The day of the date arrived, and my nerves were a tangled mess of excitement and the faint, lingering echo of Bella's warning. But any doubt was completely erased when Natasha finally replied.
Natasha: Sorry for late reply! The presentation was a success! đ And yes, of course I will come. Since I am single, I should try, right? đ What time?
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. She was in. Not only was she in, but she was excited. It was really happening.
I quickly sent her the details, my heart doing a happy little flip. With Natasha by my side, what could possibly go wrong? It was going to be a perfect, fun, flirty double date. I pushed the last shreds of unease aside, choosing to focus on the image of Arron's smile and the promise of a perfect night.
Everything was finally falling into place.
I took a cab to the restaurant, watching the city lights blur past the window. The happiness I felt was almost bitter, like a piece of dark chocolate that's a little too strong. It was sweet on the surface, but underneath, a subtle, unpleasant edge lingered, a reminder of Bella's worried voice and my own initial dread.
But I shook the feeling off. This was my night. I took a deep breath, smoothed down my dress, and stepped out of the cab, ready to meet my fate.
The hostess led me through the dimly lit restaurant, the murmur of conversations and clinking glasses feeling distant, like I was moving through a dream. And then I saw him. Arron was already seated at a secluded booth, looking effortlessly handsome in a crisp button-down. His smile was warm, but it didn't quite reach his eyes the way I remembered.
My steps faltered for a second. There was no one else with him. No friend for Natasha. Just him, alone at a table set for four.
"Mia. You look beautiful," he said, standing up to greet me. He leaned in for a kiss on the cheek, his hand resting possessively on my lower back. The gesture felt less like affection and more like a claim.
"Hi," I managed, my voice a little breathless as I slid into the booth. I glanced at the empty seats. "So⊠where's your friend? For Natasha?"
His smile widened, a flash of something unreadable in his gaze. "All in good time, baby. It's a surprise, remember?"
He signaled a waiter, who immediately brought over a bottle of champagne I knew I hadn't ordered. As Arron poured two glasses, pushing one toward me, the pit in my stomach returned, colder and heavier than before. This didn't feel like a double date anymore. It felt like a performance where I didn't know my lines, and he was the only one holding the script.
Just then, I saw her. Natasha stood at the hostess stand, scanning the room. She looked, as always, breathtaking. She wore a simple black dress that clung to her figure, and her sharp, intelligent eyes cut through the dim light. A wave of relief washed over me. My friend was here. Everything would be okay now.
But the feeling was short-lived.
Arron's gaze followed mine, and when he saw her, his entire posture shifted. The casual charm he'd shown me evaporated, replaced by an intense, almost predatory focus. He stood up so quickly it was jarring.
"Natasha," he said, his voice dripping with a warmth he hadn't used with me. "I'm so glad you could make it."
He completely bypassed me to pull out her chair himself, his attention locked on her. Natasha gave me a small, slightly confused smile as she sat down, her eyes flicking between Arron's intense stare and my frozen expression.
I sat there, my champagne flute untouched, the bubbly liquid now feeling flat and sour. He asked her about her presentation, hanging on her every word, laughing a little too loudly at her jokes. He didn't look at me once.
The truth crashed over me, cold and humiliating. I wasn't the date. I was the delivery girl. I was the third wheel at my own supposed dream date, and the man I thought was my crush had only wanted me as a bridge to get to my beautiful, brilliant friend.
Fine. If that was what he wanted, then fine. But I would keep my dignity. And before I left, I would make sure he was as humiliated as I felt.
I stood up, the motion smooth and deliberate. The chatter at our table died instantly. Arron finally tore his gaze from Natasha to look at me, a question forming on his lips.
He never got to ask it.
In one swift motion, I grabbed my full glass of champagne. The pale gold liquid caught the light for a glorious second before I flung it directly into his face.
The gasp from nearby tables was a sharp, satisfying sound. The wine dripped from his chin, hair, and soaked into the pristine white of his shirt, leaving a sprawling, ugly stain.
The restaurant fell into a stunned hush. Natasha's eyes were wide with shock.
I looked down at Arron, who was sputtering and wiping his eyes, his cool composure utterly shattered.
"There's your date," I said, my voice cold and clear, not a tremor in it. "I believe you two have a lot to talk about."
I didn't look back. I turned and walked out, my head held high, leaving the ruins of his ego and my illusions behind me.
I couldn't lie to them. I couldn't lie to myself.
The second I pushed through the restaurant doors and the cool night air hit my face, the dam broke. A hot, sharp sob tore from my throat, and the tears I'd been holding back finally made their way down my cheeks, blurring the city lights into streaks of gold and misery.
But I didn't even have a moment to fall apart.
Because standing across the street, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, was Noah.
He was in casual clothes, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle ticking from here. His fox tail was held stiff and straight up behind him, a blatant signal of an alpha on high alert, furious, protective, and utterly defeated. He had known. He had known this would happen, and he had come anyway, just to be there when it all fell apart.
Our eyes met across the distance. In his gaze, I didn't see an "I told you so." I saw a pain that mirrored my own, a shared understanding of betrayal, and a silent, fierce promise that he was there. He had been there all along.