I pat the roof of the car as I unlock the doors. “She’s not pretty, but she’s mine.”
Cato shrugs. “If she drives, it’s good enough for me.”
His reply makes a smile tease my lips as I slide in the driver’s seat. “What do you drive?”
“A 2012 Jetta. It’s holding up okay since I don’t drive much working from home.”
“That’s good. Got a house?”
He shakes his head. “Apartment.” He fastens his seatbelt. “I think I might’ve been holding out hope Kyle and I would move in together.” His chuckle has a tinge of bitterness to it. “Oh well.”
I put my hand over his, which is resting on his thigh. Cato’s eyes follow the movement and his cheeks pinken again. “Maybe something better is waiting for you.”
“I have to believe that. If my relationships peaked with Kyle, I’m screwed.”
“Sorry, man. So shitty. It’s hard to get over being cheated on. I know.” I put the car in drive and back out of the space.
“What happened to you?”
“Same old shit. First, he grew distant, then he grew hostile, then he started lying, then I caught him.”
“How?”
“In our bed.” I glance at Cato. “Do you know how much contempt you have to have for someone to fuck another person in the bed you share?” I shake my head. “I don’t even know what I did to make him treat me like that. A mutual friend said he wasn’t doing well at his sales job, and he resented me for not achieving more.”
“Well, that’s shitty.”
“It’s not like he didn’t know I was an artist. In the beginning, he supported me, but at some point it became a reason to fuck me over.”
“Did you love him?”
“I thought I did, but the further I get away from that relationship, the more I realize I didn’t. I think he stood for stability, or something I never had.”
Cato nods. “Anyone major since him?”
“Nah. It’s taken me some time to trust myself again. I let him get away with a lot.”
“Can relate,” Cato says, gazing out the window.
“Enough of that talk. We’re gonna have fun tonight. I’ll show you the San Diego I love.”
He smiles. “That sounds good.”
As we drive, I point things out to Cato, who seems interested. He’s quite a contrast from the man I met throwing fruit and drinks at a cheating cad. His demeanor is much calmer, softer even. I guess it makes sense because he’s a writer. I’m even more intrigued to get to know him now.
“Here we are. They have the most amazing fish tacos.”
“Great.”
I wait outside the car for Cato to join me before we walk in together. I ask for a table on the patio so we can actually see the water. Cato has a wide-eyed expression as he takes everything in.
“What do you think?”
“It’s nice. Is it true San Diego is laid-back?”
“Yeah, mostly. That’s why I like it here. I guess I hoped it would inspire the artist within me to reappear.”
Cato tilts his head. “What happened there?”