Gabriel and Gyan were college sweethearts, and they thought they had found the love of their lives. Then Gabriel got an opportunity in Australia, and he left behind a heartbroken Gyan.
It's been more than five years, and Gabriel finds hims...
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Enrique wanted us to eat out for lunch today since we usually stayed in Italia Beauty, and I could use it. I was trying to distract myself from the whole Steven situation. I was spending time with Kenji and Enrique. I was talking to Ma and my father. I was even talking to Angelica more. I was focused on work, and of course, Gyan. Anything to keep my mind occupied.
Thank God Steven still hadn't reached out to me.
Was that what he did?
Find people online, meet up with them to take advantage of them and then disappear?
I wasn't going to think about it. I was going to focus on Enrique. So, I turned to him with a smile as we walked out of Italia Beauty.
"Where do you wanna go?" he asked as we approached his silver Honda. "Angel's Pizzeria?"
"No!" Enrique's eyes widened at my outburst, and he opened the car door. "I mean, I'll rather not." We entered the car, and we buckled ourselves in. "I'm not interested in Italian right now."
Enrique bobbed his head as he started the engine. "That's cool. What are you interested in?"
"Chinese?" I was in the mood for some rice. "Is that good?"
"Chinese it is." Enrique reversed out of the parking spot, and we were off. "I still have to take you to an authentic Mexican restaurant."
"That can be next on our list."
"I'll hold you up on that," he said with a smile.
He played his favorites playlist, which had a lot of songs by an artist known as Bad Bunny. I recognized the Spanish instantly. He was Puerto Rican. That was the thing about Latin music. It involved a lot of dancing or the urge to dance. I wasn't a big fan of dancing, part of the reason I didn't enjoy listening to music. However, it was tolerable. Enrique sang along to the music and moved to the beat, and I grinned as I watched him.
Enrique chose the perfect time to re-enter my life. I needed him more than ever, and his presence did make everything easier.
He continued like this all the way to the Chinese restaurant. It was called Orient Café, and it was a small restaurant along a strip of buildings. Enrique and I entered, and we were led to our table, with Enrique requesting a booth. When we got seated, Enrique ordered a Pepsi while I got water.
Enrique and I looked to each other once our waiter left. "This is nice," I said, scanning the place. There weren't a lot of people, which I preferred. Enrique and I did have lunch outside the standard twelve to two time slot.
"So, you like Asian food?" he asked. "I've concluded that you're quite a picky eater."
"Some Asian food," I said. "Although, I don't really like fried rice." His eyes went round. "I prefer my rice plain."
