Chapter6-A DATE?
976 Words
The glow from her phone felt too bright in the darkness.
Her chest tightened as she stared at the notification, afraid to open it — afraid it would disappear if she blinked too long.
Finally, she swiped.
“Are you awake?”
Her stomach dropped. She almost laughed — except it wasn’t funny: the thought of Luise Vegan, a man of statue, texting her at this ungodly hour. How could he be here, in her world again, like a ghost knocking at her window?
And then another thought crashed in, sharp and unsettling.
How did he even get my number?
Her fingers hovered over the screen, trembling. Every instinct told her not to answer, not to let him in, not when she had too much to lose. And yet…
“Yes. How did you get my number?”
The reply came quicker than her next breath.
“I asked the booking agent from the ship. "I know it’s crazy, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Her pulse thundered. She didn’t know whether to feel flattered or terrified. Nobody ever chased her — men disappeared when they realized what her life demanded. And yet here he was, blurring lines, knocking down walls she’d spent years building.
“You… what?”
She bit her lip, a bit startled by the answer staring on her screen.
"I didn’t mean to cross a line. If it bothers you, I’ll delete your number right now. But before I do, I would like to make a selfish request."
Her breath snagged.
“Would you let me take you out? Just once. Dinner. Tomorrow.”
She froze. Dinner? The word felt foreign, like something meant for other people — girls with polished nails, light hearts, no bills stacked on the counter. Not her.
Her gaze drifted toward the closed bedroom door where her mother lay coughing in her sleep. To the couch where Jaden’s small shoes were tossed carelessly, to Amaya’s notebook still open on the floor with decimals half-solved. This was her world. Heavy. Relentless. Inescapable.
She typed, then erased. Typed again.
“Luise, my life isn’t built for dates. It’s not simple.”
This time, the pause stretched long enough to make her regret sending it. But finally —
“I don’t want simple. I want real. Even if it’s messy.”
Tears blurred her vision. Nobody had ever said that to her. Not once. She pressed the phone into her chest, shaking, trying to breathe through the storm of feelings rushing in.
Still… fear gnawed at her. What if she let herself want this? What if she stepped into that fragile, dangerous light, only to have it ripped away?
Another buzz.
“Please, just one evening. If you hate it, you’ll never see me again. But if you don’t… maybe you’ll let me stay.”
Her heart clenched. She curled tighter into the couch, torn between the gravity of responsibility and the aching, reckless pull of hope.
She didn’t answer right away. Couldn’t. The clock ticked loud in the silence, every second mocking her indecision.
But as she drifted toward sleep, his words replayed over and over in her head — ‘I don’t want simple. I want real.’
And for the first time in years, Trianna found herself wishing tomorrow would hurry.
The morning light crept into her small apartment, spilling across the living room where she had fallen asleep. Her phone still rested in her hand, the unanswered message burning like a secret against her skin.
By the time Jaden padded in, rubbing his eyes and asking if there were eggs left for breakfast, she’d already made up her mind. Against logic, against fear. Against everything that screamed, she had no business stepping into someone else’s world.
She was going.
Not for him. For herself.
It had been so long since she’d felt like a girl instead of a soldier carrying her family on her back. Maybe just once, she could let herself breathe. Be the lady she always dreamt of.
All morning she went through the motions: cooking, cleaning, filling prescriptions, double-checking the grocery list. Every ordinary task pressed like a reminder that she was gambling precious hours of responsibility. She told herself it was selfish. She told herself she couldn’t afford it.
But still, that evening, after making sure her mother had her medicine and Amaya’s homework was finished, she found herself standing in front of the cracked mirror in her bedroom.
Her hands shook as she held up dresses — though “dresses” were generous. She owned two. One black, a simple thing she wore to funerals and church. One soft blue, bought years ago when she thought dancing might be part of her life.
The blue one felt like a lie. The black one felt like a cage.
In the end, she chose blue. It fit tighter than she remembered, the seams reminding her how much her body had changed under stress and sacrifice. She tugged at the sleeves, heart hammering.
Jaden appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. “Tia… you look so pretty.”
Trianna’s throat tightened. She managed a smile. “Think so?”
Her sister replied, appearing behind Jaden immediately, nodding fiercely. “Like a Disney princess!”
Trianna smoothed her hair back, giggling a bit at their comments. She wanted to believe her. She wanted to believe she could belong to a world where men could ask her to dinner because they saw her, not because they pitied her.
When the knock came — sharp, steady, alive — her whole body jolted in somewhat excitement, she supposed.
For a heartbeat, she considered not answering. Pretending she wasn’t home. Letting the fantasy die at the threshold.
But her feet moved before her mind caught up.
She opened the door.
And froze.
Because the man standing there wasn’t Luise.
- Writer
