Secrets Never Die

Prepping for the Date

Alyssa

Alyssa woke early, she had barely slept. The anticipation was building, her date with Cole was only eight hours away. She could not figure out why she was so anxious. She had never been this nervous for a date in her life. By 7 a.m., she was already pacing like a caffeinated squirrel, if she had dogs they would be watching her with tilted heads like she had finally gone off the deep end.

She tried to distract herself with a quick breakfast, consisting of string cheese and coffee, a pairing that sounded like a cry for help more than a meal. The nerves wouldn’t let her eat anything else. She scrolled through her messages for the fifth time, checking to make sure Cole hadn’t canceled. He hadn’t. Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t seem like the type to bail. But still, her stomach twisted into an anxious pretzel.

She needed an outfit. She has a romper style outfit popping into her mind. Elegant enough for dinner, yet flexible enough for walking. Rompers, however, were tricky little one-piece wonders: cute, functional, and potential bathroom nightmares. Still, worth the risk. She needed the right one.

A few hours later, Alyssa found herself in the local boutique, which was a maze of colors, textures, and judgmental mannequins. Everything seemed either too frilly, too bold, or too beige. She sifted through the racks like a woman on a mission or possibly a scavenger hunt with extremely high stakes.

She tried on a few duds first: one that looked like a toddler's tea party gone wrong, another that seemed designed for someone with no need for blood flow. A third one that had so many ruffles it looked like a fabric explosion.

Then she saw it. Navy blue, subtle lace trim, strapless. It was incredibly flattering and brought out her curves perfectly.. It whispered, “I’m low maintenance but secretly stunning.” It wasn’t screaming for attention, it was confident in its own subtle charm.

In the dressing room mirror, Alyssa blinked at her reflection, almost surprised. She looked... like she had her life together. Which was hilarious, considering she’d eaten string cheese for breakfast while spiraling about whether this man with the voice of sin and the eyes of mystery actually liked her or, you know, maybe he was a serial killer.

She marched to the register before her anxiety could talk her out of it, she paid for the dress and then headed for home.

A few hours later the clock hit 6:30 p.m. Alyssa stood in front of her full-length mirror, adjusting the navy blue romper for the seventeenth time. Her hair had somehow cooperated, it was truly a miracle. She’d opted for soft waves, letting them fall casually around her shoulders. It made her feel like she wasn’t trying too hard, even though she had absolutely tried way too hard.

Her makeup was light, a soft shimmer on her cheeks, a subtle highlight on her brow, and just enough mascara to make her green eyes stand out. She looked like a woman going on a date for the first time in her life, with a man who made her heart skip for reasons she couldn’t quite put into words.

Walking to the door, she grabbed her white flats. They were walkable and adorable. They carried just enough sass to say I’m not afraid of cardio, but still whispered practical but cute, a balance she rarely achieved.

At 6:45 p.m., the knock made Alyssa nearly jump out of her skin.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Opening the door, she saw him and that familiar pulling sensation started drawing her in. Cole stood there, black jacket in hand, dark jeans hugging his long legs, and a black button-up shirt rolled at the sleeves. His hair was tousled slightly, like he’d been running his hand through it all day. His smile was soft, but his dark eyes lit up when he saw her.

“Wow,” he said, voice low and warm. “You look…”

Alyssa raised an eyebrow. “Like I didn’t change my outfit seven times?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. Like I might forget how to speak.”

Okay, smooth. That was...smooth. She felt her face flush and was suddenly very aware of the butterflies throwing a rave in her stomach.

“You clean up alright yourself,” she said, locking her door behind her.

They walked the short distance to the restaurant. He’d picked a quiet place tucked behind an ivy-covered wall, with flickering lanterns and soft music that made the whole thing feel vaguely magical. The building was old, charming, and warm, with a front door that creaked slightly as it opened. .

As they were seated, Alyssa noticed their table was by a window, away from the other diners. Private, but not weird. Intimate in a way that made her feel special without being spotlighted.

Over dinner, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like they had done this a hundred times before. He asked about her work, her hobbies, and her favorite books. He even made a few sarcastic comments about her coffee addiction, but in a way that made her laugh, not cringe.

He listened, really listened, he never interrupted, never talked over her, and never made her feel like her words were filler between his own. When he did talk about his business, he was vague and avoided specifics. She didn’t press. She had secrets too.

After dinner, they stepped back into the cool night. The streets glistened under the soft streetlights, still damp from the light drizzle earlier.

Cole offered his arm. “Walk off the sugar high?”

Alyssa hesitated just a moment before looping her arm through his. His touch was steady, warm. Not demanding at all.

They strolled through a nearby park, their steps unhurried. The city felt quieter here, the noise muffled beneath the weight of dusk and the gentle hum of summer cicadas.

“I’m really glad you said yes,” Cole said quietly.

Alyssa looked up at him. “I almost didn’t.”

His brow lifted slightly, a question in his eyes. “Why not?”

She shrugged, suddenly shy. “Because I’m not great at this. Dating, letting someone in. I second-guess everything.”

He was quiet for a moment, then smiled. “Good. Keeps things interesting.”

She laughed, the sound surprising herself. It felt easy.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to brace for disappointment.

And that scared her more than anything else.