Nineteen

NINETEEN

Dahlia

Around four in the morning

T he ground sprinklers shot heavy streams of water at us, forcing us to stand.

"Which way should we go?" Everett asked.

"Through the hostas."

He led the way, but when we're halfway back to the shop, the taller sprinklers drenched us with heavy mists.

Laughing like we used to, we raced through the flowers. At one point, Everett picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me until we reached the indoors.

I tossed off my shirt, exchanging it for a souvenir top. Then I tossed him one and he followed suit.

Unsure of what to say or do, or if the sex between us meant anything, I waited for him to make the first move.

"Is there a kitchen here?" he asked.

"There's the makings of one."

"Is it good enough for me to make breakfast?"

"Yeah." I nodded, and he followed me down a hall and behind the counter.

I took a seat on a stool, and as if he'd been here before, he opened and closed cabinets.

For a moment, watching him make pancakes and eggs was like revisiting our first time in the past.

The awkward silence that descended over us while we ate made it clear that we weren't.

"Why did you really leave me, Dahlia?" He sets down a fork. "I deserve an answer."

"I told you."

"I want a real fucking honest answer."

"I'd never be able to give you what you wanted. Well. there was a high chance of that anyway."

"What part of ‘I wanted you' are you still struggling to comprehend after all this time?"

"I wanted you, too, but?—"

"There is no ‘but.'" He shook his head. "I got carried away with you hours ago."

"So, the sex didn't mean anything to you?"

"I need a real answer before I can determine that."

"Then let me give it to you…" I croaked. "Please just listen…"