Like a dream

Chapter 1 NOW

I've been waiting for an hour at this fancy restaurant enduring the pitiful looks from the waitresses. My date hasn't shown up yet and he isn't returning my calls. I certainly know he isn't the kind of man to stand me up on our month's anniversary. Maybe he is caught in the traffic, I bargain with my mind. I pick up my mobile from the table and text him. "What's going on? Where are you?"
I don't even know if he has got his phone on him because he usually returns my calls pretty much straight away. Oh God! Where is Nick?
I see people around drinking, eating and chatting merrily with their dear ones. And that is the same thing I should be doing tonight, but Nick isn't here.
The sommelier comes back to my table. 'Would you care for a drink while you're waiting? Some wine, perhaps?' He places the wine list on my table. I'm really not a wine connoisseur and I usually drink what my dining party suggests. But tonight I really need a drink to get through my awkward situation.
'Can you recommend me some nice red wine?' I ask him. He suggests a '06 Château Ducru- Beaucaillou and I ask him to get a glass.
I put in a lot of effort to book a table at this romantically lit conservatory of Whitney Point, a posh European restaurant at Lower Thames Street. But I'm not enjoying it as I thought I would. And this isn't the ideal date I dreamt of. Even better, I shouldn't have suggested this idea. Yes, that would have been better! Nick hates the clichéd things that every couple in love do. Buying roses, wearing matching outfits, spending time at an expensive restaurant- all these do not fit his style. And for the love of God, he hates getting all cosy in the public! He never wants to grab people's attention and being an introvert myself, I have always felt quite relieved. In this one month of our relationship, this is the first time we are having a proper date, except for a movie night at his room, a few days ago.
So when Nick said we could celebrate our one month of togetherness, I held on to the opportunity and wanted to make the best of it. I put in a tremendous effort to convince him about this restaurant date. Bad idea! And all I receive tonight is embarrassment.
The waiter brings the glass of wine and places it on the table. 'Would you like to have something else?'
I grab the stem of the wine glass and stare at the vacant chair in front of me. 'No, I'm expecting someone' I say. He smiles before he leaves to the next table to take orders. I grab my phone and call Nick again. But he isn't answering. Sigh! I sip my drink slowly and stare at my mobile screen showing his picture. It was clicked at a downtown club in Reykjavik where he did his first DJing. His hazel green eyes gleamed in the night lights. To be honest, I fell for the warmth I saw in those eyes. And not to miss his long thick rich dark hair! I trace my fingers over his picture. Oh my god! I just love everything about this man.
But am I too naive? Did I fall for the wrong person? Wasn't it warmth in his eyes? I have several questions tearing me apart. I even hate the thought of being stood up by Nick.
The waiter approaches me again. What now? Doesn't he understand that I'm waiting for someone?
'Ms.Leila?' How does he even know me?
'Yes?'
'We just received a call from Mr.Miller' he says. My stomach lurches.
'Yes?'
'And he said he has to cancel tonight's engagement.'
Did I hear it right? Cancel tonight's engagement?
'Is it Nick Miller?' I ask him, refusing to believe my ears.
'Yes, Ms Leila' he says. I hear what I don't want to. Nick didn't return my calls or reply my texts the whole time and now he calls up the restaurant to further humiliate me. It really sucks! I feel like a piece of garbage. I pay for the wine and walk out of the restaurant not meeting anyone's eyes. I'll never be able to bear this humiliation that came from the person I trusted the most. Why did he have to do this to me? I fumble in my purse for my phone. I stare at his picture on my mobile screen once again before calling him. It goes unanswered. I feel teardrops trickling down my cheek involuntarily. I wipe them with the back of my palm and continue walking with my head held high and staring straight ahead. He doesn't deserve my tears, I comfort myself.