Chapter 1: The Arrival

This narrative serves as a sequel to my earlier work titled "He Likes." The most challenging aspect is maintaining patience. Leaning back, I steal glances at my phone, trying to savor my beer without rushing. A game is playing, although I can’t make out which one it is. Upon closer inspection, I realize it's the 2004 World Darts Championship. For the next several minutes, I find myself becoming an avid darts enthusiast.

As I sip my drink, my gaze begins to wander.

Throughout the bar, I notice other couples on dates, and a sense of camaraderie washes over me. A pair of single women stroll by my table, clad in high-waisted jeans and cropped tops, their hair shining perfectly. As they pass, there's an unspoken agreement between us to overlook one another. They take a seat at their table, and I mentally note their location.

Suddenly, my phone lights up: "Parked. Walking in now." I put it away and turn my attention to the entrance as she arrives. I wave her over, and we embrace. She seems smaller than I recalled, which somehow feels like a positive.

"Did your drive go well?" I inquire.

"Yes, sorry for the delay; traffic was heavier than expected."

"No problem at all."

We settle at our table, and I offer to get her a drink.

"I'll have an Angry Orchard," she replies.

The bartender approaches, and we place our order: two chicken quesadillas and an extra side of fries. To pass the time, we grab Connect Four from the game shelf, playing several rounds to ease the tension.

Her conversation is sparse; she mostly asks about my family and interests, and I respond in a steady manner. We engage in a best-of-five series, and I win 3-2, though I have a hunch she might have let me win the last two games after initially leading 2-1.

After we finish our meal, I ask if she'd like another drink. She checks her phone.

"I should probably head home soon," she replies.

I glance at my own glass, which is half empty, and settle the check before we stand to leave.

Outside, a biting February wind greets us. I tighten my jacket, yet the chill still cuts through.

"Where did you park?" I ask.

"Somewhere over there, I think," she gestures toward an alley a few blocks away.

"Alright. I'll walk with you."

She nods and starts heading in that direction. The cold air renders us both silent. When we reach her car, she quickly turns on the heat once we’re inside.

"Thanks for walking me," she says.

"Of course," I reply.

As I look at her, I notice a small smile on her face. I take a moment to listen: the hum of the engine, the wind howling outside, and then I lean in.

Just then, my phone buzzes, breaking the intimate atmosphere. My Uber is two minutes away.

She gazes out her frosted window, then switches on the defroster before turning back to me.

"I had a wonderful time tonight," she says.

"Me too," I respond.

Our eyes meet, and I sense she’s hoping I’ll invite her back to my place, but for some inexplicable reason, I hold back.

We embrace once more, yet the spark between us fades, flickers, and eventually diminishes.

It was never meant to withstand the February winds.

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Chapter 2: Winds of Change

In "February Winds," the narrative captures the essence of fleeting moments and the chill of missed opportunities.

"Erick Baker | February Wind" echoes the themes of longing and connection, enhancing the emotional landscape of this night.