Chapter 4: Dinner With the Devil You Love

So, after almost two years of knowing each other and more than a year of dating, Kayla and I finally met in real life.

I was so nervous I could barely eat breakfast that morning. I changed my shirt three times, checked my breath, and counted the bags over and over. My hands shook as I drove to the restaurant, my heart pounding in my ears.

I got to the restaurant early, killing time on my phone while I waited for Kayla.

I kept checking the entrance every few seconds, half-expecting her to bail. The place was crowded, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses doing nothing to calm my nerves. I scrolled through our old messages, wondering if she’d recognize me right away.

We’d agreed to meet at ten. She showed up early, at 9:40, and spotted me right away.

She was even prettier in person—long dark hair, bright eyes, a confidence that didn’t quite match the nerves in her smile. She moved quickly, her heels tapping on the tile floor.

She picked up each of the designer bags on the table and hugged them close, her face lit up with surprise.

She looked like a kid on Christmas morning, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. For a second, all the doubts I had melted away.

"You’re so good to me! My mom always said a guy willing to spend money on a woman must really love her, so I asked for bags to test you. Guess you really mean it!"

She grinned, spinning one of the bags by its strap. "Honestly, I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Guess you passed the test, huh?"

"How did I get so lucky to meet someone as good to me as you?"

She batted her lashes, her voice softening, and I felt my heart twist. I wanted to believe her, even as a little voice in my head told me to be careful.

I pressed my lips together and smiled, not answering. I was afraid that once she knew the truth, she’d never call it luck again.

I stared down at my hands, trying to keep my face neutral. The words I wanted to say stuck in my throat, too heavy to let out.

Through dinner, it was only thanks to Kayla’s nonstop chatter that things didn’t get too awkward.

She told stories about her job, her customers, her dreams of traveling. She laughed at her own jokes, nudged me when I got quiet, and filled every silence with a story or a question. I was grateful for it—she made things easy, even when I felt like I was drowning.

I’ve always been shy, not great at talking to girls, and even less at being close to them.

My friends used to tease me about it, say I was hopeless. I’d always been the quiet one, the guy who hung back at parties, who’d rather listen than talk. With Kayla, I wanted to be different, but I didn’t know how.

Kayla sat right next to me, her leg brushing against mine, her lips grazing my cheek, turning me beet red.

She leaned in close, her perfume sweet and dizzying. My ears burned, and I fumbled with my napkin, too flustered to say anything. She just laughed, teasing me about being so shy.

After dinner, I stared at her for a long time, still unable to make up my mind.

She looked so happy, so alive. I wondered if I was making the biggest mistake of my life. I wanted to protect her, but I couldn’t forget why I’d brought her here in the first place.

"Where do you live? I’ll drive you home."

I tried to play it cool, but my voice cracked. I hoped she didn’t notice.

Kayla shook her head and grabbed my hand.

She squeezed it tight, her eyes shining. "Don’t go yet," she whispered, almost pleading.

"I want to spend more time with you. Let’s go sing karaoke!"

She grinned, already pulling me toward the door. Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself smiling despite everything.

I wanted to say no, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

She tugged on my arm, pouting. "Come on, it’ll be fun! Just one night."

"It’s our first time meeting in person. Shouldn’t we hang out a little longer—really get to know each other?"

Her words made sense, but I still felt uneasy. I glanced at the time, thinking about my mom’s texts, about Emily waiting at home.