When I met you

Dinner

Akermisia Miller

I arrive in my old neighborhood at four in the afternoon. Usually, I make the trip from college to home much faster, but today my mind was too far away for me to be proactive.

— Hi, little one.

Rosa says with a cheerful accent when she sees me walk through the kitchen door. She turns off the vacuum cleaner, pauses the music, and opens her arms toward me. Inevitably, I can’t resist and go straight to hug her.

— How are you, Rosa?

— The same as last month. — she smiles, squeezing me tightly.

Our monthly meetings are a routine. With my father always traveling for work and me living two hours away from home, Rosa is the salvation from the layer of dust that builds up while the house stays closed. Out of affection and habit, I come to see her every cleaning day on the 13th. I have the keys and the car, and honestly, college isn’t that far away. It would actually be easier to live here than share a cramped dorm room with someone else. Either way, staying in this house alone was never an option for me. It was strange to look at the furniture in the same place and know that now everything was different.

A different life.

If I stayed here, the ghosts of the past would never let me move on with my life. Maybe it was better this way, my old world locked away behind a key.

— Are you hungry? You look so skinny, dear. You know I can make lasagna if you’d like. You certainly can’t be eating properly at that university.

— I’m not hungry, Rosa. Thank you. But I’ll definitely take you up on that lasagna later.

— Whenever you want, little one. You already know that.

I nod, noticing her pull back slightly, her Spanish accent mixed with nervousness.

— What’s wrong? — I ask, because I know she wants to tell me something. I know her, perhaps as well as she knows me.

— I’m leaving, Isia.

Rosa turns to me with eyes full of restrained tears. It seemed she’d been struggling to reveal that secret for quite some time, and now that she was finally saying it, it was impossible not to notice the nervousness taking over her expression and voice.

The sudden information makes me choke.

The way she says my name ties a knot in my stomach. My mother used to call me that before she decided to start over her life far away from the daughter born from a failed marriage. Rosa had been with us back when she still did that, when I was a silly little girl and the world was a beautiful place, and my mother called me Isia.

— I need to go back to my country, dear. My parents are sick, and I can’t keep postponing the inevitable. I’m already getting old, and they’re even older.

Rosa was Colombian, but she’d been with us for so long that sometimes I forgot she wasn’t actually part of my family. And that her home wasn’t in the United States.

It wasn’t with us. I nodded without finding the right words to express myself. If Rosa left, I would lose the last connection to my family, the only thing left that connected me to the girl who had once lived in this house. But I couldn’t be selfish and ask her to stay. Not after she had been so loving toward me.

— And how are you going to manage over there?

I tried to focus on not looking too shaken, but I couldn’t fool myself. My head was pounding.

— I’ve already talked to a friend. I’m going to work part-time as a secretary at her sister’s office. It’s less demanding work, so I’ll have time to take care of my parents, and time for myself too.

— Have you told my parents yet?

She tightens her fingers around the dish towel.

— No.

— When do you plan to tell them?

— Soon.

— After you’ve already bought your ticket?

She smiles.

— Maybe.

I try to smile back as I rush to hug her again. I feel like an i***t, a silly and fragile child in her arms.

— I’m going to miss you, Rosa.

She stays silent, sniffling. After a moment, she strokes my hair and whispers:

— I’ll miss you too, my child.

I blink several times, holding back my tears. I wasn’t going to cry now. Not in front of Rosa.

— You know I’m paying for your ticket, right?

— Akermisia! — Rosa puts her hands on her hips.

— Hey, it’s the least I can do. — I explain. — Now, how about that lasagna for dinner?

Rosa doesn’t hesitate. A tearful smile spreads across her face, and she starts writing a shopping list. Ten minutes later, we’re heading toward the nearest grocery store.

We were distracted, listening to music, when my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“So, do you prefer a casual dinner or something at a fancy restaurant?”

No. No.

At what point had Adam Melchior gotten my phone number?

“Adam?”

“My, my, you already recognize my voice.”

At that very moment, even though we were on a call, I could have sworn I saw him smiling mischievously. Nervous, I set my wine glass down on the counter and stand up.

“How did you get my number?”

“A good player never reveals his tricks.”

“So that’s it? I’m a game to you?”

“You’re the one who started this, Akermisia.”

“Adam, I don’t have time for this… Please find another girl to bother.”

I’m so sharp that even Rosa notices. She turns toward me, realizing through the music that I’m on the phone. Rosa smiles and walks closer.

— Who’s on the phone, Isia?

From the other side of the line, I hear him smile.

“Isia? Seriously? I love the nickname.”

— Is it some college boyfriend? — Rosa perks up.

Oh my God. I can practically feel my soul dying the moment I realize Adam is laughing on the other end of the call.

— Invite him to dinner with us. I made plenty of lasagna. It’ll be fun.

“Lasagna? Is that really what I just heard?” Adam asks, clearly enjoying every second of this situation.

“Don’t even think about showing up here, Melchior,” I whisper threateningly.

Rosa frowns when she notices my attitude and snatches the phone from my hands. I try to grab it back, but she’s already chatting away with Adam, giving him the address and asking him to bring more wine. I try not to roll my eyes too dramatically when she hangs up and turns to me.

— He’s already on his way.

I take a deep breath. Could this possibly get any worse? A few minutes later, I was finishing setting the table when the doorbell rang.

— Aren’t you going to answer the door, dear? — Rosa asks, trying to peek through the kitchen window.

— I’m setting the table. Why don’t you go? You seem much more interested than I am.

— Don’t be rude, Akermisia. I didn’t raise you that way.

I spin around and head for the door with a bad mood I can’t control.

— I told you I wasn’t going out with you. — I say the moment I meet his eyes.

— And yet, look where I am. At your house.

He replies without a single ounce of shame.

I let out a mocking laugh.

Adam looked annoyingly incredible. Even dressed casually, he still managed to be the most attractive man I’d ever met.

Rosa appears right behind me because, of course, she couldn’t resist for long. Melchior walks in and immediately hugs her. The two of them get along instantly, especially after he shows her the bottle of wine in his hand.

I close the door, rolling my eyes.

The three of us have dinner together, and as much as I hate to admit it, it was fun.

Adam is funny and charming, and it’s so easy to like him.

The entire evening, I have to stop myself from laughing along with them or from falling for the illusion his eyes create whenever they settle on me.

He makes me fight constantly.

Against my instincts.

Against what I see.

Adam fills every space, even the ones I never knew existed.

At the end of the night, Rosa’s husband comes to pick her up. She apologizes for having to leave, but I can’t keep her here much longer—not tonight, and not for the rest of her life.

Rosa needed to follow her own path.

So I let her go.

— She’s a good person, and I don’t usually say that very often, but… I really like her.

He admits it, and even though my brain wants to crucify me for it, I offer him a genuine smile.

— She is. My parents were always absent when I was growing up, and afterward, whenever they weren’t working, they were fighting. So she was like a mother to me most of the time. She always will be.

The residential street is quiet, and at that moment all we can see from the front porch are the lights glowing from the neighboring houses, where families are having dinner beneath the warm light of fireplaces.

We had stepped outside to say goodbye to Rosa and head home, but for some reason we were still standing there, frozen on the sidewalk.

Maybe I wanted to savor the last moments of that memory.

It would be the last time I’d ever find Rosa in this house.

Having Adam there with me during a moment like this was insane.

But it was still my moment.

— I understand you far more than I’d like to.

He says it quietly, eyes distant, hands tucked into his pockets.

I turn toward him, our gazes briefly colliding.

And then I realize something.

Adam is vulnerable.

Talking about his family automatically destroys the carefully crafted image he maintains. It strips away the walls surrounding him and makes him seem more…

Real.

It’s the first time I’ve seen him beneath the pedestal where he keeps himself so untouchable.

I raise an eyebrow.

— So things in the perfect Melchior family aren’t actually that perfect?

— You have no idea. But apparently, things aren’t exactly perfect in the Miller family either.

— We’re the classic American family. — I joke, making him laugh. — Nothing here is perfect.

As if executing a calculated move, Adam fixes his eyes on mine as my smile fades, I feel my cheeks burning beneath the detailed attention he’s giving every part of my face.

— See? Dinner with me wasn’t so terrible after all.

— It wasn’t anything special either. — I reply, trying to maintain control.

— I promise I’ll take you somewhere exciting next time.

— And what makes you think there’ll be a next time?

Melchior stares at me seriously and seems confused for a second. Then he steps closer. His eyes locked on mine.

But he keeps moving forward.

Until my back hits the wall beside the front door and his face is only inches from mine.

— Because I believe in stories, and ours doesn’t end here, Isia.

An unsettling sensation that steals the air from my lungs. Adam doesn’t kiss me. He doesn’t even try. He simply steps back with that crooked smile that makes girls turn their heads wherever he goes.

— Good night, Miller.

And just like that, he turns around and leaves. I watch him walk away, climbing into the black Range Rover and starting the engine while I stand there still trying to catch my breath and figure out what the hell had just happened.