The cosy restaurant was buzzing when I pushed my way through the door, a small bell jingling overhead. Happy chatter filled the air, so at odds with the emotions churning inside of me. And yet, when Richie stood from the table and waved in greeting, it was like being bathed in the warmth of the sun. The sharp pain that was so intrinsically tangled up with the memories of the past was pushed aside. Soothed.

My lips automatically pulled up into an answering grin, my shoulders lifting and becoming less hunched under the brightness of his attention.

"I see your table is already here so go one through." The hostess stated, her gaze following the direction of my smile as she stepped to the side to let me pass.

Richie edged out from behind the table as I approached. He was in a new blue shirt, the lines of the fold still visible, and the tag still sticking out of the top. I tugged on the skirts of my dress as I approached. Maybe I should have done something with my hair? Or maybe I should have put on some make up?

I shook my head. When did I become that person? When did I care what other people thought?

I glanced at the other tables. Reached up and tucked an errant strand behind my ear. I was underdressed. There was no doubt about it. My steps slowed.

Before I could fuss over anything else, he was there. His arms wrapped around me in a moment, squashing me into a tight hug.  My face pressed against the stiff fabric of his shirt. I breathed in deeply, his favourite aftershave flooding my senses, while his shirt was coarse against my cheek.

"How are you doing?" Richie asked, pulling away just enough that he could see my face. "Did everything go okay with your sister?"

"Strangely, yes." As his eyes widened, I chuckled. "I know, I can hardly believe it myself. We've agreed to have dinner at some point in the future. It's not much but it's a start. "

Richie's hand reached up to squeeze my shoulder before he pulled away. "I'm so glad for you."

"Yeah, me too." I replied, my lips pulling up into a genuine smile. "Before we sit down, can I just -?"

Richie frowned as I reached up and snagged his collar, pulling him down towards me. His eyes widened briefly, a small gasp escaping his lips.

My cheeks grew warm even as I said, "You've left the tag on and it was sticking out. Are we tucking it in or tearing it off?"

His cheeks flushed red as he averted his eyes. "You can take it off. The tag, I mean."

Grasping his collar in one hand and the tag in the other, I gave a single sharp pull and tugged it free. I folded it before I could see the price and handed it over to him. He tucked it quickly into the pocket of his jeans, his face averted.

"Sorry, I didn't have anything that was – you know – appropriate."

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure we've all done it at some point in our lives." I pulled out a chair from the table and took a seat as he did the same. "But, if we're being completely honest. I like the way you normally dress."

"I'm not sure what I was thinking." Richie rubbed at the back of his neck before glancing down at his shirt with a strained laugh.

"Wait, I didn't mean it to come out like that. God, why am I always putting my foot in it when I am around you?" I shook my head before reaching out and placing my hand over his. "What I meant to say is that you look good. Really good, if I was being completely honest. The woman on table three rows back clearly agrees. She keeps looking over at you."

He started to turn his head before I nudged him with the toe of my sandal.

"Don't look!" I said, waiting until he was facing me once before I continued. "My point is, you look good. You also look good in what you normally wear. You didn't need to go to any trouble for me."

"Maybe I wanted to." He shrugged his shoulders in response before staring down at our joined hands. I swallowed and attempted to pull back but in an instant, he flipped his hand and wrapped his fingers around mine.

"You look good too." He said after a moment, his attention on my face rather than what I was wearing.

I shifted on my seat, my stomach fluttering as I dipped my gaze down to our hands.

"Thanks."

Silence feel between us, broken only by the click of cutlery and the gentle chatter coming from the table around us. My breath hitched. My heart skipped a beat, as I swiftly found myself lost in his gaze.

It's like being fifteen again - fifteen with not a bloody clue what to do next.

"Are we ready to order some drinks?"

I jumped and glanced up at the waiter who had appeared quietly to our side like a spectre. I breathed out slowly, grateful for the distraction. My body was doing strange and confusing things. Things it hadn't done for such a long time. It was like it was waking up after a long sleep only I hadn't been given the manual on how to interpret these weird and wonderful sensations.

"We have a great selection of wines which have been selected by our in house sommelier."

"I'll just take a lemonade." I replied, pushing the wine list away. Even the thought of drinking alcohol right now was enough to make me queasy, the memory of the mammoth sized hangover still too fresh in my mind.

"I'll take the same."

"Of course." The waiter said brightly. "I'll be over shortly with your drinks and to take your food order."

He swept away just as quickly as he arrived. My eyes followed his path before drifting to the loved up couples seated around us. I was looking but not really seeing.

And then, there was a flash of blonde across the room. For just a split second, I thought I saw her there. Mum. Her skin glowing with health and her gaze alert as she met my stare. Her eyes sparkled as she pressed her fingers to her lips and blew me a kiss.

A waitress stepped up to the table beside ours, blocking her from view. Sucking in a sharp breath, I leaned to the side to try and find her once more. Yet it was too late. The space was empty. My heart lurched.

Richie squeezed my hand. "Is everything okay?"

I shook my head, pushing my lips into a smile.  "Sorry, my mind is all over the place today."

"Anything I can help with?"

I shrugged my shoulders, glancing down at our joined hands, before looking up at his face.  "It's just -."

He gave my hand another squeeze. "Go on, you can say anything to me. You know that."

There was so much I could had started with. Too much I probably should have started with.  But, as he squeezed my hand, his attention making my stomach twist and churn, I blurted, "Is this what it's like to be on a date?"

My cheeks heated as I glanced away, focusing instead on the table beside us. "I've never been on one before, at least not one that didn't involve a trip to a drive thru and swapping bracelets, so I'm just curious. Not that this is a date. I mean, I know that but you -."

"Rosie, stop." Richie's voice was firm. "Look at me for a moment."

I dragged my gaze back to him, hating the heat seeping from my skin as if I had a terrible sunburn. I probably looked like a ripe tomato with how red my face was and there was no way to hide from it.

For a minute, a painfully long minute, he just stared at me, patiently waiting for something though I wasn't quite sure what.

Then, he eventually asked, "Do you want this to be a date?"

My mouth was suddenly dry. I blinked rapidly as I tried to formulate a response. "Well. I -."

What did I want? Did I want it to be a date? Did I want to date Richie? Yes. No. Maybe?

Eventually I shrugged my shoulders and whispered, "I don't know." Blowing out a breath, I forced my lips into a smile. "If you hadn't already guessed, I'm kind of a mess right now."

"I don't think you're a mess. You're just grieving." Richie replied, his thumb brushing in soothing circles on the back of my hand. "How about this? Today, we're just two friends having dinner but, when you're ready, I'll take you on a proper date."

My mouth opened and closed, a deep furrow forming between my eyebrows. "I don't understand." I replied, my hand lifting to tuck my hair behind my ear only for it to drop back out of place a moment later. "That night – you."

"The night I didn't take advantage of you?" Richie raised an eye brow. "I'm not in the habit of kissing or having sex with people as drunk as you were that night. I want a woman to kiss me because she wants to and not because she's too drunk to say no."

I swallowed. "Does that mean you wanted to kiss me?"

"If I'm being honest? I've liked you for a long time, Rosie. I've just been waiting for you to see it."

"Oh."

"Oh." He replied with a grin. "But there's no pressure. I enjoy being your friend. Yes, really. If that's all that you want from this, from us, that's okay."

"Can you give me some more time?" I squeezed his hand. "I think I want to explore this but, right now, I still have some things to figure out."

"Anything I can help with?"

I shook my head. "Unless you can tell me what I should be doing with my life, I don't see how you can."

"Well, I can't do that but maybe it would help to talk it through?"

I huffed out a snort. "I'm not sure you know what you're getting into. There's just – a lot."

"It doesn't hurt to try."

I sighed, "I guess I'm just trying to figure out what to do next. I always thought I would go back to university and finish off my course like everyone else. That was when I thought I would only be away from studying for a year. Maybe two. Yet, when Mum's condition worsened, the thought got pushed further and further to the back of my mind."  The waiter returned but, sensing the mood, swiftly deposited our drinks before murmuring they would be back to take our order in five minutes.

"Do you want to go back?"

I shook my head. "No. I don't think so. It's not even that I care about being a thirty year old in a room full of teenagers. I just no longer feel like that person. Those dreams I had when I was teenager? They're not there anymore. They belong to someone else. Does that make sense?"

He nodded, "It does. The things I wanted at eighteen are definitely not the things I want now."

I sighed, picked up my glass and took a sip. The sweet lemonade went down quickly, removing the dry scratchiness in my throat.  

"I just wish I knew what I wanted instead. How do people do it? How do they know what to do with themselves? Do they make a plan? Do they just blindly take a step forward and hope it's in the right direction. Because that's what I'm doing."

"I'm very much in the latter group." Richie commented. "I've never had a grand master plan. I think most people don't. We have small goals that we all try and strive for before moving on to the next. You don't need to everything figured out just yet. You've been through a lot. Maybe give yourself a bit of a break?"

I sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"Maybe I am."

We lapsed into silence, the background chatter of the restaurant filling the space between us. His thumb continued to rub lazily over the back of my hand, the touch small but comforting.

After a while, I murmured, "Maybe you can't tell me what to do with my life but you may be able to help me with something else."

"I can certainly try."

"I want find a man."

"After the conversation we just had, I can't say that I'm not a little bit put out." Richie teased, his jaw a little tight despite his tone.

I snorted and shook my head. "You know I didn't mean it like that." I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "I want to find the man my mum had an affair with. I think he might be my biological father."

"Oh, wow. Does your family know about this?"

"Unfortunately yes."

"Do you know for certain? You might be opening a can of worms for nothing." Richie stated, the voice of reason.

I let out a shaky breath, "I should do the test."

"Only if you want to. You don't have to do this."

"I know but I think I have to." I shrugged my shoulders. "I need to know for sure."

Richie nodded his head. "Okay, then we'll look into it first thing on Monday. For now, let's eat. I'm starving."

My stomach chose that moment to rumble its agreement. We both laughed the heaviness of our previous conversations swiftly forgotten.

Time went swiftly by as we ate, talked, and laughed. My future was still as unknown as it had been at the beginning of the day and yet, as I drifted to sleep a few hours later, I knew things were going to change.