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She seems surprised as her eyebrows furrow. “Dance?”
I can't hold back a light chuckle. “Did you come here to dance tonight, or did you come here to talk to your ex?” The words come out playful and she actually smiles this time.
“I was asking if you were asking me to dance,” she clarifies.
“I think I was.”
She hesitates and looks at her friends, who are watching us with curiosity and concern as they dance on the crowded floor.
“They’ll be fine,” I say. “They’ll understand.”
“Can you dance?” she asks.
“I can dance,” I say, my mind flashing back to lessons with Miss Porter every Tuesday and Thursday for six years straight.
“Can you teach me?” she asks, a smile on her beautiful face.
“I can try,” I say. With those words I take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. As if on cue, the music switches to a slow song and all around us couples start pairing up to sway back and forth. I grab her hips and pull her in close as she winds her arms around my shoulders.
I can tell she's still a million miles away in her own mind, but I'm not sure what to say or do to alleviate that. “You deserve to have fun on your vacation.”
As I say the words, she physically jolts, jerking her head back to start up into my eyes. “I guess I'm pretty obvious, huh?”
“And that's fine. I'm not going to hold it against you. I just want you to know that you deserve better.” Whoever this prick is that's trying to ruin her good time, I'd like to ruin his fun for a while.
“Thank you,” she says again, snuggling in close to me. “He just wants to talk about us.”
“Us?” I don't understand what she means, and she quickly backpedals.
“Sorry,” she gives her head a slight shake as she smiles, “not you and me - us. He and I - us.”
“Ah,” I say, tilting my head up as I understand what she meant.
“But there is no us.” Her cheeks begin to go red and I sense she's embarrassed about whatever happened between them. I'm not going to push, but I'll absolutely listen if she wants to continue to talk.
“Whatever he did to drive you away, he was a fool.” My words sound as sincere as I feel - and I feel totally sincere. Zoe is fun, wonderful, funny, smart - the kind of woman any man would be lucky to be a partner to.
“Now you sound like my friends.” She glances around, as if looking for them. I follow her gaze and find them at the table they'd shared, watching us with great interest while talking. “He wants me back.”
I don't like the sound of that.
“Do you want him back?” I ask, not sure I want to hear the answer.
“Absolutely not.” There’s such a firm edge in her voice I wonder what he did to completely alienate her and destroy any possibility of reconciliation. If I had to guess off the top of my head, I'd say he cheated. What a fool.
I pull her a little closer and she rests her cheek on my chest as if to listen to my heartbeat. “If you don't want him back, why are you listening to him?” I don’t say the words with any cruelty in my heart. I just want her to realize that she's allowing him to ruin her vacation.
“That's just it. I'm not listening to him. I told him to leave me alone.” She sounds frustrated.
“And he’s not listening?” I ask. “Why don’t you block him?” Given how simple the answer is, I imagine she’s either already done so, or has been too flustered to remember that’s an option. I’m not judging either way.
“I have blocked him, but he keeps finding ways to contact me.” I can feel her body tensing up as she speaks and know that this whole situation with him is stressing her out.
“How so?” I ask.
“Like calling from restricted or blocked numbers and from friends' phones or reaching out to me from new accounts he’s creating on social media.” With that clarity, something cold tickles up my spine.
“That sounds like harassment.” The guy's obviously a stalker, through and through, and I'm worried about her safety now. A little voice in me whispers that I shouldn't be so invested with this stranger, but now I'm hooked. I'm not the type to try to save anyone, but nobody should have to go through what she's dealing with.
