Charles offers to pay even though I invited him out for a drink this afternoon to celebrate his promotion. We waited weeks to do this, too busy with the end of the semester to find a time that worked for us. I thought Charles might cancel on me when I saw his schedule change, but instead he texted me from his office down the hall from mine and said he could meet me after a doctor’s appointment. I thought he might invite other co-workers to meet us and that would have been totally fine.
When he texted me that he’d finished up early, I snuck out the door without telling any of my colleagues I was leaving. Felt like a kid playing hooky. Felt giddy like a teenager with a first crush. Felt flattered he wanted to see me instead of coming back to work. I had questions to ask, to get to know him better, but we talk about work until our first drink was done. I knew if I had a second one, I wouldn’t be able to drive.
“You probably need to get home and catch up on work, right?”
He nods, but I want him to say, “No, I’ve got nothing else I need to do.”
But he reaches for his wallet, and I tell him no, I’ve got it. I invited him.
“Next time, it’s my treat.”
And I walk to my car thinking about next time.
At home, my husband asks why I was late.
“A retirement party. So many retirements,” I say.
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