Another flash of lightning outside drew Sarah out of her reverie. She didn't have to wait long for the inevitable crash of thunder. As she suspected the storm was drawing nearer. It seemed to be growing stronger as well. By the time she got home she would be in the middle of it, and it would very likely be at its peak as well.
It was fitting. The rain and the thunder fitted her mood perfectly. When she arrived home she would unleash the fury of her own storm. If he was even there. Stood up on Valentine's Day. By her husband, no less.
"Sorry darling," his message read, "I'm stuck at work and running late. I'll be with you soon."
It was hours since she'd received that message and there was still no sign of him. How long had it been since the last time they had had a romantic evening together? She couldn't remember, it was that long ago. She didn't ask for much, one night. Just one night a year. But he couldn't even schedule her in for one night.
It was the worst night of the year to be alone in a restaurant. Watching all of the happy couples fed her fury. Seeing the looks in their eyes as they gazed at one another across the tables was enough to make her puke. Sarah wanted to be one of those couples, desperately. As it was she sat in the restaurant alone, humiliated and embarrassed.
The waiter was sweet to her. He'd brought her little nibbles from the tasting menu now and then. He was always cheerful, always had a smile for her. As hard as he was trying to make her feel better, it almost made it worse. She was exposed and all the world could see what a sham her marriage had become.
Lightning lit the room again and the lights went out. Moments later there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by hysterical laughter. The lights came up again as thunder rolled overhead.
Just like that she made her decision. It was over. Like a flash of lightning the conviction struck her. She couldn't live like this anymore, she needed her husband to be... what? Her husband! Damn it, she needed her husband to be with her.
"Can I get the bill, please," she said as the waiter went past.
"Of course," he replied, a sympathetic look on his face. Another damned sympathetic look.
The waiter returned moments later with the bill. As he handed it to her, he said, "I am so sorry your husband is not here. But if you wait just a little longer, maybe you could come dancing with me instead? My shift ends in twenty minutes. What do you say?"
"That's very kind, I'm sure your heart's in the right place, but I really don't need your pity."
"It's not pity. Any man would be thrilled to dance with you, I know I would. Take a chance, have a little fun, god knows you've earned it tonight."
She almost smiled, "Thank you, you're very sweet, but I don't think I'm in the mood anymore."
"Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. The offer's still open."
Sarah watched him as he walked away. She remembered what it was like to be young and spontaneous. Years ago she would have taken him up on the offer, just dropped her plans on a whim, and gone dancing. Not anymore though.
She watched the storm for a few minutes more, savouring the memory of the waiter's invitation. She realized suddenly that she wasn't old, not even thirty yet, not for a few months more anyway. She hadn't grown old, she had grown boring. Her husband's work had aged them both prematurely. His obsession with appearances had made them both dull.
"Excuse me," she called out.
The waiter heard her from across the dining room, he turned and left the people he was serving, leaving them looking surprised, and more than a little miffed.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked, with a smile that showed genuine happiness. "Have you changed your mind?"
Sarah was completely disarmed by his charming grin. He beamed at her, and his smile was infectious. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she said, "Well, you can stop calling me ma'am for one thing, my name's Sarah. And yes, I have changed my mind, I'd love to go dancing with you."
"Well, Sarah, I'm pleased to meet you, and I'll be very happy to take you dancing. My name's Tim by the way."
"I think you should serve that couple. I wouldn't want you to get fired."
Tim's smile had continued to grow, and now it looked like his face might crack open. He looked back at the couple he had left so abruptly. "Oh, they look pissed don't they? Excuse me."
He returned moments later with a small glass of wine. "My treat, it's a sweet little dessert wine. I hope you like it."
Later, he returned. Sarah almost didn't recognise him – he had changed his clothes. A nice shirt, much more colourful, more stylish, than her husband would wear, and the matching pants were tighter than her husband would wear as well. He had a cute arse.
Pinchable
, she thought, with an internal giggle. Maybe she was a little tipsy after the dessert wine. Not to mention the bottle of champagne she had had to drink all on her own.
"Let's go," he said, offering his hand to her.
She accepted his hand, and his chivalrous assistance in getting out of her chair. She noticed he kept hold of her hand as they walked out of the restaurant. She liked the feeling, it was nice to feel a little affection again.
How long has it been since Robert just held my hand?
she wondered.
The rain was coming down in cats and dogs outside and they huddled under the restaurant's awning. When Tim spotted a taxi he waved frantically, hoping to be seen through the rain and dark. His waving was to no avail. Almost too late he rushed out from what little shelter they had from the storm and hailed the taxi to a stop.
He opened the rear door and called to Sarah. When she realised that Tim was going to stand in the rain and hold the door for her, she ran to the taxi and entered as quickly as she could. Tim wasn't far behind.
