nothing to say

I’ll start out by saying that it was not the perfect romance. We were not the perfect couple, and we didn’t have the fairytale relationship that some people would make you think we had. We were that “on the outside” couple because on the outside we were ideal. On the outside, we were everything that two people together wished they had. We looked like we were happy . . . on the outside. Well, I suppose not necessarily just from other people’s perspectives. Wade thought the same as everyone else too-that we were perfectly happy together. I guess I was the only one who disagreed.

As I looked at him across the table, watching him chew his forty-dollar steak and drink his hundred-dollar bottle of Dom Perignon, my heart sank. Tonight was the night, wasn’t it? He glanced up at me and smiled, his straight, gleaming white teeth, with never so much as a piece of pepper stuck in them, nearly blinding me from reflecting the candlelight.

“Is your food all right?” he asked, seemingly truly concerned. My stomach turned. Always such the gentleman, I thought. He was constantly so attentive; there was never any room for complaints. I finished my glass of champagne, and before I set it back on the table, he was there ready to fill it up again. I waved my hand at the air to alert him to my complete disinterest in getting drunk.

“No more, thank you,” I said ever-so politely. On the outside, I was quite the well-mannered lady.

He began to ramble about his work while I slowly drifted into my own mind. His work was one of the biggest priorities in life, which, I suppose, was why he was so successful. Wade worked as an investment banker and was at the top of his game. His passion about his job gave him an edge in his work strategies and allowed him to become a very wealthy man at the age of twenty-nine. Mentioned a good handful of times in Forbes magazine, Wade loved to talk about anything pertaining to his profession. It made me sick.

We were, thankfully, interrupted by a speech from the waiter about the wondrous selection of desserts they offered. Then it hit me that I shouldn’t order any dessert. I didn’t want to end up having something hidden in a piece of pie or a slice of cake.

“Wow, all of that sounds just wonderful . . .” Wade began to say.

“. . . But unfortunately, I think that we’ll have to pass tonight,” I finished. “The food was just so delicious I don’t think I have room for anything else.” I smiled and gently batted my eyelashes. That always seemed to halt any future conversation or debate. It was kind of like my secret weapon.

“Are you sure, honey?” Wade asked, as he reached across the table to hold my hand. “If you want anything else, you know you can have it. We could have them wrap up a dessert and bring it back to the house if you want.”

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