The day came faster than I wanted it to.

I’d spent the whole morning pacing my living room, checking my reflection every ten minutes, redoing my lipstick, changing my dress three times, then changing back to the first one. My nerves were a living animal inside me.

I kept telling myself it wasn’t a real date.

It wasn’t real.

It was fake. Temporary. An act.

But my body didn’t care what my brain said.

My hands were shaking.

My phone buzzed.

> I’m outside.

I went to the window.

He ...