Jack called a couple days after our first official date and reiterated what a great time he’d had.
“I’d like to take you out this weekend, if you’re free?” he asked. “There’s a place called Silence Heart Nest. I was thinking we could get brunch and then walk through the Fremont Market.”
To say I was flattered by his thoughtfulness would be an understatement. Silence Heart Nest was a restaurant “owned and operated by students of the spiritual master Sri Chinmoy.” In other words, it was a little…unusual. Monks in robes with shaved heads—men and women—waited the tables. The whole place had an air of preserved calm. Plus, it was vegetarian. All this and a walk around a craft market? It sounded too good to be true. I was so touched he thought of me.
When we met that morning, it even felt too good to be true. Sitting at brunch, laughing and sharing our food, I felt like we’d shared lifetimes. I told him this as we walked to the car to head home.
“Do you think we might have known each other in a past life?”
“Maybe—” he smiled as our eyes met.
His car was in the shop, so I had driven that morning, but he opened my door for me, anyway. Before I got in, I wrapped my arms around him in a full body hug and relished the fated feeling of our friendship. I gave him one last squeeze, then got in the driver’s seat.
And thus began our bi-weekly ritual: dining out, drinking a lot, laughing more, and ending the night with a more-abrupt-than-he’d-like kiss. Occasionally he hinted at coming inside when he dropped me off, or he would invite me back to his place, but I always declined.
There were several reasons I was averse to escalating our relationship.
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