Someone Like Me

Chapter 8

"Sorry, I just realised that to you I'm basically a complete stranger and here I am asking you personal questions in the middle of the meat section." He laughs loudly, the sound echoing through the empty aisle. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No, it's okay. We dated in high school and haven't spoken since then. We just kind of reconnected again, recently."

I have no idea why I am telling him this; after all I don't really know him. But he just has such a kind and honest face that I feel myself warming up to him. He's the kind of person I could see myself being friends with.

His warm blue eyes meet mine. "If I had a woman like you, I'd never let her go in the first place."

I feel the blush crawl up my cheeks at his words, unsure of how to respond. I'm not used to people saying stuff like that to me. Especially not when I have just finished a long day of work and I am looking less than my best.

"Sorry, I'm overstepping again!" He turns his shopping cart around. "It was nice to see you Diana. I hope you come this weekend." And with that he walks away, pushing his cart up the aisle and humming softly to himself, leaving me standing by the rows of frozen meat, still unsure of what just happened.

♡

The champagne is chilling, the chicken's in the oven and the salad has been tossed.

Mason's late.

I'm not even surprised. The only thing I am worried about is the chicken drying out. Which is actually my fault, I should have known he wouldn't be on time. He never is.

I smooth down my dress and check the table again. I set it up with place mats, napkins, candles and even a small vase of flowers in the centre, wanting to make tonight really special. The berries are in the fridge, ready to be placed in the champagne flutes.

I check the time again, its twenty past seven. He was due here at seven. So only twenty minutes, not too bad.

By half past, I turn off the oven.

By forty minutes past, I blow out the candles on the table.

By five past eight, I slip off my heels, convinced he has forgotten.

When there is a knock on the door at quarter past eight, all my excitement has been drained out of me. He is an hour and fifteen minutes late, and suddenly I'm not so sure I want to see him anymore.

I leave my heels off and go to the door barefoot, opening it to find a bunch of flowers staring at me. The riot of colours is not enough to diminish my anger towards him.

"Hi, Di." He hands me the bouquet and gives me a kiss on the cheek, before entering my apartment. "Wow this place is nice."

"Hi? Is that all you have to say to me?"

He turns back to look at me and notices my bare feet. "Where are your shoes?"

Because apparently that's the most important thing right now.

"I took them off. I didn't think you were coming."

He seems puzzled, a frown crossing his face. "Why wouldn't I be coming?"

"Because you are over an hour late." I point out bluntly, taking a step away from him.

It is only then that Mason seems to take in the scene before him; the beautifully laid out table, the blown out candles and the salad that has started to wilt slightly, the lettuce curling in on itself.

"Di, I'm sorry." He crosses over to me and takes me in his arms, the flowers getting crushed between us, petals falling to the floor. The scent of alcohol floods my nostrils. "I went for a drink with the guys from work, I must have lost track of the time."