Fail to Love by Maci Dillon

 

The Invitation

 

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” ~ Dr. Seuss

 

 

SEAN

 

I arrived at the restaurant early, my meeting cut short unexpectedly, so I decided to take a seat at the bar, enjoy a well-deserved whiskey and answer today’s emails I hadn’t yet had a chance to look at.

“Celebrating or avoiding today?” the barman asked as he pushed the glass with two fingers of whiskey across the bar at me.

“Excuse me?” I asked, confused by the question.

The barman chuckled. “I usually find on a Thursday night that people are either celebrating a win or avoiding the mess that has become their week. So, which is it for you?”

“Oh, right,” I mused. “Definitely, a win for me. Two actually. If I’m lucky, I’ll make it three before the night’s out.”

The middle-aged barman shared a knowing smile, filled his glass with a finger or two of whiskey, and held his glass in the air. “All the best, man.”

I clinked my glass in a toast. “To a trio of wins,” I added and took a sip of the top-shelf liquor.

My first win of the week was a discussion with Raven about my concerns of being a shitty partner, unable to give her the attention she deserved, my work always coming first. She reminded me she wasn’t my mother and our relationship was different.

We could learn from the mistakes my parents made. 

First, we agreed to always set aside time for each other, and if an emergency happened to take us away from that, we’d reschedule. She assured me open communication would ensure we could always move forward. No living in the past, and we would cherish every moment like it could end at any given moment. I loved her openness and her free spirit.

My second win was an invitation to speak at a medical conference in Paris, which I received and confirmed this afternoon seconds before calling Raven to meet me here.

My third win would come in the form of Raven accepting to go with me.

For the remainder of the hour, between filtering emails, I wrestled with ways to break the news to Raven. It deserved a romantic gesture, but I was anything but a man who spoke the language of love.

“I have a reservation. Name is Mathers.” I directed my request at the young lady, who barely looked old enough to earn a paycheck.

“Certainly, sir, let me find where you’ll be seated tonight.”

I nodded politely, checking my wrist again as if counting every second until Raven arrived.

“We have you dining at table forty-two tonight, sir. A table for two in a quiet area, is that correct?”

“That will be perfect, thank you,” I responded. I followed another waitress who magically appeared at the reception desk to the back of the restaurant and behind a semi-transparent privacy screen covered in a frosted, authentic oriental design.

Before I took my seat, I removed my phone from the inner pocket of my suit jacket. “May I get you anything while you wait, sir?”

“A bottle of your finest sauvignon blanc and a glass of water, please.”

While I waited, I tapped out a quick message to Raven advising where our table was located. The wine arrived just as I spotted my girl arriving fashionably late as usual. I loved the way she was always a quarter of an hour later than the rest of the world as if time should stand still for her.

And why shouldn’t it?

“Would you like me to pour now or wait for your guest to arrive, sir?”

“Now will be fine, thank you. My gorgeous date is right behind you.”

I excused myself from the table to take Raven by the hand, escort her the last few steps, and offer a seat. “I’m glad you could meet me on such short notice, sweetheart,” I murmured as I leaned in close to her ear and left a soft kiss on her cheek. “I know I’ve interrupted girls’ night for you.”

“For you, my handsome man, I’d do almost anything.” She smiled at me—the kind of smile that left me reeling for more of her attention—and repeated my words back to me, of the personal kind.

Faking a knife to the heart and a hurt look, I teased, “Almost?”

Raven laughed as she quickly swiped the glass of wine and raised it. “To a mid-week date with my guy.”

This woman did unimaginable things to my body. More alarming was the way she made my heart flutter and my mind wander. Focus was something I had little of these days, or at least it only happened for short periods.

Honestly, the only focus I had was when I was with a patient or in the operating room.

“Let’s order first because I’m fairly sure… well, hoping with all my fingers and toes crossed that you’ll be too excited to eat once I tell you why I’ve invited you here.”

“What? You can’t plant a seed like that and not water it. I hate surprises,” she pouted.

I laughed. “No, you love surprises. You just hate that you love them so much.”

Raven smirked. “Kind of sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Wasn’t that long ago I hated to like you, and now…” Her words tapered off, and I chose to deflect instead of pushing her further.

When the waiter appeared, I ordered a shrimp salad for Raven and a chicken Caesar for myself.

It was the first time we had dined here, and I specifically chose it because the area was quiet, the menu basic enough to order quickly and have our food on our plate before I burst with excitement about my news.

We discussed our past few days in more detail than we go into during our phone calls and also Raven’s meeting today with her business advisor and the builder. Within a couple of months, it would be all hands on deck, they’d be breaking ground, and construction would begin.

Once we were partway through our meals and almost at the end of our bottle of wine, I couldn’t stand the underlying reason for our being here and needed to get it out. “Hey, do you remember me discussing some upcoming international speaking engagements I was hoping to be called up for?”

“How could I forget. You were like a kid at Christmas when you were telling me about it… taking your knowledge and expertise internationally, teaching younger doctors around the world. What’s not to be excited about, right?”

“Exactly. And as the youngest surgeon in my field to branch out in private practice, I’d love to help and influence other surgeons across the globe to do the same. I think it’s important for accessibility, and many people are resorting to home or studio births these days.”

Raven put down her fork. “Oh my God, Sean. Did you receive an offer?”

My legs bounced enthusiastically beneath the table, my head nodded, and I was fueled with anticipation. “Yes. This afternoon. It’s why I called you mere seconds after I hung up the phone from them.”

“Sean,” she shrieked, springing from the table to throw her arms around me. “This is the best news, baby. Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.” Raven gushed with genuine exhilaration for me, and it was enough to bring an underappreciated man to his knees. Finally, I had somebody in my life worthy of my love and with whom I could share my greatest achievements with, someone who was genuinely proud of me.

I hugged Raven as if my life depended on it because she was my life now, whether she knew it or not.

When she released me, her questions were unleashed. “When? Where? How long for? What’s the conference?”

“Slow down and take a seat,” I suggested.

“Sure, sorry. I’m just so excited for you.”

I secured her hand in mine across the table. “Believe me, so am I, but there’s one more thing that could make my day even better.”

Raven frowned. “How could it possibly get any better?”

“First, I’ve been invited to speak to a room full of up-and-coming surgeons at a four-day conference about developments in Western medicine which impact gynecology and the conception in women over forty.”

“Damn, my man is taking his research global.”

I laughed at her wide, endearing eyes.

“There’s a catch. The conference is for four days in Paris.”

Her eyes widened further than I’d have thought possible. “The fuck? You’re going to Paris?”

“Actually, I was hoping we could go to Paris. Together?”

Her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth. Tear-laced eyes observed me from above her fingertips. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she whispered loudly before scouring the restaurant to check who may have heard her outburst. “You want me to go with you?” She was so overwhelmed and delighted, she couldn’t possibly say no.

“I do. But there’s one minor detail to consider.”

“What is it?”

“We fly out tomorrow. Both our tickets are booked.”