It’s warm in here. Too warm for gloves, but I leave them on anyway, because removing them might draw attention to me. Chai and cinnamon dance delightfully together in my nostrils, into my heart, which buzzes with a warmth I haven’t felt in several days.
I smile, and he thinks it’s for him. He smiles too and it annoys me, but my face does not betray me. I turn away and cross the room.
The room is all teal and orange and red and gold, and patterned in an attempt at intricacy. The patterns are simple though, just computer-generated designs assigned to tile and glass and strategically placed so that, when combined with the mildly enchanting music and the scent of chai and cinnamon, the patterns will make people feel relaxed and at peace for a time.
This is what I’ve come here for: to make peace.
“Table for one?”
The long, sleek dark hair gives the smell of chai and cinnamon a boost to my brain, triggering a blissful memory that has been lurking under the surface of my consciousness for some time.
The smile is not the same. The teeth are too straight; the lips too full. The dimple is missing. The eyes are different too, the dark brown of them pulling me slowly from my reverie.
“I would like to sit at that one, please.”
A bored shrug. I am led to the table where I first found myself. I sit in the chair facing the wall.
“Do you need a minute to look?”
Yes, but not in the way you mean.
“I will have a chai tea. Thank you.”
I sit up straight, careful to think of nothing until I have that red mug of sharply-scented warmth clasped tightly in both gloved hands.
Finally, I allow my eyes to drift to the empty chair across from me.
Three short whirlwind years ago, the most immaculate woman alive sat in that chair. I permit the vivid memories to play in my mind. How unusual it is, to give them free reign without resisting or pushing them away. I haven’t felt so focused in months.
The confidence she exuded was contagious and exhiliarating. She was proud of that single dimple there, just to the left of her mouth She never expressed any interest in having green or blue eyes; red or blonde hair. She never mentioned wishing she’d had braces as a child; nor did she ever appear the least bit ashamed of her smile. She would throw her head back and laugh uproariously, and the rest of the room would smile as well.
She loved herself unapologetically, and only once did she ever indicate there was anything she would change about herself.
“I’m so reckless; I wish I was more like you. Content to observe; just absorb information and ideas before taking action. I’m in awe of the way you balance me out.”
I fell in love with her the first time I ever met her, right here in this tacky little cafe.
Long after our mutual friends had left, I stayed, because she was still there. We realized we wanted to see a movie, but it was sold out, so we went back to her place to watch an old favorite of hers. I didn’t know if she was attracted to women. I didn’t even know if I was attracted to women. The only thing I knew was that I wanted more of her.