He was lying

NOELLE

Autumn, winters, thanksgiving or Valentine if that counted weren’t my best moments but I never really had a reason for not loving it, except I was born in the holidays and named after it. Glad I wasn't named Valentine or Valerie, no disrespect there but I'd rather not.

It was bad enough to be Noelle and Holly and my old man's dead jokes about decking halls with balls of Holly.

None of that mattered now.

It was Valentine's Day, our big day. I and the love of my life.

I took a good look at my fingers, I had gotten them done earlier in the day and made sure not to smudge the pastel pink polish, the gloss glistened under the yellow candle glow.

Clayton loved subtle colors.

You know how I said I hated holidays or disliked? Valentine's day didn't count because I always wished to be proposed to on the day of love. Sounds cliche and could get swallowed up with the army of reds and whites in restaurants, people smooching and professing undying love.

I know it could get swept under the buzz of dates and cards but engagements and proposals I believed were personal.

I looked up from my nails to the door, growing restless. 

Couple by couple, I waited for at least a single man hoping that one of which was Clayton. He usually closes from work earlier.

Our dinner was usually set at 8pm.

I watched Clayton walk in with a woman perched on his arm, his teeth barred in a far too happy smile. 

My smile fell as my almost waving arm did, and my excited anticipation was replaced with something unsettling.

Their arms were intertwined in a loop and she clung to him and he clung to her. I couldn’t make out the lady’s face since his tall structure shielded her from whatever dagger was coming her way.

I could see she was a brunette when her hair whipped back as she laughed at something Clay said to her.

Anyone could be a brunette or have other hair colors, right?

A waiter had come to fill the two glasses with white wine. It happened like a black and white memory playing at the back of my mind, I didn't even notice anyone else except Clay and his guest. Instead, the tall waiter was obstructing my view.

He smelt like the sea side and kitchen grease. More of the nostalgic soft smell of the ocean and the breeze if I wasn't feeling as bad as I was.

If my curiosity isn’t catered to at the moment, even vanilla would smell so bad.

The waiter didn’t move.

I poked my head away from the length of his stature and finally got a view but I was late. They were already sitting.

My skin crawled and my stomach suddenly felt sick.

Clayton wasn't that kind of man, he was too innocent and reserved for that.

I wanted to see if he pulled out the woman’s chair. I missed that beat and this young man here wasn’t letting me see who the woman was.

Instinctively and without much thought I finally looked up at my waiter. I was sure there was irritation and a frown rippling through my face.

“what?” I forced out. I wished I could blame the guy but he was not at fault in any way except pouring the wine slowly. The waiter’s eyes looked sparkly behind his geometric wire rimmed frame that looked like a pentagon, he was good looking but I needed none of that.

I looked away and made an attempt to see Clayton’s booth but couldn’t catch anything other than him laughing so heartily. The lady’s hand touched his arm and I could see her deep red nails, it was a sharp contrast to his signature blue shirt.

I thought he didn’t like all that. He didn't like shades that stood out. He complimented her nails and placed a kiss over her knuckles, He never complimented mine.

He always had a problem with holding my hand in public. He had never clung to me that way and when I dared to he pulled away as though he was doing something abominable.

His sleeves were rolled up and he looked haggardly handsome, for me he always had a full dress up with vest cardigans or suits sometimes, not a single button undone and his tie always at the very knot, I wondered if it wasn't uncomfortable to eat while your esophagus is being held.

I scoffed before taking a desperate gulp of water I almost choked on.

 The restaurant which was normally chilly felt warmer to my skin, maybe I was sitting too close to the kitchen. I was sitting in the corner. He liked to sit down to avoid drawing attention, but not now. Now he was sitting on the spot light, the event or highlight spot where we should be sitting.

The waiter knocked on my table rudely, pulling my attention back. It was then I realized I had been biting hard on my newly manicured nails. I hoped it was a joke, a dream, anything but a caricature.

I tucked my fingers under the table and chuckled nervously.

“May I bring your order ma’am?”

I dragged my eyes to look at the waiter. Brown hair that framed his face, an easy smile and goodness! If I thought he smelled like the ocean and its breeze, his eyes were a gorgeous green, clear and green.

My eyes found their way back to Clayton's booth, he had kissed the lady on the cheek, my throat went dry.

“You've been there all evening.” The waiter said and I glanced at him. He had noticed.

I glanced to the side. “Where's Ben?”

The waiter adjusted the pad in his hand, his pen ready to write. “He's not on call right now and I'll be serving you this evening.”

Distracted, I waved him off, still trying to catch a glance at the lady. “I made a reservation.”

“Baked Lobsters?”

I took a deep breath before looking at him. If he was trying to get under my skin, he was very skilled at it because my skin sure as hell was prickly. “Can you leave?”

He opened his mouth to speak but I didn't want to hear it, not right now. 

“Just refill my glass.”

He pointed a gaze to my glass, a beautiful smile perched on his lips, “you'd be drunk by the time you leave.”

Stunned by his persistent audacity, I turned my body to him on my seat, “and what’s that to you?” I said, feeling a pinch between my brows.

 “Please leave, I'll call if I want to eat.” I said and focused on my bane.

He stood there for a few seconds, hugging his pad to his chest.

My focus was back on.

There had to be some misunderstanding.

Definitely had to!

He had texted me.

Or no, I texted him.

But he had said we could have dinner tonight at our place, and our place was La Vista. 

What was he doing here with a strange lady?

He had sent a long paragraph, telling me how he loves me and would like to make it official.

Oddly he mentioned that since he had met me three years back he had been smitten.

I and Clayton had been together all our lives but I guess he realized he loved me three years ago.

He must have been shy because he deleted the text a few seconds after I had copied it to my notepad.

He deleted the text?

I snatched my phone from the table and dialed his number.

There was an inkling that a boulder was going to fall on my heart and shatter it but I did it still.

On the first ring, he picked up his phone and stared at it with an irritated expression before placing it face down. He said something to the lady I perceived as ‘it’s no one.’

I called again and this time he picked up, put his phone against his ear, his arms finally away from the brunette, he whispered into the phone.

I steadied my breath. 

“Where are you Clayton?” I tried to sound bright.

“I'm busy right now.”

I inched forward on my chair till I was barely sitting. 

Eyes trained on him “And our dinner.?’

He took a glance at his screen before putting it to his ear. 

“What dinner?” He said before covering his mouth with his palm, his eyes wide in shock. I heard him mumble, oh shit.

“I'm so busy at work. We can reschedule. Dinner on me at Rumble tomorrow okay. Love you, bye.”

And he ended the call.

He lied.