Chapter 2
The next night, Ethan took us to dinner at a restaurant two blocks from our apartment.
I told myself I was still thinking about the perfume because my parents had put me in a bad mood. That was easier than admitting the gift had bothered me for reasons I could not yet name.
The restaurant was crowded, warm with candlelight and the smell of grilled citrus. Vanessa sat across from me, scrolling through the menu while Ethan ordered a bottle of sparkling water for the table.
When the server came for dessert, Ethan barely looked at the menu.
"She'll have the mango panna cotta,"
he said, nodding toward me.
My hand stopped around my water glass.
The server waited. I looked at Ethan, expecting him to correct himself.
He didn't.
"I'm allergic to mango. "
His expression changed immediately.
"Right. Sorry. I forgot. "
He reached for the menu, but the apology landed strangely. Not because he had forgotten once. People forgot things. I had forgotten his flight number twice that year.
Then he turned to Vanessa.
"And for you, probably the dark chocolate tart. No caramel drizzle. "
Vanessa looked up.
"You remembered. "
"You said caramel makes everything too sweet. "
He said it casually, already handing the menu back.
I ran one finger along the condensation on my glass. A cold drop slid over my knuckle. My mango allergy was not a preference. I had ended up in urgent care once in college after a smoothie place mixed the wrong fruit into my order. Ethan had been there. He had held the paper bag while I shook from the medication.
Across the table, Vanessa broke a corner from the warm bread on her plate.
"The tart here is actually really good. "
I watched Ethan move the candle slightly so the flame would not blow toward her when the air-conditioning kicked on. It was such a small movement I might not have noticed it if I had not already been paying attention.
"You remembered what she doesn't like,"
I said.
"You forgot what I can't eat. "
Ethan's eyebrows drew together.
"Nora, I said I was sorry. "
"I know. "
That should have ended it. Usually, I would have made sure it did.
Vanessa shifted in her chair and gave me a quick smile.
"He probably just mixed things up. "
I looked at the untouched dessert spoon beside my plate. Its polished surface reflected the candle as a thin gold line.
Maybe he had.
The server returned with Vanessa's tart and a plain vanilla custard Ethan had ordered for me instead. He pushed it toward me as if the replacement solved the original problem.
I took one bite. It tasted fine. That almost made it worse.
On the walk home, Vanessa slipped her arm through mine and talked about a new account at work. Ethan walked on her other side, asking questions about people I had never heard of.
I listened more than I spoke.
At the apartment, Vanessa kicked off her heels and smiled at Ethan.
"At least Ethan never forgets what I like. "
She said it like a joke.
Ethan gave a small laugh.
He did not correct her.
And something I had been trying very hard not to name became impossible to ignore.
Ethan did not have a bad memory.
His attention was simply landing somewhere else.