When the waiter left, Henry could barely contain his laugh when she asked if the filet minions were rare in the sense that they were the last two available on the planet. "It's just a cow...so not really endangered at all." But at the price he was paying for these steaks, they might as well be. They were priced as if they were genetically grown in a lab.
She continued asking him questions about the meal and he slowly took a sip of the water already placed on the table. "A baked potato loaded means it's stuff with bacon, cheese, sour cream, chives, and butter. It's really good. Potatoes can be cooked a lot of ways, but this one is by far my favorite!" He smiled at her. He could talk about cooking potatoes all night. If Sterling were around, he could probably cook up some potatoes that would win first prize at any cooking contest. Sterling was the best cook. Unfortunately...ever since their little accident, he'd had very little motivation to do anything. It saddened Henry to know that he was the cause of his boyfriend's depression.
She made a comment about her not being a horse or a goat and he chuckled. "You may not be, but your human body is an omnivore...meaning it eats both meats and plants. But it's not so bad when you try it. Put a lot of the dressing on it and you won't taste the roughage." He didn't like to eat straight plants either. Perhaps she might like a salad when it was mixed with chest, tomatoes, croutons, olives, onions, and topped with dressing. He sure did.
After talking about what all he had ordered for them, she immediately asked about Sterling. He sighed softly. "Yeah...I have. I hurt him pretty bad." His mind immediately wandered to the scars that littered his body. He wished he could erase the memory of that night, to make things so it had never happened. But that wasn't possible and he had to find a way to make things work. "He says he forgives me...but I can't even forgive myself." Henry held a lot of guilt about that night and what he had done. Henry wasn't sure he would ever be able to forgive himself.
The waitress came back with the bottle of wine, pouring them each a glass. He took a rather large sip, probably larger than he really should have taken. "How's life with your new pack?" Henry wasn't sure that was the best table conversation either. In fact, he probably shouldn't be anywhere near Malia. However, he wasn't going to drop a friend just because their packs hated each other. Henry didn't choose his pack but he could choose his friends.