AUDREY

I bury my head under the pillow, trying to block out the piercing sunlight. My head pounds like a jackhammer, and the blinding light only makes it worse.

The previous night plays on repeat behind my eyelids, as a wave of nausea flows from my stomach to my throat. Maybe drinking so much wine wasn't the best idea, but I'd needed the liquid courage to get through the evening.

My stomach churns, and a horrible taste lingers in my mouth. I swallow hard, but the foul reminder refuses to budge.

Stumbling toward the bathroom, more memories return. Chris seemed okay at first, but as the night wore on, something didn't feel quite right. His awkward quirks rubbed me the wrong way, and I forced myself to down a glass of wine to relax. But it didn't work.

I stuck it out, though. For Olivia, mostly. Besides, the experience might be good for me and maybe even put an end to her endless nagging about "getting back on the horse."

Chris talked about himself all night long. In fact, by the end of the night, I left feeling as if I had enough material to write his biography, if I had been inclined to. Unfortunately, there was nothing particularly interesting about his life or his past. Most of it filled with stories of his business endeavours.

I can't blame him for being self-centred, though. It's kind of the point of a first date. As if he'd worked long and hard to market all his attributes – forty-four, Taurus, favourite colour green, well-educated with both a bachelor's and master's degree, now sitting at the top of his field. Yet, he didn't ask me a single question, and he didn't pause long enough for me to get a word in either. His arrogance was haughty, like a lion staring down its prey. Sitting there with his rigid posture and smirk, clearly thinking he was superior.

Now and then, he would glance at me, almost challenging me to speak. I didn't bother. It was obvious his interest was solely in himself.

Chris painted himself as the authority on everything, pointing out his successes and wealth from various investments. His dating disasters was the one topic that caught my interest. And while he portrayed himself as the victim in each scene, the metallic taste of blood lingered in my mouth as I bit hard on my tongue. I can imagine the comments women with less self-control might say. Perhaps something equally snide as his glare? Either way, there's no secret to his singleness – he's simply an asshole.

The more he talked, the more I drank. I'm regretting it now. In hindsight, I should've just ordered an Uber and escaped. Live and learn, I guess.

Cringing at the memory, I drag myself into the kitchen. Coffee is my saviour today, and I down a couple of ibuprofen to help. At the table, I sip while scrolling through the latest news articles on my phone. Olivia's message pops up.

"How'd last night go?"

"Great," I reply, adding an eye-roll emoji. There's too much to tell in a single text. I'll fill her in next time we meet. Just as I hit send, my phone buzzes again.

It's a message from Chris.

"Hey, I had a good time last night. Would love to do it again."

I grimace and push the phone away, leaving his message on read. With the last glorious mouthful of coffee down, I head upstairs. Maybe a shower will cure this hangover.

Tilting my head backwards, the hot water melts against my scalp before running down my face and over my body. This whole dating situation is more exhausting than I remember. When Olivia set up my profile, I agreed to three dates over the coming week. Chris was the first. If the other two are as bad as this one, I might need to rethink my approach. Like if I commit a crime deserving of severe punishment.

Tomorrow night's date is with Michael. At least he's chosen a movie for us, so if it doesn't go well, I'll have something to keep my interest. Then on Saturday, I have a hiking date planned with Max.

But the man I am truly interested in, I haven't heard from at all. Jake had seemed interested before, but now it's as if he's avoiding me altogether. What did I say or do to lose his interest so quickly? Maybe he's looking for someone younger, or perhaps single mothers aren't his thing. Or is it my appearance? The little crinkles at the corner of my eyes, or my pouchy belly, or the greys I try to hide? There's nothing I can do about any of that.

I let out a deep sigh, picking up my lipstick and glancing in the mirror. Watching my taught lips, careful not to stray outside the lines. An icy breeze interrupts me. A quick glance, it's nothing. Uncertain still, I turn, taking in the room. Everything is in its right place. I shake it off, returning to the mirror to finish my makeup. It's probably just the remnants of the hangover playing with my mind.

Aislinn and I go through our day as usual. Her at school while I head to work at the bookstore. It's relatively quiet these days, since most people buy eBooks online. Nevertheless, I busy myself updating displays and shuffling items back in their rightful place, before another day closes and I head home.

It doesn't take long to get ready for tonight's date. Wearing a casual dress and natural looking makeup, I brush my hair, leaving its length against my shoulders. I talk to Ais about her day, order her favourite pizza, then head to the cinema.

The rain has turned the parking lot into a small river. I open my umbrella and make a dash for the cinema, relieved to be in ballet flats instead of heels. Reaching the doors, I spot Michael, equally soaked.

Eager for the movie – a romcom with my favourite actors, I shove handfuls of popcorn into my mouth as we watch previews and then the beginning of the movie. Michael is a gentleman the whole time, keeping his hands to himself. Except for when he offers me his Peanut M&M's. Which I accept, of course. But the meet cute of the movie makes me think of Jake. Subconsciously, I divert my emotions, shovelling more snacks into my mouth. But there's something about the guy on the screen that reminds me of him, keeping him in the forefront of my mind. I can't stop overthinking what I did wrong or if he's found someone else.

Pinching my leg, I try to focus on my date beside me.

After the movie, we grab a drink at a nearby bar. I haven't been here before, or to any bar in the past twenty years, so I follow closely behind. It's dimly lit, and smells of musky sweat and beer. We squeeze past other patrons to a table in the corner. The few women that are here are also sitting inside booths like us.

Conversation flows easily between us. Michael shares his ambition to become a professional musician, while I reveal my dream of restoring an old house and maybe writing a novel someday. I wouldn't say it's love at first sight, or anything like that. But it is far better than my previous dating endeavour.

Michael's soft hand grazes my knee, gentle yet deliberate. It's unexpected, sending the butterflies in my stomach racing. My pulse quickens at the attention. Beside me, the phone vibrates against the wooden tabletop, interrupting the moment. I smile apologetically picking it up. It's a text from a number I don't recognise.

"Hey Audrey, Sorry I haven't messaged. I'm heading to the city for work this week. Do you want to meet up? Jake."

My heart practically skips a beat, grinning broadly, staring down at the screen. Finally, after days of silence, he contacts me. But he couldn't have chosen a worse moment. The urge to reply right away, accepting his gesture to meet up, is almost overwhelming. Although, it's disrespectful to do that while I'm on a date with another man, isn't it? My moral compass points me towards Michael.

I glance over at him. It seems he's noticed the message, now watching me expectantly. Swallowing hard, I place the phone back on the table, face down. Jake waited this long to contact me; he can wait a little longer for my response.

"Just a friend," I say, lightly. But I know full well that's not true. It wouldn't be right to confess my feelings for Jake to him, though. "He's coming into town and wants to meet up."

Michael furrows his brows, rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his chin. "Do you want to go?" he asks. I'm not sure if he's asking if I want to end the date or if he's talking about meeting Jake. All I know is that I don't want to ruin a perfectly good night.

I shake my head and smile, holding his gaze. "No. I'm having a lovely time here, with you."

Reaching across the table, he wraps his large hand around my own. His brows ease back into a straight line, and a grin forms at the corner of his mouth. My worries ease at his touch.

After drinks, we stroll around the city now that the rain has stopped. Although, puddles of water dot the areas where the street and sidewalks dip and bend. We end up at a park lit by lanterns hanging from the trees. The scene is serene, calming in the face of the city's various sounds that never seem to fade. It's like something you'd see in a movie.

As the night winds down, Michael accompanies me back to the car park. I open the car door ready to say our goodbyes, but something holds me back. Turning from the car, I face Michael. His hand rests on the door frame, expectantly. He holds my stare while I thank him for the evening, before leaning in for a brief hug. But as we pull apart, his expression changes – hopeful, maybe. For a moment, I'm unsure, but then I realise this is the moment when something could happen. His eyes fall to my lips, and he clears his throat, as if he's about to do or say something. But I'm not ready for that. Not with Michael. Not tonight.

My pulse races erratically as panic sets in, and I abruptly jump into my car. I mutter a quick "Goodnight" as I shut the door behind me. Pulling out of the parking lot, I watch him in the rear-view mirror. He just stands there, probably confused by my quick departure.

The long drive home leaves too much time for me to overthink, and I replay the evening with Michael over and over again, analysing every little detail of the night. He seemed quite nice, kind even, but still, something just didn't click. Maybe I'm just not ready, or maybe I'm holding out hope for something else – or someone else.

By the time I pull into my driveway, I've decided what I'll do. I'm going to reply to Jake, but I'm not diving headfirst into anything. No expectations, no plans. Just one step at a time. I owe myself that much.

Tomorrow is another day, another chance to figure out what I really want. But tonight, I'm exhausted and ready to sleep.

Two dates down, only one more to go.