'm not with Harry anymore, I'm completely single. I left London to start over and try to be focus on myself for once and Jordan is sweet and attractive and responsible. In fact, he is probably the best thing for me at the moment.

Stable and trustworthy. The opposite of Harry.

It's been three months for fuck's sake –three months since I've even seen Harry. What is the problem? Why do I feel like I'm betraying Harry? I'm not.

I'm not.

So, when Jordan begins to lean in, I don't push him away. I allow his hard chest to press into my soft one, allow his hand to graze my bare arm, allow his lips to hover above mine -his breath mingling with my own...

But, then Harry's smile shows up behind my closed eyelids and I hear his voice in my ear whispering his love for me and the churning in my stomach grows so violent I feel as if I may vomit.