Every Girl Wants A Moon

Chapter 11: The Dinner and the Aftermath

The restaurant was quiet, the kind of place that felt intimate without trying too hard. Soft lighting and rich, warm colors created an inviting atmosphere. Chase and I sat in a cozy corner, away from the commotion of the dining area, a small table just for the two of us. As I looked around, the ambiance seemed to settle around me, cocooning us in our little bubble.

Chase was relaxed, his gaze never straying from me as we spoke, and I couldn't help but smile. This felt... easy. I wasn't used to this—being in a restaurant like this, with someone like him—but it was so effortless. We talked about everything and nothing at the same time. There were no awkward silences, no hesitations. Just the sound of our voices blending into the soft background hum of other patrons.

"You okay?" Chase asked, his voice low and warm, his hand reaching across the table to briefly brush against mine.

I gave a small nod, though there was a knot in my stomach I hadn't expected. "Yeah, I'm fine."

But beneath my words, something gnawed at me. I wasn't quite sure what it was—maybe it was the way others seemed to look at us. Maybe it was the sense that I didn't belong here, not in this world, not with him. It was a quiet, insistent feeling, but it was there all the same.

"I'll be right back," I murmured, excusing myself to the bathroom. I needed a moment alone to gather my thoughts.

I pushed through the door of the bathroom and leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath. It was hard to shake the feeling that I didn't belong, that maybe this—whatever this was between Chase and me—was too good to be true. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm the swirl of thoughts in my mind. When I felt steady enough, I left the bathroom, hoping the brief reprieve had given me some clarity.

As I rounded the corner back into the dining room, I stopped in my tracks.

There, sitting across from Chase, was a woman. She was dressed in a tight black dress that clung to her curves, her hair styled perfectly, her smile sharp and practiced. She was leaning in, her hand on Chase's arm, fingers lightly brushing against his skin as she laughed at something he had said.

I froze, my heart sinking.

Chase hadn't noticed me yet, his attention fully focused on the woman sitting in front of him. I stood still for a moment, watching them, my stomach turning. The woman's fingers lingered on his arm, and she flashed him a flirtatious smile.

I swallowed, my breath suddenly shallow. The last thing I wanted was to interrupt, to make a scene. I knew it was ridiculous—he was just being polite, I told myself. But it didn't stop the pang of insecurity that tightened my chest.

Without thinking, I turned quickly, heading back toward the bathroom, hoping I could escape the feeling of jealousy and discomfort that was starting to creep up on me. I wasn't prepared for this. I wasn't prepared for the feeling of being left out, of seeing someone else making moves on him while I stood there like a third wheel.

But as I rushed to the bathroom, I didn't notice the man until he was already too close.

"Hey there," a voice slurred, and I froze.

I looked up to find a man, his eyes glazed with the obvious haze of too much alcohol. He swayed slightly, a half-empty glass of wine dangling loosely in his hand. "You look like you could use some company," he said, his words thick and heavy.

I recoiled instinctively, stepping back, my body tense. "I'm fine," I said, my voice slightly shaky as I forced myself to keep calm. "I just need to get back to my table."

The man didn't move. Instead, he stepped closer, his body blocking the way to the bathroom. "Come on, don't be shy," he said with a lecherous grin. "I'm sure you'll enjoy it."