Betty's POV. 

The next morning arrived too quickly and not quickly enough. 

I dressed with trembling hands, second-guessing every choice. 

This shirt? No, too casual. These jeans? Maybe the other pair. 

My reflection stared back at me, equal parts excited and terrified.

When I arrived at Brownhills café, my breath caught. 

Damien was already there, leaning against the brick exterior, dressed in a way that made my heart skip. 

Dark slacks, a crisp button-down that somehow made ...