Second Chances, take 2.

This is a re-write of a story I wrote in 2014 (here). In this case, I've flipped it over to the other character's point of view. Same dialogue, but we'll see what happens.

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I walked down the street to a place I used to hang out. It had been ages since I'd been there last and I wondered if I'd see him or not. I got so caught up in my thinking I almost walked right by it.

Backing up a bit, I looked in the window. There he was in the center row, third booth from the front, facing the door. It was his usual spot. His sandy blonde hair was a little longer than I remembered, but it looked like him.

I opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods in the air was a familiar one. I took a couple of steps toward his table.

"Steven, is that you?"

Steven looked up at me, a bit of a surprised look on his face.

"Hey, Jen," he said. "It's been a long time."

"I meant to call," I said, walking over to the table. "It just happened so fast."

"What happened so fast? The wedding had been planned for over a year."

I closed my eyes and let my head drop until my chin was touching my chest, a soft sigh escaping my lips.

"I was scared," I whispered. "It seemed like you were too good to be true."

I slowly slid into the booth across the table from him. I looked up at him and saw the gentle gaze of his light blue eyes.

"You could have at least sent me a postcard," he said. "When I called your apartment, your roommate said you'd left and didn't say where you were going."

He closed his laptop, not bothering to turn it off first.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't tell anyone where I was going because I wasn't sure myself."

"And when you got there?"

"I figured you'd never want to speak to me again."

"Well, this conversation proves that wasn't true." He picked up the computer and put it down on the seat next to him.

I couldn't help but giggle a bit at that. My nose started to run a little, so I sniffled a bit before picking up a napkin to wipe it. After I put the napkin back on the table, I reached my hands across the table toward him.

"Do you believe in second chances?" I said, just above a whisper.

"You know I do," he said. He took my hands and smiled at me. "How did you even know I'd be here?"

"You're a creature of habit, my dear boy," I said, smiling back at him. "I remember the manager calling me one day when you didn't show up at your regular time."

"As I recall, you were taking care of me because I was on my couch, sick with the flu."

Steven didn't get sick often, but when he did, he was downright helpless, or so he would lead me to believe.

"Your memory is as sharp as I remember," I said.

Steven chuckled a little at that.

I said, "You know, I told my sister I was going to come down here."

"What did Susan say?" Steven said, smirking a bit. He and Susan were both writers and constantly threw sarcastic comments back and forth about each others projects. They got along almost as well as he and I did.

"She said, 'Be prepared for the worst, but I'll hope for the best.'"

"Good philosophy to live by." He started to put his laptop back in his bag. "You want to get dinner? I haven't eaten."

"Sure," I said, smiling a bit. "The all-night diner down by the river?"

"You know me too well."

We got up and I waited for him to put his jacket on. After he slid the strap of his computer bag over his shoulder, I grabbed his hand and started to gently lead him toward the door.

Sometimes, you have to take a chance to get a second one.