The following few months were a whirlwind. I called my mom after Robert and I left the beach and went somewhere warm, and she screamed when I told her. The screaming was quickly followed by giddy laughter. Our friends were extremely happy for the two of us, having known from the Halloween interaction we had that we would end up together.
By the time, we had pulled apart, his arm was around my waist, and we had basically become one person. He pulled back slowly, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. My eyes remained closed for a few more seconds, before slowly re-opening.
“Me too,” I said rather matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with you, because most guys never take that news well. So, we’re on the same page with that subject.”
I met Robert on Halloween in 2015. I was dressed head-to-toe in early twentieth century clothing as a vampire who could not bring herself to dress in modern fashion. I was particularly proud of myself because I had managed to spend less than five hundred dollars on the costume, which I could use for multiple purposes outside of Halloween. I was also the most fancily dressed at the Halloween party — that was, until Robert walked in the room.