Aria

10- Aria (EDITED)

Gunner dropped Walter and me off at the Italian restaurant he had chosen, and Walter's smile on his face as I helped him inside was priceless. Knowing the reason behind his beaming ray of light smile made me smile because I knew it was because of me, how I finally gave in after six years of him trying and allowed him to take me on a dinner date.

I felt a pair of eyes staring at me as I looked at the menu; and flickered my eyes up over the top of the menu and stopped when my eyes greeted Walter's inquisitive eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm curious if you've figured out what you're having or if you need my help to decide on what you're hungry for?"

Gunner must have warned him that it takes me a while to decide what I'm hungry for.

I giggled softly and shook my head as I looked back at the menu. "No, I haven't decided yet. However, there are a couple of items on the menu that I'm contemplating which one I want more."

"Why contemplate? It's simple; just choose what looks and sounds good, and be done," he pushed, shrugging a shoulder.

My lips twisted. "It's not that easy for me, especially since I have to watch what I eat. You know how Neron is. If I even look at a particular food item, he punishes me for it. And I don't feel like being disciplined for eating something he disapproves of."

He chuckled. "I hate to break this to you, but no matter what you choose to eat, you're fucked."

"Not really. I'm supposed to eat protein and carbs; how the meal is prepared is what'll fuck me."

He laughed. "Just choose whatever sounds good to you and your belly. Don't worry about Neron; I'll deal with him if he gets his panties in a bunch."

I laughed. "Fine, if you insist."

"There's my girl. I'm also insisting on buying your meal tonight."

I lowered my menu and smiled. "I appreciate you wanting to buy me dinner. But I'll pay for our meals."

"Aria, this is my treat. I'm the one who wanted to take you out, so let me be the one to pay for our meals."

"Walter."

He furrowed his brows while pointing his finger repeatedly at me. "Don't Walter me. I'm buying, so I don't want to hear another word about who's paying for dinner."

Walter's serious.

"Okay fine. Dinner is on you," I acquiesced, not wanting to upset him after making his night by being here with him.

"Thank you."

After ordering our meals, Walter reminisced about his wife and mentioned how ecstatic he was to be eating at one of her favorite restaurants again. "This was the very last place we ate at before she succumbed to ovarian cancer," he said, looking saddened as our waitress set our meals down in front of us.

As I ate, I kept thinking about the reasoning behind this dinner date Walter insisted on bringing me on. I twirled the spaghetti with my fork, then took a bite, and without thinking, I spoke with my mouth full, "So, are you going to fill me in about why you wanted to bring me out to dinner?"

He swallowed his food, picked up his napkin, wiped his lips, then laid it back over his lap. "There are a couple of reasons I wanted to take you out," he said, looking up. "First of all, I wanted to inform you that I had a will drawn up when I was still in the nursing home, and I had listed you as the beneficiary."

My stomach fell, and my heart stopped. "Me? Why me?"

"Because you're all that I have left in my life. My wife is no longer here. I have no kids, and all my brothers and sisters have passed on."