It was 6:30pm. I sat at our reserved table which boasted a gorgeous view of the pier below, and I reached to my thumb to turn my ring when I remembered that it was still in my other bag. I really needed to stick a note somewhere reminding me to grab it—but like many other things lately, it too, was consumed by my anxious nature.
Instead, I took a sip of the water in front of me and stared out at the blue waters, which were beginning to get an orange haze on them. I tapped the screen of my phone. We were supposed to meet here at 6:15 and I hadn't heard a word from Tyler. Maybe this was his plan: to stand me up. It was my fault after all, and hey, maybe it was for the better. I wouldn't have to face him and have an awkward conversation about the events of the other night.
Ten more minutes
