copyright©2025
FIRST DATE
On Thursday, Ken sent me a message saying he had to leave town for some car-related business and wouldn’t be able to meet. I didn’t reply. I let it be, leaving the evening to chance.
That night, as planned, I met Jack at Lawlors. We found a quiet table and ended up talking for hours. There was something about him that held my attention—an effortless confidence in the way he spoke, as if he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, just sharing what he knew. I was drawn in, genuinely curious.
He spoke openly about his family—three sisters and a brother. Their names were unfamiliar to me at first, unusual and musical. I repeated them softly, trying to remember: Loraine, Caoimhe, Sean. They all lived nearby, close to where his parents still lived.
Everything about him—the way he talked, his warmth, his easy sense of place—felt undeniably Irish.
I can’t even remember what we were talking about when the pub door creaked open and Ken’s face appeared in the doorway. I had spent the entire evening silently willing him not to show up—not to catch me there, sitting so close to Jack.
The moment our eyes met, my whole body went rigid. Fear pinned me to my seat. He saw us. There was no mistaking it. But he didn’t say a word. He just turned around and walked away.
My stomach twisted into knots.
Jack glanced toward the door, then back at me with a puzzled look.
“I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why would Kenneth just leave like that after seeing us together? If I caught my girl with someone else, I wouldn’t just walk away. I’d do something about it.”
I didn’t know what to say. Maybe he was right.
And yet, deep down, I wasn’t sorry. I was happy with Jack. And even knowing everything I do now—I’d still make the same choice all over again.
When we left the pub, the cool night air wrapped around us like a soft blanket. We were both laughing freely, caught up in a warm, lighthearted mood. Every little thing seemed funny or sweet, and I found myself pulling him closer, unable to stop smiling. Without thinking twice, I invited him back to my place, knowing Marketa was already asleep just behind the door in the next room.
Jack and I squeezed into the tiny kitchen—a cozy little space with just one small table, two chairs, and an old stove standing silently in the corner. The room felt quiet and intimate, a sharp contrast to the noisy pub we’d left behind. I was dizzy from the wine and from the strange, fluttering feeling inside me—part excitement, part something softer, maybe even the beginning of love.
For a moment, I let myself forget everything else—the worries, the world outside—and just be with him. He reached for me gently, his lips brushing against mine, soft and sure. His arms wrapped around me, steady and warm, grounding me in that perfect, quiet night.
He didn’t leave. He stayed. And in that small kitchen, under the quiet hum of the night, something quietly began between us.
Marketa was already asleep on our shared bunk bed in the cramped little room. I didn’t want to wake her, but the need to be close to him was too strong to ignore. I didn’t want him to leave—not tonight. We slipped quietly into bed together, his warm body pressing gently against mine. Even through his sweater, I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He didn’t feel like a stranger; he felt… familiar. Like someone I’d known long ago, someone I was only just beginning to remember.
We didn’t really sleep. Instead, we spent the night tracing each other’s faces, curled up like two kittens, sharing soft laughter. And kissing—always kissing.
But Marketa wasn’t asleep either. At one point, she lost her patience and hissed from the darkness.
“You don’t even know him!” she snapped.
“I do!” I shot back.
“Then marry him if you know him so well!”
“Yeah! I will! Tomorrow!” I retorted—and then Jack and I dissolved into quiet giggles.
Later, he finally fell asleep and started snoring so loudly I couldn’t sleep either. But it was adorable. I didn’t have the heart to nudge him. I watched him instead, like he was something sacred. I stroked his chest as though he belonged to me and me alone. I clung to the quiet comfort of knowing he wasn’t going anywhere. Not tonight.
Eventually, Marketa gave up and moved into the kitchen. I felt bad for her. But in that moment, Jack meant more—even more than my best friend’s sanity.
Morning came. I had to go to work at Roosters, and Jack had to head home. As he rushed off to the bathroom, I sat there still drunk on happiness, soaking up every last second. It was the first time I’d woken up next to someone who truly meant something to me. I wanted to etch the moment into memory forever.
When he came back, he kissed me and gently reminded me not to be late for work. I knew what awaited me: a monotonous day flipping burgers for impatient customers.
“Will I see you again?” I asked, careful not to sound too eager.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”
He took my number. I had no choice but to hope he meant it. We agreed to meet the next day at Phelans.
But something inside me shifted that day—an inexplicable change that stirred my soul. The morning had unfolded with flawless grace, yet beneath its perfection, a quiet guilt began to gnaw at my heart. A choice loomed before me, sharp and unavoidable: Ken or Jack. I could not have both. Nor did I wish to.
With Ken, there was a comforting clarity—what I saw was exactly what I received. But Jack was an enigma, his presence the very shadow of Ken’s light. There was a secret about him, something veiled and elusive. I sensed, with a knot of unease, that a man like Jack could claim any woman’s heart he desired—countless hearts, perhaps. At times, he was distant, almost cold, leaving me adrift in uncertainty. And in that indecision, I found myself frozen, caught between two worlds. The only certainty I could grasp was that, inevitably, someone’s heart would break.
After work, I took a quiet walk through the park, silently hoping for some clarity. My mind told me Ken was the safe choice—that calm, steady voice of reason. But my heart whispered something different: “Stop hesitating. You want Jack. Go to him.”
Inside me, a quiet struggle unfolded, a tug-of-war between caution and desire. I wished for someone to talk to—someone who might understand what I was feeling.
Then, quite suddenly, a car pulled up beside me. It was Ken. He met my eyes with a quiet sadness, said nothing, but gently motioned for me to get in. He told me he would drive me home. I didn’t understand why he had come, yet somehow, it felt like an answer to my silent plea. Only, instead of Jack, it was Ken who was there.
Guilt settled over me like a shadow. After a long, thoughtful silence, I told him I needed time to think. I never mentioned Jack—there was no need. Ken seemed to understand everything without a single word, and for that, I was quietly grateful.
Somehow, instead of heading to meet Jack at Phelan’s, I found myself in Carlow with Ken. He took me to play pool, and slowly, the weight pressing on my chest began to ease. In that moment, Jack faded from my mind. I needed that — a brief escape to clear my thoughts.
We played, we laughed. Ken was simply my friend, and I allowed him that space. His kindness soothed my restless heart. By the night’s end, I hadn’t reached any decision, but I felt lighter—not because I was resolving anything, but because being with Ken felt… natural. Like breathing.
The next evening, I was back at work when Jack walked into Roosters. The moment I saw him, my heart sank. Panic gripped me. I felt ashamed. Or was it fear? His face was like ice, not a trace of a smile. He looked furious. I didn’t dare leave the kitchen while he was at the counter. Then he left.
As soon as I stepped out, Allison and Eileen were on me.
“What the hell did you do?” Allison asked, eyes wide.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered.
“That guy definitely didn’t look like nothing happened, Teri.”
I didn’t understand why he’d be mad. Was it because I didn’t show up at Phelans? Probably.
“He was here just for you,” Allison said.
“How do you know? Maybe he just came for food. Maybe he didn’t care about me at all,” I whispered.
Allison scoffed. “Come on. He looked like someone ran over his dog. And after he left, he tossed his burger straight into the trash. He came here to see you.”
It started to sink in. Slowly.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, nervous.
“If I were you, I’d go after him. He’s probably still nearby.”
“No,” I said. “I’ll just embarrass myself. Besides… I have Ken.”
Allison rolled her eyes in that familiar way. “Do you really want to settle for Ken? He’s a cop—predictable, boring. You’ll end up with ten kids, wondering where the spark went. Jack is fire. He smells like adventure. You’re young—live a little.”
Her words planted a seed of doubt that took root deep inside me. I wanted to run after Jack, to reach for what felt forbidden. But my legs betrayed me—heavy, useless. I just sat there, frozen, until Allison and Eileen hatched a new plan.
“Call him at Phelan’s. Apologize,” Allison urged.
“You call,” I said quickly, panic rising. “My English is terrible. I won’t understand a word.”
To my surprise, she agreed. With calm determination, she dialed Phelan’s and asked for Jack. I held my breath.
“Nope, not here. Let’s try Lawlor’s,” she said, undeterred.
She dialed again, effortlessly repeating her plea. Then, a smile broke across her face.
“He’s there. They’re putting him on.”
My blood ran cold.
What is he going to say? That I should go screw myself?
“Allison from Roosters here. Teri’s right beside me. She’s too nervous to talk, but she really wants to apologize. She’d love to see you—if you’re still interested… Yeah… okay… I’ll tell her. Thanks, take care.”
She hung up and looked at me with a grin.
“He was a bit mad at first. But then he laughed. He said to call him tomorrow. Exactly at twelve. Not a minute late.”
“Okay... thanks,” I whispered, barely believing it.
He’d given me a chance. And I wasn’t going to let it slip away—not for anything. Even if fear held me tight. Even if doubt whispered I wasn’t enough. Even if, deep down, I feared I didn’t deserve him.
But I would call him.
Even if hell froze over.
copyright©2025
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