I went on a date with a guy from the gym, and everything felt perfect—until he suddenly couldn’t find his phone. I called it, and the waitress appeared, claiming she found it in the restroom. Later, while he was paying, she came to show me something on the screen that made my stomach drop.
His name was Dorian, and we’d been flirting over at the squat rack for a few weeks before he finally asked me out. He had this easy smile, the kind of confidence that made you feel safe. We went to this cozy little Italian place downtown, the kind where the lights are soft and the bread is warm enough to steam when you break it open.
The date was going so well I almost forgot we barely knew each other. We talked about travel, bad gym playlists, and our favorite cheat meals. Halfway through the pasta, he reached for his phone to show me a picture from his trip to Bali—then froze.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
