Three hours and lots of laughter later, Chelsea leaves my apartment with strict instructions on what to wear and how to behave on my date with Ashley. Despite my exaggerated eye rolls, I silently thank the heavens for Chelsea and the way she always manages to calm me down. I look at my outfit in the mirror for the hundredth time, run my fingers through my hair, and watch the minutes tick closer and closer to six thirty.
"Relax, Spencer," I tell myself out loud.
Feets, the cat I bought for my ex on our anniversary but who somehow managed to come with me after the break-up, purrs up at me as he rubs against my leg.
"Do you think I'm crazy, Feetsie?" I ask after picking him up and running my fingers through his smooth mane.
He purrs again and I kiss his nose, setting him down gently as I give myself one last look in the mirror.
"Well, it's now or never," I say out loud, more to myself than to Feets.
I lock my apartment door, walk out to the sidewalk, and hail the first cab I see. I give him the address and tell him to take his time, not wanting to be there too early. It takes exactly a half hour to get to the restaurant, and I have the cabbie drive me around the block for good measure. When he finally lets me out, I roll my eyes at the pathetic waste of the extra two dollars.
I take a deep breath and walk into the restaurant. Though it's dimly-lit and almost every table is full, I catch Ashley's eye immediately as if somehow drawn to her. She stands up and waves and I make my way towards her.
As I get closer, I notice how different she looks. I must have been in such a state of shock earlier today when we first ran into each other to notice, but now that I have time to really look at her, I realize it right away. Gone is the heavy eyeliner and mascara she used to wear, and in its place is light and moderately-applied makeup that bring out the deep chocolate in her eyes. Instead of the normal short skirts and chunky heels she used to wear day-in and day-out, she's wearing a simple black top and a pair of worn jeans. Her auburn hair hangs in loose curls around her face, but she's gotten rid of that streak of red she used to insist was fashionable. In short, she looks absolutely fucking beautiful, and I have to force my heart to slow down to a normal pace.
"Hey," she says gently, offering me that trademark Ashley Davies smile.
"Hey yourself," I reply, smiling back at her.
We sit down and a waiter is immediately at our table, asking for our drink orders. I allow Ashley to go first and set the tone, and when she orders a glass of white wine I ask for the same. Ashley laughs as the waiter walks away, and I raise an eyebrow to question her.
"I was just thinking," she says between giggles, "that the last time we were together, we weren't old enough to order a drink."
I join in her laughter and feel the tension begin to ease.
"I guess I never took you for a wine drinker," I say.
"I got over that whole slugging tequila and vodka shots phase a long time ago," she tells me, shrugging. "These days, I'm more of a glass of wine on special occasions type of girl."
"Is this a special occasion?" I ask her, smiling.
"I think so," she tells me, matching my smile. "How often do you run into your ex in the middle of broad daylight in a city this big after five years?"
We laugh again, despite the sting I feel of hearing her call me her ex. I grab the menu and begin to gloss over it, needing a distraction.
"I hear the pad Thai is amazing," she offers.
I peek at her over the top of my menu and notice her playing with a silver ring on her left hand, a gesture she always did when she was nervous. I smile at the memory, but then feel a panicked sense of dread that her ring is actually an engagement ring – or worse, a wedding band – and that I've misread this entire situation. My hands start to sweat and my heart races, and I reach for the glass of water next to me to take a large gulp.
"You okay, Spencer?" she asks, concern in her voice.
"Yeah," I say, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Look, I'm really nervous, too," she admits with a smile. "This is sorta awkward, you know? And after everything… can we just pretend that we're two old friends catching up, instead of, you know, two bitter and angry exes that haven't seen each other in years and could hardly stand to be in the same room together?"
Her last comment has me laughing yet again, and I silently thank her for the way she always knows how to break the tension.
"Agreed," I tell her, nodding firmly.
The waiter returns to the table and sets our glasses down.
"Thank God," Ashley says, reaching for the wine and taking a large sip.
"You believe in God?" I ask sarcastically, gasping in mock surprise.
She sticks her tongue out at me playfully and I smile, happy to have this version of Ashley back. We order our meals and settle back into our chairs. I know it's time to start talking, but I'm not sure where to start.
"So, where have you been the last few years?" she asks casually, trying to kick it off.
"Do you want the short, condensed version, or the long, boring story that my mother so proudly tells everyone she's ever met?" I ask with a smile and an eye roll.
"How is Paula?" Ashley asks, laughing.
"She's great, actually," I admit. "Still at the hospital, of course, but she doesn't work crazy hours anymore. She's about to be a grandmother, so –"
"Wait, hold the phone," Ashley interrupts, holding her hand up. "Grandmother?"
I laugh and shake my head. "Definitely not me," I assure her. "Glen and Chelsea. They got married a few years back and their first baby is due next month."
"Wow," she says, her eyes wide with surprise. "I never… I mean… I can't believe they…"
"I didn't think they'd last either," I admit. "But they're great together, and they're really happy."
"That's awesome," she says, smiling. "You'll have to tell them all I said hi, especially your dad."
"I will," I promise. "Speaking of… how's Kyla?"
"Married, of course," she says, rolling her eyes. "She met this guy, Ryan, a few years ago, and they actually just got married this summer. They live out in Boston now."
"Really?" I ask curiously. "Why Boston?"
"He got a job out there," she explains. "Kyla was so in love that she dropped everything out here and followed him to cold, snowy Boston. But, I guess it worked out in the end."
"That's really great," I say. "Tell her I said hi next time you talk to her."
"Definitely," she says.
Though my next question is on the tip of my tongue, I have a hard time spitting it out. Just the thought of him causes the vomit to rise up to my throat, but I have to know the answer.
"How's Aiden?" I ask, trying to sound calm.
"He's good," she replies after a moment. "He got married, too, believe it or not."
"Wait, are you… you're not…" I stutter.
"We never were," she interrupts me gently. "It was a stupid thing, me and Aiden, and if I could take anything in my entire life back, that would be it, in a heartbeat."
I look into her eyes and see honesty mirrored with pain. I had always secretly hoped that she regretted the affair with Aiden, and it's nice to hear her admit to that.
"Let me just say this and get this part out of the way, okay?" she asks gently, leaning across the table to look deeper into my eyes.
I nod but say nothing, allowing her to continue.
"What I did… what happened with Aiden," she begins slowly. "It was a mistake, Spencer. It was a big, huge, terrible mistake that I have regretted every single day of my life. And the worst thing about it was that I hurt you, especially after I promised not to. I just… I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way things ended between us."
I swallow hard and force back the tears threatening to fall.
"Hey, we both screwed up," I say, shrugging. "We both made mistakes."
"You didn't screw up nearly as bad as I did," she challenges me.
"Okay, you're right," I admit with a smile. "But in the end, we left each other. And I think it was for the best, you know? I mean, being on my own really forced me to find myself and live my own life, and I couldn't have done that with you. Not that I'm forgiving you for fucking Aiden…"
She laughs and nods her head in understanding.
"Just don't beat yourself up over it anymore, okay?" I ask her softly. "It's in the past."
"Thanks, Spence," she says, smiling at me.
I hold her gaze and she looks back at me so intently that I swear I can see her soul. I'm somewhat relieved when the waiter comes and brings our food, interrupting a moment so intense that I could have gotten lost in it forever.