73 Memories

The Eighteenth Memory

"You ready for this redo date?" You asked, grabbing my hand and leading me down the sidewalk.

"As ready as I'll ever be. What's in store this time?"

"Nope, it's a surprise again."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Haven't you learned? Surprises don't really work out for you.

I glanced at you from the corner of my eye and saw that you were blushing. "Let's just go," you mumbled, and I did my best not to bust out laughing.

We didn't walk to your car, instead, we turned down the sidewalk towards the park we were at a few nights before this.
The closer we got, the more I could make out the little date you had set up.

There were fake candles, probably so you wouldn't accidentally set the park on fire if one got knocked over in your absence, and in the middle of all the candles was your average red and white checkered picnic blanket. On the blanket was, as average as the blanket, a wicker basket.

We sat down, and I could see some heat in your cheeks.

"It's beautiful," I whispered, and you looked up at me to meet my eyes.

"Good, because I feel really stupid."

I laughed, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "Don't. It's very sweet. Thank you."

You gave me a small nod and then opened the picnic basket. You pulled out food from Subway. "I'm not a very good cook," you explained, and I laughed. "It's fresh, though."

You handed me a sandwich and I unwrapped it and then took a bite. "This is really good," I said after swallowing. "I've never been to Subway."

"Really?" Your eyes were wide like you truly didn't believe me.

"Yeah, we didn't have one in my hometown."

"What is your hometown?"

I froze, desperate to come up with an excuse. If I told you and you looked it up, my picture would be the first thing you'd see. You'd find out about my mother. "My hometown..." I started, struggling for a way to avoid lying to you, "is a thing of the past. It doesn't really matter what it is if I'm not going back, does it?"

You nodded your head in agreement, and I thanked the heavens above that you didn't try to push the question.

But, in my mind, as we ate the sandwiches and talked and laughed, I knew I'd have to tell you soon.

Because if I really wanted us to last forever, and deep down I knew I did, I would have to tell you about how I ended up here.

But if I told you, I knew I would risk losing you, too.