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It was a typical day, or at least that was what you told yourself. Quite frankly, you couldn’t be entirely certain on what a typical day was, but you figured that this was as typical as it got. You had gotten up in a regular fashion, done some cleaning, finished up some work, and then sat on your couch to catch up on the latest shows.
Pretty typical.
It was dark by the time you had pulled yourself up from the couch to try to make something of a meal for yourself. The TV continued to play in the background as you made your way to the kitchen, sorting through the pantry for any semblance of a decent meal. When you finally found something that satisfied your cravings, you got to work.
The food took almost no time at all to prepare, and soon you found yourself sitting back on the couch, munching on your meal quietly. Time passed relatively slow for the next hour or so, and you found yourself not really paying attention to what was on the TV. It’s not as though it was boring, but you just simply couldn’t focus.
Beside you, your phone lit up in the darkened room. You didn’t bat an eyelash at the sight of Tom’s name as it flashed across the screen. This was normal, and if you remembered correctly, he was supposed to be on a date at this very moment. So, the fact that he was calling you instead, didn’t really give you a good sign on how the date was going. Either that or he had proposed right on the spot. Whichever it was, you were certain to hear about it one way or another. You picked up the phone, sliding your thumb across the screen as you answered the call.
“Hello?” You said, pulling your feet up onto the couch, preparing yourself for anything he had to say. “Tom?”
Nobody responded, and you figured it must have been a butt dial. Made sense. Maybe. Hanging up, you put the phone back down. Within a fraction of a second, though, Tom’s name lit up the screen again.
“Yes?” You dragged out the word as you waited for him to respond.
“Sorry,” he rushed out. “I lost reception for a second, can you open your door?”
“Beg your pardon?” You asked, confused now as to why he was asking you to do such a thing. Of course, it obviously meant that he was there, but you wanted to know why he was there to begin with. “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know, out?”
“Yes,” he sighed. “We called it quits early.”
Standing up, you kept your cell phone nestled against your ear. “What do you mean you called it quits early? Who ends a date early?” You opened the door, and before you could even properly greet him, Tom was entering your home.
“I do,” he said, sliding his shoes off before walking into your living room. He plopped himself onto the couch as you ended the call from the main hall. You approached him slowly, watching as he leaned his head back against the cushions and ran his hands over his face. Upon seeing his tired expression, you walked into your kitchen, grabbing a glass and the whiskey that you kept on hand for these types of situations.
You made your way back into the adjacent room and sat beside Tom, holding out the glass for him to take. He mumbled a quick ‘Thank you’ before taking a sip.
“Care to explain?” You asked, reaching over his lap for the remote. After muting the TV, you raised your brow at him, indicating that you wanted an explanation.
“She was nice,” he said.
“Okay, so what’s the problem?”
“Everything else was the problem. She was on her phone half the time, and she only ever asked about my work.” He sighed, looking more upset about the fact that he was complaining than the fact that his date was a complete bust.
You nodded slowly, realizing that this was the epitome of everything Tom did not want to see on a date. He was the type to turn off his phone for hours at a time, and not only that, but he made it a point not to bring his job into conversation. He loved what he did, and he knew that there were people who were genuinely curious. However, he was not a fan of a date that felt like an interview.
“I thought it was going to go really well,” he sighed again, taking another sip from the glass you had given him. “It’s quite disappointing.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t go as planned,” you said, leaning back as you watched him set the glass on the coffee table.
There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you before Tom spoke up again. He turned himself to you completely as he spoke, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” you replied.
“You listen to my stories about dating, but I never hear about yours.” He pointed out, but he didn’t bother waiting for you to comment on it. “I know it’s because you don’t really date.”
You hummed in response, averting your eyes from his gaze as you did so. “Why don’t you?” He asked. “You’re an attractive woman, you’re kind, and you’re more attentive than half the people I know. You have amazing qualities, yet I’ve never actually seen you go on a proper date with someone.”
It was your turn to sigh this time. This night was supposed to be about him, you thought. Of all the questions he had to ask, he just had to go and ask something like this.
“Honestly?” You questioned, finally meeting his watchful gaze.
“Well, honesty is preferred,” he responded. His counter remark was most likely meant to lighten the weight of the question.
“I don’t see the point,” the words flowed easily enough as you said them. Even with the ease that came with the response, you could feel the air around you grow tense. “I get close to someone, and soon enough they’re already bored of me and leaving me behind. Why should I bother putting myself through that time after time? The outcome’s the same. Everyone always ends up leaving me in the end. I’ll just be alone again.” You shrugged it off as you finished the explanation, but Tom’s expression only seemed to grow more intense.
The two of you sat in peaceful silence, allowing the words to fully sink in before either of you even attempted to follow up such a heavy response. Tom reached for his drink, but his hand faltered. He fell back against the couch, turning to look at you.
“You know I’ll never leave you right?” He asked, his expression much more serious than you had expected it to be.
You opened your mouth to speak, but he held his hand up. If anyone else had done such a gesture, it may have seemed rude, but for Tom, it was his way of cutting you off without verbally doing so.
“No, wait, listen,” he leaned forward, grabbing your hand. “You’re my closest friend, and you have been there for me on countless occasions. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, I am here. Even if you think the entire world is against you, and even if it seems like you’re alone, I promise you — no, I swear to you, that I will never leave you like that.”
Your hands were growing clammy as you processed his words. Holding back the urge to let yourself cry, you smiled. You brought your other hand to rest on top of his, patting it lightly in reassurance.
“I know, Tom,” you said quietly.
The truth was you hadn’t known. You expected everyone to leave you, and this man was no exception to that. But sitting there and having him speak so sincerely with the most earnest look in his eyes, you couldn’t find a reason not to believe him.
“I know,” you repeated more for yourself than for him, and you felt him squeeze your hand.
“Good.”