I told my brother when he said it was because of fate.” And now, I was the one pushing for this marriage.
“What happened then?” She moved back to her couch, pulling out her phone.
“I met you, and it was love at first sight.”
She rolled her eyes and started to scroll. “Are you okay with Chinese food?”
“Sure.” I took off the glasses as well as my hat, taking a seat beside her, and she leaned much closer into me. “May I help you?”
“You have something right here.” Her eyes were locked on my head like missiles. She reached out, and I felt her hands in my hair before—
“Hey!” I called as she yanked out a hair.
“You had a gray.”
“I do not!”
She lifted the small sliver curl right up to my face between my eyes. “And this is?”
“No.” I shook my head, rising and then racing to the mirror, running my hand through my hair. “I am far too young to be going gray!”
“Relax, it’s one gray—”
“No, I had a great uncle and second cousin that got gray hair in their twenties. Both of them ended up going full gray before they even turned fifty. How could I be next and not Arty?”
“You are so vain.”
I frowned, turning back to her. “And if you were graying early?”
“Hair dye or wigs.”
“And I am vain?”
“Everyone is a little vain.” She laughed, taking the M&Ms out of the bowl left for her to eat. “But it is fun seeing you panic.”
My shoulder fell. I swore this woman never allowed me to have a moment of glory or romance with her. Sighing, I turned back around to her. “How exactly am I supposed to approach you?”
She shrugged. “I told you it would not be easy.”
“Yes, but you like me. You are just not giving me a chance.”
“Who said I liked you?”
“Oh, so you go on dinner dates with men, accept the men’s flowers, reject those men, and then invite men for dinner again when you don’t like them?”
She glared, and I glared back. “You are ridiculous.”
“And you enjoy my ridiculous company,” I said, taking a seat next to her. “Admit it.”
“Nope, you are wrong. Sorry, your prince charms don’t have me swooning all over you.”
“Look into my eyes then.” I sat facing her, and I knew she would try to prove me wrong.
“I’m looking. What is supposed to be happening?”
“Shh,” I whispered. “Just look for two minutes.”
“Fine.”
She stared into my eyes, and I stared back into hers. Not a word was said, not a breath held.
How long were two minutes?
It felt much longer than I thought.
I could see every line, every crease, every strand of hair on his face. He was all I could see, and the longer I did, my heart began to thump.
“This is silly, Gale,” I whispered. I didn’t know why I was whispering, but I was.
“Are you giving up?”
“No, but what is this going to prove?”
A grin spread across his face. “I don’t know. I just wanted to take in your beauty for a few minutes.”
It was like he threw cold water at me.
“You!” I tried to push him out of my face, but he grabbed my hands, laughing.
“Sorry!” He laughed, holding on to me. “Look how flustered you are. Are you sure you did not feel anything? They say the eyes are the window into the soul.”
“I’m only feeling annoyed,” I snapped, though that wasn’t true.
“Why? Has our loved died?” he teased. “Will the sun never rise?”
“Are you mocking my lyrics?”
“Me? No. Never,” he lied—the nerve of this man.
“Those words are very personal. You can’t just go—”
“Forgive me,” he said quickly. “I was not trying to mock them... They were just so...”
“So, what?”
“Sad,” he replied, his voice fading. “Never listened to it before. I had heard it in passing by my sister, but as I said before, I always called it depressed-siren music.”
“Can I smack you?” I asked seriously. “Because you are definitely going about this flirting thing in the wrong way.”
“Oh, so will you tell me the right way to flirt with you?” His eyebrow rose.
“What I mean is—”
“How dare I insult your music like that?” he asked. “That is what it sounded like, that is what it still sounds like, and I did not realize how stunning it was until now. You are a storyteller with songs. You pulled everyone into your pain and gave them hope at the end. I see why my sister and Wolfgang are part of the Wyntor Nation.”
“Oh, my God, don’t say that! I