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Immediately, an image pops into my mind of a bunch of teenagers dancing to this song, in this very diner long before I was a twinkle in my mom’s eyes.
Marc walks back to our booth and holds out his hand for me to take. Linking my hand with his, he pulls me until I am standing in front of him.
It isn’t until he spins me in a circle that I comprehend he wants to dance with me.
A laugh escapes my lips as he twirls me again and again. The stress and fear of seeing my ex-husband float away as laughter and giddiness take over.
Marc leads us back to the booth once our waitress delivers our shakes.
The older waitress immediately returns with our food.
“Is there anything else you two need for now?”
Marc speaks as I shake my head no. “We’re good, thanks.”
“Enjoy.” She says before helping another table.
Marc watches me as I take a bite of the cheeseburger.
A low moan escapes as the flavors explode in my mouth. The burger is hot. The lettuce is crisp. And the melted cheese is pure perfection.
After swallowing, I grin and say, “Mmm, this is incredible. No wonder you love coming here.”
“It’s never busy, and the food is always cooked fresh.” Marc takes a bite of his burger and smiles.
I’ve never watched someone eat before, but I am mesmerized by the way his tongue snakes out to swipe the drop of mustard off his bottom lip.
Needing to take my mind off his tongue, I change the subject. “Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”
Marc takes a bite of a fry while thinking of his answer. “Honestly, it was the first thing I could think of to get him to leave. I saw the fear in your eyes. It was as if you were begging me to help you and I didn’t know how.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Truly.”
Marc is genuine, and it did help get rid of my ex-husband, so there are no complaints from me.
Plus, it’s like a fantasy come true. Minus the ex-husband drama.
Marc hesitates for a moment before asking, “Not to be nosy or to open any old wounds, but what happened?”
I have never told anyone the full story, not even the police. It is my burden to carry around for the rest of my life.
Marc looks like he wishes he could take the question back.
“You don’t have to tell me. I know it is extremely personal and, by the looks of it, it’s still very new. I just want you to know that I am here for you, no matter what you need.”
Taking a deep breath, I pour my heart out to Marc.
“Our divorce was finalized a year ago. We were only married for six months, but those were the worst months of my life. Jared was constantly getting drunk and then driving home.”
I hated when he drove drunk. There’s a lot I could deal with, but drinking and driving wasn’t one of them.
Forgetting my food, I continue, “At first we argued all the time about it, but eventually, I was silenced. One night was so bad that I had to call for an ambulance. I filed for divorce the next day.”
I take another deep breath to keep my nerves calm so I don’t cry in front of him.
“Stupidly, I believed his promise to change his ways and took him back, but it only got worse. His anger only seemed to grow as the months went on. I no longer recognized the woman staring back in the mirror; I became a shell of myself.”
Marc reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine.