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He eventually takes the envelope, and I wait for him to open it, but he doesn’t. I let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of this exchange starting to wear on me. Why is it always back and forth with Jack? We’re always angsty about something whenever we’re in the same space.

“Are you going to open the envelope or not?”

Jack doesn’t respond. He just stares at me, his gaze cold, like he’s shutting himself off from everything. A strange lump forms in my throat, but I keep my stance firm.

“I suggest you open it and read through all the details quickly. The date is on Friday,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, though my nerves are starting to get the best of me.

Jack rises to his feet then, slowly, his eyes meeting mine with an icy intensity. His posture is stiff, almost confrontational, like he’s gearing up for something I can’t quite place. He doesn’t open the envelope just yet.

“Is that all?” His voice is colder than I expected.

His attitude is cutting. He’s so cold, I rise too, unable to bear it longer than necessary.

“Uh, yeah, no,” I say, shaking my head. The tension is too thick to ignore. “It’s going to be a double date.”

I watch Jack’s expression shift, but it’s not out of interest or excitement. He stares at me as if waiting for me to explain further, his face unreadable.

“You and Mirta. Me and Ryan,” I add, wondering why my heart is racing.

He doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his anger in the way his body stiffens, in the way his jaw clenches. I try to steady my breath, but it feels like the room is closing in on me. I expect him to say something, anything, but there’s nothing. He just turns and walks away from me, his silence louder than any words.

Before I can say anything else, he slams the door to his room behind him, and the sound echoes through the house. I stand there, frozen, the space between us widening with every second.

JACK

I’m rarely ever upset to the point where I’m literally seeing red. Growing up, after my mom left, I used to be an angry child, but Dad taught me that control is one of the best traits a man could have. He would say, “You can be angry, kid, but you don’t have to lash out and be mean.”

This is the only reason why I’m able to sit at this table with the perfect level of composure necessary to move this date along. Beside me, Mirta is seated in a pretty red dress and a gorgeous face, only paying attention to me.

Across the table are Mia and Ryan, and I can’t stop looking at her. I’m distracted, and I’m not sure why Mirta hasn’t realized that yet. I notice every time Ryan touches Mia and pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I notice every time he leans in to whisper in her ear, like the eatery is too loud for normal conversation. There’s a table between us, but it feels like a whole sea with how much they’re in their own little world.

Isn’t this a double date? Aren’t we supposed to interact with each other? But Ryan is hogging all of Mia’s attention, and Mirta and I could have as well been on a single date.

“What’s the problem, Jack?” Mirta leans in, and I catch a whiff of her vanilla scent. “You don’t like the food?”

“Oh, it’s perfect.” I stare down at my half-eaten plate of steak. “I just don’t like to rush food.”

“Oh,” she giggles. “So, Mia told me you’re new in town. What is it that you love the most about Bardstown? What do you find so special here?”

“She did?” I glance at her again, and this time I see Ryan leaning in toward Mia, whispering something, and Mia laughing so hard that her eyes wrinkle in the corners. What is so funny? Why does Ryan have to whisper it? I can’t stand him.

“Jack?” Mirta touches my arm, soft and pleasant. “You okay?”

“Oh, yes, sorry.” I try to tune back in, forcing a smile, and turn toward her. “Uh, Bardstown…” I mumble, struggling to form words. “It’s peaceful. Yeah, I guess that’s the best part about it. Peaceful, calm. No rush.”

Mirta tilts her head slightly, clearly sensing that something’s off. “Peaceful?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Is that all? You sure that’s your favorite thing about the place?”

I nod too quickly, suddenly feeling defensive. “Yeah, I mean, it’s… nice. The quiet. It’s good for thinking, you know?”

Mirta nods slowly. “I guess you can say that. It really is peaceful here.”

I force myself to focus, but the whole time, I can hear Ryan’s voice, low and smooth, making Mia laugh again. God, it’s making my blood boil.

“What about you?” I turn to Mirta, noting for the first time that night how gorgeous her eyes are. “What do you love most about the town?”

She smiles warmly. “Everything. But I love the people the most. They’re charming, welcoming. You could literally knock on anyone’s door and they’ll take you in, feed you, and let you spend the night.”

I laugh with her. “Well, I haven’t experimented with that. But I promise I’ll try and give you feedback.”