The alarm blared at 7:00 AM. It was that pop-rock song she used to love. Hearing it every morning had pretty much fixed that.
She rolled over and slapped it quiet. Lying still, she watched the ceiling fan complete a slow, clicking rotation before she finally sat up.
Her grey hoodie, its cuffs comfortably frayed, hung on the chair right where she'd left it. She pulled it on. The sleeves were a little shorter than she remembered, but that always happened after a run through the dryer.
In the kitchen, the cereal box stood waiting on the counter, the cartoon sun on its front grinning its usual wide grin. She poured a bowl, added milk, and ate standing up. The first spoonful tasted faintly of cardboard, the way it always did when the box was nearly empty.
After rinsing the bowl and leaving it in the sink, she checked her phone.
One new message from David.
Meet me at the corner café. Usual time.
A smile touched her lips before she even thought about it. She slipped on her shoes and stepped outside.
Her walk through the neighborhood followed the same familiar script. The two dogs trotted up to their fence to bark a cheerful greeting. The house a few lots down still wore its awful seafoam green paint. And the red sedan at the curb was still there, its one flat tire looking permanent.
The little bell above the coffee shop door chimed as she stepped inside. He was already there, and he looked up as she entered. He smiled.
Hey, Claire, he said.
Claire smiled. Heeyyy! Glad we could meet today!
David shifted in his seat, setting his cup down. Me too. Man, it was a rough day at work. But I'm so happy to finally be here with you.
Claire sat down opposite him, twirling a strand of hair. The familiar blue of his shirt was crisp. She waited a moment for the right line to form in her mind.
David tapped her arm. Hey, you okay in there? Did I lose you?
Claire snapped to attention, finally speaking. Sorry! What did you want to do today?
David grinned. I just thought we could take it easy today. He absentmindedly tapped his pocket. Claire could make out the shape of something, but not what.
Claire sighed. Taking it easy sounds perfect, she said, voice dropping half an octave. Though I should warn you, my definition of 'easy' might involve that little mystery. She nodded to his pocket.
David quickly stood. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her close. He leaned to her ear, breath hot. Don't you worry about it, babe. Now, let's go somewhere a bit better, hm? He began to lead her out of the coffee shop.
Claire registered the sudden, warm pressure on her hand. Her cheeks warmed. Before she could notice, he had brought her to the old park they used to play at as kids. She looked around, taking in the scenery. Everything was how she remembered it, for better or worse.
David nudged her shoulder, his voice breaking her trance. Thanks for answering that text. Wasn't sure I'd finally get that chance with you. Hard to believe you've been single. He lightly touched her hand.
Claire looked him over. He'd always been attractive. Bit plain, but that face was cute and his eyes were lovely. She recalled the day that fateful text came in.
* * *
Claire sat alone, a long night at her job wearing her down. She felt a tingle in her pocket. A text? From who? She unlocked her phone and was met with a surprise. David. From high school. She hadn't seen him since graduation. She shot back a warm greeting. Hey David! Good to hear from you. How's the wife?
He read and replied instantly. Oh, things went south. Long story, and a long time ago. Hey do you remember Mr. Jones? I ran into him the other…
Claire looked at the top of her phone. Hours had melted away with their talk. They discussed so much. Claire found herself… happy to chat with him? They made a stupid promise to each other as teenagers that if they hit 30 without being married, they'd just tie the knot.
It was weeks before graduation. They had just spent a night together, doing… typical teenager things.
In the afterglow of that moment, David had grinned, pulling her into a hug. Promise me, Claire. Thirty. If we're both alone, we end up together.
She recalled the moment with a clarity that belied her resistance. It was a dumb promise, but it felt right. That promise was the reason they were talking now, wasn't it?
Claire chuckled to herself.
Then, a call. David.
Claire panicked. Her nerves rattled inside. She took a breath and answered. H-hello?
The voice that greeted her was warm. Familiar. Safe. It was him. He began to speak, a light stammer in his voice. Claire. We're going on a date. I'm done waiting. The coffee shop by the park. Fuck it, you know? We're both single. Worst outcome, we decide we aren't meant for this and move on.
Claire laughed. Sure. Why not.
***
Claire? You good? David tilted his head, eyes meeting hers.
Claire jolted, shook her head, and smiled. Yeah. Just got lost in the moment. She squeezed his hand, deciding that if he gets to play bold, so does she.
He smirked, returning the grip.
Claire found herself going in for a kiss. Her eyes closed. They met his. His warmth surged into her. When she finally broke away, she spoke with a newfound affection. Wow. Still a good kisser, aren't you? She pulled him close, feeling a tug in her heart.
David gave her neck a small nibble.
Something poked Claire's leg. Her cheeks flushed. Warm breath escaped her lips. She looked down with a smirk. In David's pocket, there sat the outline of a box. She couldn't get a good look. Her senses flooded with desire.
David immediately shifted his leg away, grabbing her chin and forcing her gaze to his. Hey, eyes up here. I knew you wanted this. You've always wanted this. So let's just cut to it, huh? We're both nearly 30. Why wait the extra time?
Claire smiled. He had to be planning something. But he was right. She always wanted this. She placed a hand on his cheek, and whispered to him. Of course, babe. Happy to call you mine. Always.
David's eyes lit up. He spoke. Come on, Miss Almost-Thirty. There's a department store two blocks from here that won't know what hit it. His thumb traced circles on her palm. My treat. You pick something that makes me regret suggesting this. I'll find something that won't make you cringe when we eat at that fancy steakhouse. He pulled her along.
Claire's laughter bubbled up, the sound bright against the quiet hum of the park. She leaned into David's touch. A department store heist? Bold choice for a first date in... what, twelve years? Though I suppose we did always raid the candy aisle at McKinney's after school. Some habits die hard.
As they begin to walk, David's smile grew. His eyes darted back to her for a moment. We never got married. Me and Sam. How'd you manage to stay single all this time? Waiting for me? He shot her a devious grin.
Claire snorted, bumping her shoulder against David's. Waiting for you? Please. The lie tasted sweet. Claire watched his grin widen. He knew the truth. I was busy revolutionizing the exciting world of spreadsheet formatting, thank you very much. Her fingers brushed against his wrist. Though I did keep the day on my calendar. Just in case.
David raised an eyebrow. Just in case, huh? Well, maybe it's fate then. Who knows.
As they walked, Claire took in the familiar sights of the neighborhood. The blue car with the flat tire sat silent, a constant in her fast-changing world.
David pulled her close. You know, you usually have some complaints. What's different this time?
Claire let out a quiet hum, and leaned into his side. Complaints? Maybe I've finally accepted that some things never change. Like this damn uneven concrete, or... Her voice dropped as she squeezed his arm. Or how you still smell like that stupid cedar cologne from senior year.
David let out a soft sigh. Yeah. Some things never change. He kept his gaze ahead as they entered the clothing store.
Claire's eyes grew wide as she scanned the walls. Dresses, skirts, and blouses abound. She broke off from David, mesmerized. She flipped through the offerings, finally settling on a stark red piece that hugged her features. She tried it on. As she looked in the mirror, she noticed it was a bit revealing. Oh well. More fun later.
David spun around to meet her as she exited the dressing room. He stared, wordless.
Claire giggled, the sound light, then kissed his cheek. Your treat, remember? Regret hitting yet? She let the silk slip between her fingers as she twirled once, the dress flaring just enough to show off her thighs. The shop's lights caught every detail. The fabric stretched taut across her hips. The neckline dipped just low enough to tease.
David's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. Jesus, Claire. His voice came out rough, like he'd been running.
She bit her lip, watching his reaction ripple through him. How his gaze kept darting to the curve of her waist. She dropped her voice to a purr. Still think this was a good idea?
Yeah. Very much so. David quickly slipped into his comparably plain suit, and went to pay for their outfits. He didn't flinch at the price. He turned to Claire. Come on, let's keep this night on track. We're gonna have a blast. He ran one hand up her leg, stopping just short of the slit in her dress. He winked at her.
Claire arched an eyebrow as David's fingers traced high, her skin tingling Mm, keeping things on track? That's rich when your hands seem to have their own itinerary. She caught his wrist playfully, but didn't pull away. She just held him there, right at the threshold, her pulse quickening. Alright, Casanova. Lead the way. She adjusted the strap of her dress where it had slipped off one shoulder. Just enough to watch his eyes track the movement, before threading her fingers through his. Though if we're playing this game, I'm picking dessert first.
David watched her confidently step out into the street. His eyes stayed glued to her butt.
Claire knew. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes beckoning.
David quickly went to the car and opened the door for her.
Claire slipped inside, leaning just slightly toward his side.
As David sat in the driver seat, her cleavage stole his gaze for a moment. He started the car, and off they went. As they drove, he placed a hand on her leg, voice shaky. You know, I always thought of you. During all those years. You were always the one who got away. He shifted in his seat. The thought of that night we made the promise… He stalled, hoping to avoid the crass admission. It helped.
Claire exhaled softly. The heat of his palm bled through the silk. She turned her face toward the passing streetlights to hide the flush creeping up her neck. She murmured. I'd tell myself it was just nostalgia. But then I'd catch a whiff of that cologne on some random guy and… Her shrug was deliberate, the movement making her dress whisper. Turns out my subconscious had a higher opinion. She placed her hand over his, their fingers interlocking. The message was clear.
David cleared his throat. Yeah. Me too. Couldn't look at a redhead without thinking of you. He turned to face her. But his eyes darted down, for just a second. You know… I always wanted to call. To write. To just… Show up and tell you I still loved you. Sam was always so… Hateful. She abused me. Cheated on me. He took her hand, and clasped both of his around it. He met her eyes as a tear streaked his cheek. But in the darkest moments, you were my guiding light. Always. He suddenly dove in for a hug.
Claire melted into the hug, her arms tightening around David as she felt the dampness of his tear against her neck. She whispered, her voice dripping with emotion. You idiot. All those years... we could've had this. She pulled back just enough to cradle his face, thumbs brushing away the wetness on his cheeks. But we have now. And I'm not letting go again. Her lips found his. The kiss tasted of salt and years of missed chances. She pulled him close, anchoring herself in the moment. So much for taking it easy, huh? Still... this feels right. Like we're picking up where we left off, just with better clothes and worse life choices.
David nuzzled her neck, then replied. Definitely. Come on. This place is incredible. He gripped her right one last time before getting out. He opened her door and offered his hand.
Claire's fingers curled around his as she stepped out. The weathered brick arches were draped in ivy. Iron lanterns cast honeyed light onto her bare shoulders. Scents danced in her mind: seared ribeye, rosemary-infused butter, the faintest hint of red wine. She tightenedher grip on David's hand, leaning into him. She spoke with a mock-anger. You bastard. This was always my dream spot. Even back when we could barely afford diner pancakes.
The hostess' eyes flicked to their intertwined fingers with a knowing smile. Mister and missus….?
David shook his head. No no no. It's just under David. For 7 PM. Two.
The hostess checked the list, nodded, and guided them back to their table. It was in the more private section. Warm light from a crackling fireplace bathed the area in a romantic gold hue.
Claire sat first, looking around. One other couple was in this section. They seemed lost in each others eyes, so she looked away. When she turned back, a large bottle and two glasses sat on the table.
David began to pour a glass, voice sultry. No expense spared for you, babe. He slid the glass to her. Go on. Drink. Loosen up. Let's have fun. Like those old high school day.
Claire briefly resisted. Something about this felt a little too… perfect. But the thought dissolved as quickly as it came the moment wine graced her tongue. She looked through the menu. The cheapest item more than doubled the price of a full meal for two from anywhere else. She sheepishly looked to David.
His lips curled. His eyes and voice were warm. Seriously, love. We don't get the chance to do this every night, do we? Get whatever you want. He covered her menu with the cloth napkin. Or, I'll just order for you.
Claire's fingers twitched against the napkin. She met David's gaze over the rim of her wineglass, the ruby liquid catching firelight. You're dangerous when you play romantic, she murmured before taking another sip. Her free hand found his knee beneath the table, squeezing gently. Her smile turned predatory as she leaned forward, the dress's neckline dipping dangerously low. Her voice was velvet in his ears. Make it the filet for me.
The waiter materialized as if summoned by Claire's audacity. David opened his mouth, but Claire beat him to it, rattling off the order with precision. David raised a brow.
What? Claire shrugged, the movement making her earrings sway. A girl can dream. Though... Her thumb traced the her glass. This is better. You here. Me in this dress. That promise we made finally— Her words stalled as the first course arrived: oysters glistening on ice, a shared plate from David's secret addition to the order.
Claire's lips parted with a slow, deliberate breath. She watched David's pupils dilate. You kept staring at these back in biology class, she began, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop of juice before sliding the shell between her lips. Still haven't learned subtlety, have you, David?
The fireplace popped. David's squeezed his fork.
Claire's smirk widened when his free hand landed above her knee, his fingertips pressing possessive bruises into her skin. The wine gave her a burst of courage, and she slowly guided his hand up.
David felt his hand slide forward, the warmth overwhelming. He pulled his hand back, clearing his throat. Not, this isn't right. He closed his eyes tight, then took a deep breath.
Claire's fingers tightened around her wineglass. Her lips pressed into a thin line. Here's that familiar dance of hesitation she'd forgotten about. Fine. The word cracked like ice in the room. We'll do this your way. Like always. The firelight caught the edge of her smirk briefly. This was a challenge. Not a concession.
David fiddled around in his pocket, shaking slightly. He grabbed her hand.
Claire's smirk faded. She unconsciously let herself be guided forward.
David dropped. One knee. He closed his eyes.
Claire's world narrowed. Breath stalled. He revealed the ring. Not some gaudy piece, but the exact Art Deco emerald-cut sapphire she'd pinned on her 'Someday' Pinterest board eight years ago. Her hands flew to her mouth, fingers trembling against parted lips. You— The word fragmented into a laugh.
The other couple gasped. The waitress froze mid-stride with their entrees. All that existed was David's knee pressing into the hardwood.
He finally spoke, voice frayed. Thirty and single, just like we promised. His thumb brushed her knuckles. The ring glinted in the firelight. So. Claire Whitmore. Marry me?
Claire's knees nearly buckled. She gripped his shoulders. She finally took a breath. You absolute menace. She barely managed to squeak the words out. Keeping tabs on my Pinterest? For years? She crashed their mouths together. She broke away just enough to whisper: Yes, you idiot. A thousand times yes.