Let Love In
Lacey Chronicles
“Dress nice, but not black tie,” Lacey reminded herself as she stood in front of the mirror.
Syler’s words replayed in her head for what seemed like hours. This was the third and final outfit combination. At last, it felt right. She styled her hair in loose curls, slipped into a green flowy blouse, and paired it with gray jeans.
“Perfect,” she concluded about her garb. Lacey hadn’t been on a date since she and Brooke broke up. This was exciting but also new and terrifying.
She appeared more nervous because she didn’t know what to expect on their first official outing. They’d only been casual for a month, so she wasn’t well-versed in what he might do for a plan. She was going on blind faith for a good time, no matter what he decided. He agreed to pick her up at her condo so the location remained a surprise. It was a night of firsts – a serious date and his seeing where she lived. Lacey wondered if this was a positive sign for things to come.
When the buzzer in her living room rang out, her heart raced, knowing it was Syler. She moved across the floor to hit the button to speak. “I’ll be right down,” she said into the speaker. Grabbing her purse off the table next to the door, she left her space to meet him downstairs.
Anxiety balled up in her chest on the elevator ride down to the lobby. The prospect of anything serious felt scary, and Lacey hated the possibility of things not working out. She wasn’t sure she could handle another breakup. But Lacey dismissed her feelings about tonight; she wouldn’t know the outcome without trying first.
As soon as Syler came into view, she brightened. The tall brunette wore a black button-down shirt and dark blue jeans. The clean, yet casual look was a relief.
“You look nice, as we agreed,” she joked, kissing his cheek. Syler’s cheeks flushed.
“So do you,” he nodded, taking her hand to twirl her around for a full view of the ensemble. Lacey laughed at how corny the gesture appeared, but obliged him anyway.
“Shall we?” he asked, and once Lacey agreed, he hailed a cab to their undisclosed destination.
They shared a comfortable silence as they peered out the windows at the busy evening. Summer’s end was close, so more people went out on weeknights. The taxi ride was luxurious compared to the subway or walking.
When the yellow car stopped in front of their destination, Lacey’s breath caught. It was Bocce’s – June and her favorite restaurant. A small, family-owned Italian eatery that they often frequented before she passed away.
“Here we are,” Syler announced as he paid the driver.
Lacey lingered on the sidewalk, staring at the familiar entrance. “How did you—”
“I listened when you spoke,” he said. For the first time, he wasn’t smug. He had a certain softness, almost as if he grasped the significance of his recollections. “You mentioned coming here with your sister. I figured you might enjoy it.”
Her throat tightened as memories of her beloved sibling rushed back. June’s boisterous laugh echoed in her mind as soon as they entered. After the hostess took them to their table, Lacey recalled how often she and June had frequented this restaurant. Lacey swallowed hard. Syler saw and listened to her in subtle ways. It was a beautiful start to the night.
Inside, the restaurant remained unchanged. The same amber light pooled across polished wooden tables. A faint scent of garlic and wine hung in the air, reminding her of every visit with June. Lacey pressed her palms to her lap, steadying herself.
“You okay?” Syler asked. His dark eyes searched hers, not pressing.
She forced a lighter expression. “Yeah. I’m… surprised.”
The server took their drink orders. For a moment, Lacey let her gaze drift over the room. Memories stirred with every detail she soaked in. This place served as a needed oasis after long summer days, when the weight of the city was too heavy.
“I hope you’re not upset,” Syler said. “If this is too much—”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I’m not.”
“Shocked, maybe,” she confessed. “No one’s ever remembered a specific detail like this before; it means a lot.”
He leaned back, relief softening his shoulders. “Your stories matter.”
The words lingered between them, quiet but undeniable. Lacey felt a warmth stir in her chest, something she had locked away. Was it possible to be attracted to someone for such a simple reason? Syler called out to the pieces of her heart that she deemed invisible. Keeping him at arm’s length was becoming a challenge.
Dinner unfolded as the couple shared small plates. Syler let Lacey choose – he loved it when she told the anecdote of June as she ordered the bruschetta. The conversation flowed with ease – moments of laughter mingled with silence as they ate. Lacey observed Syler’s attentiveness. His genuine enthusiasm for what she had to say was a welcome change.
As dinner wound down, Syler smiled. “See what happens when you trust me,” he teased.
Lacey rolled her eyes, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she replied with a laugh. Her cheeky behavior was still somewhat present. She cherished their playful conversation and his arrangements for their time together.
When they returned to the Tribeca neighborhood, Syler gripped Lacey’s hand without hesitation. His fingers slid against hers with a perceived warmth. Lacey hesitated only a moment before lacing her fingers with his.
The city buzzed all around them. Hope replaced the grief of mere survival. When Syler squeezed her hand, she thought perhaps she could picture herself falling for him.
Editor: Lucy Cafiero
