Folding For You

Chapter 9: Sabrina

The call I'd been waiting for finally came, and now I found myself walking into Manhatta, a stunning restaurant perched on the 60th floor, nerves and excitement swirling in my chest.

I wore a black halterneck dress with a sweetheart neckline, the side drape swaying gently as I moved. Gayle had to practically drag herself out of work earlier to help me get ready. It felt like everything was leading to this moment—my first date with Killian.

As the maître d' led me to the table, Killian was there. Already standing, he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. My heart skipped a beat. He reached for my hand and kissed it, his voice smooth. "Dimples."

I smiled softly. "Killian."

The waiter arrived to take our orders. I wasn't picky tonight; anticipating being here with him made me feel bold. Killian, as always, took charge. "Meat or seafood?" he asked with a smile.

After a moment of thought, I answered, "Seafood."

"Splendid," he said, still grinning, mentioning how he'd just had steak. His eyes flickered to the menu again. "Ah, but they've got duck..."

I couldn't help but laugh softly. "Just pick whatever you want."

In the end, he ordered foie gras and duck pie for himself and tilefish for me. When it came to drinks, I chose a gin and tonic, while Killian asked if they had Sauternes. The waiter offered Pinot Grigio instead, and Killian accepted with a simple, "That's fine."

Once the waiter left, he reached across the table and took my hand again. His voice was low, almost tender. "I've missed you."

I pulled my hand away gently, trying to steady my breath. "Wait, Killian... before we go any further... why didn't you tell me you're a Kincaid?"

His expression sharpened instantly. "Does it matter?"

I felt a heavy weight on my chest, the anxiety I'd been pushing down rising. "Killian, I'm not on the same playing field as you. I don't come from money, and my family—"

He cut me off, looking more offended than I expected. "So, what, you're finding reasons not to date me?"

His arms crossed tightly as if trying to hold back his frustration. The air between us shifted, and I felt like I was walking on glass, every word a potential crack.

I swallowed hard, trying to explain, but I could see his patience wearing thin. He threw his napkin on the table with a suddenness that startled me.

"Look, this is clearly a waste of time," he said coldly, standing up from the table.

"Killian, wait!" I called after him, panic gripping my throat, but he was already gone.

I sat there, stunned, the weight of my words sinking in as I watched the empty space where he'd been just moments ago. Tears pricked at my eyes.

I waved down the waiter, my voice trembling as I asked to cancel the order. He reassured me it was taken care of, but the words barely registered.

I walked out of the restaurant into the night, tears streaming freely down my cheeks. I couldn't believe what I'd just done. The doubts, the fear—they had all come rushing out at the worst possible moment, sabotaging what could've been a perfect night.

I slid into a taxi, my mind racing. I needed to fix this. Pulling out my phone, I dialled Killian's number. Voicemail. Again and again. Voicemail.

I felt wholly wrecked inside. Why did I let my insecurities ruin everything? I wanted him more than anything. And now, I'd pushed him away.