You look amazing," Elijah says as I step out of my apartment, my cheeks blushing under the soft glow of the porch light.
"Thanks, I just didn't know what to wear," I reply, playing with the hem of my dress, feeling a little awkward.
It is our third date, and I haven't felt this nervous in a long time.
Elijah takes my hand, leading me to his car with a gentle smile. The evening is cool, with a hint of fall in the air, and the street is quiet except for the rustling of leaves.
I try to push Selene from my thoughts, but her face keeps popping up like an unwelcome pop-up ad.
Elijah and Selene have been friends for years, and I don't know what Elijah is going to say if he found out what Selene did.
As we drive to the restaurant, my mind wanders to our shared past—the tears, the long nights of hopes and fears.
I wonder if Selene ever missed me, or if she was too busy with her new life to care.
It is a thought that gnaws at me, like a pebble in my shoe, but I don't dare bring it up with Elijah. Not yet.
The restaurant is a cozy Italian place, dimly lit with the smell of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air.
As we sit down, Elijah's eyes sparkle with excitement, making me feel guilty for my wandering thoughts.
He has clearly put effort into choosing a place that would be perfect for us, but I couldn't help feeling like an imposter.
I like Elijah, sure, but it is a different kind of affection than what I felt with Selene—clearly not affection but something else.
We order our food and chat about our days, the conversation flowing easily despite the underlying tension.
I listen intently, nodding and smiling in all the right places, but my heart isn't fully in it.
I can't shake the feeling that Selene won't like me being here with her friend.
Yet, every time Elijah touches my hand or leans in closer to share a joke, I feel a small spark of something more.
The meal is delicious, and the wine helps to loosen my nerves.
As we share a plate of cannoli for dessert, I feel a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the café's ambiance.
Looking into Elijah's eyes, I realize that maybe, just maybe, I can find happiness with him.
But as we step outside and the cool air hits my face, reality comes rushing back.
What would Selene think? Would she be angry? I take a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside.
Tonight is about me and Elijah, and I'm determined to enjoy it.
As we stroll through the park under the moonlit sky, Elijah's hand finds mine, and I don't pull away.
The silence between us is comfortable, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to imagine a future where Selene is just a memory, and Elijah is the one holding my hand every night.
But when I look up and see the sadness on his face, I know he is thinking about something.
We both stop walking, our eyes locking in understanding.
"I know this is complicated," Elijah says, his voice low and earnest. "But I really like you, Freya. And I think... I think whatever happened in the past should stay in the past."
I search his eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity, but all I find is hope.
It is a hope I desperately want to cling to, to believe in.
I take a step closer, the space between us evaporating, and whisper, "Okay. Let's give this a chance."
Our first kiss is tentative, like two people tiptoeing around a sleeping giant.
But as we linger there, the giant stirs, and I feel a rush of excitement and fear.
We have crossed a line, and there is no going back.
Elijah pulls away first, his eyes searching mine for reassurance.
I give him a small smile, trying to convince myself that I am not leading him on.
"Let's just take it slow," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
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YOU ARE READING
THE PSYCHOPATH
RomanceI walk closer, grab her arm tightly, and lead her to my room. "What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go!" she says, trying to push me. I throw her on the bed forcefully, and she sits up, running to the door. I push her away and lock the door. I wr...
