Page 12 of Hard Rock Muse

4

The Reclaimed Records office building was right downtown, surrounded by dozens of shops and restaurants. That didn’t make my dilemma any easier.

I knew what Julian’s favorite foods used to be, but I didn’t know if that had changed since I’d last been with him. What if I chose something he no longer liked?

I realized the mental path I was going down and tried to change my line of thinking. Who cared if he liked what I chose or not? He’d left the decision up to me.

Still, I couldn’t help remember all the times Keith had left me to make a decision, only to be left feeling small and disheartened after my choice was chastised and derided. After a while, I learned to leave the decisions up to him. It was less painful that way.

As Julian and I walked down the street side by side, the tension between us grew. It wasn’t just because I was taking so long to pick somewhere to eat, although I did catch him side-eyeing me every time we walked passed another restaurant.

The tension was because of the awkward silence. Before, the silence between us had always felt comfortable. Julian was never one to talk much, and although I was chatty enough for the both of us, I was content to just be with him, even without words.

Now, though, that silence was long and drawn out. It felt like there was a vast canyon between us, as if each of us were trying to yell something at the other, but neither of us could hear. I would take a breath to say something, then think better of it and close my mouth. Julian would inhale, hold his breath for a beat, then exhale quietly.

There was so much unsaid between us. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. If we brought up the things we really wanted to say, the things we wanted to ask, we might end up fighting in the middle of the street.

But the thought of engaging in inane small talk with someone I once thought I’d spend the rest of my life with felt like torture.

“Are you okay?” Julian asked, breaking the silence and looking down at my feet.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I replied.

“Those shoes,” he said.

“What about them?”

“They look…” He trailed off, searching for words. “Awful.”

“Are you insulting my taste in clothing?” I asked, incredulous.

“No,” he shook his head. “Just… Don’t they squish your toes?”

I assumed he was referring to the pointed-toe style I was wearing.

“I wear heels all the time,” I told him.

Truthfully, the shoes were a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t used to wearing these kind of professional pumps. Give me a round-toed, thick-soled platform boot any day.

“We’ve been walking for a while,” Julian said. “Just want to make sure you’re okay in those.”

“I’m fine,” I said, irritated at both his concern and at the reminder I hadn’t chosen a place yet. “Here,” I said, stopping in front of the next place we passed, a Greek restaurant. “Let’s eat here.”And put an end to this nonsense.

“You don’t like feta,” he said.

I flushed. It was true, I wasn’t a fan of all the feta that came along with Greek food.

I scanned the area quickly and saw a spot.

“Fine, let’s go there instead,” I said. “Let’s get Japanese.”

“You do love spicy tuna,” Julian nodded.

It had been a while since I’d last had a spicy tuna roll. A long while, in fact. Keith wasn’t a fan of Japanese, so we never went. Even during the times when I’d stopped for lunch by myself, I’d rarely gone. Keith would ask where I’d eaten, then roll his eyes and go on and on about my weird taste in food. So I stopped, just to avoid hearing him put me down.

Shit, he really had done a number on me, hadn’t he?

“Let’s go,” I said, heading over to the restaurant with a confident stride I didn’t feel inside.