"Mabel, you don't have a date this Valentine's, right?" I asked Mabel. I finally filed my resignation last week and today is my last day and Mabel is helping me with my things. "That's like in two days."

"Yes and you don't have a date as well, Cy," Mabel chuckled. "We're now even and we can have a little gal date this Friday."

"Actually, Mabel, I have a date for this Valentine's," I answered, grinning, which elicited a confused look from my best friend. "And so do you."

"What do you mean?"

"I set you up on a date," I proudly declare. Donny and I thought that we should start the blind date on Valentine's Day and end on Valentine's Day next year. "This Friday, sketch the gallery at 7 PM."

"Hold on. A blind date?" She laughed as she placed my notebooks in my box. "I thought you stopped setting me up on blind dates for a year now and you just can't help it, huh?"

I laugh as my response and remember I've been nonstop setting her up on a date last year because she's been complaining about how single she is despite the fact that she's beautiful but I stopped since I have this one particular man I want her to go on a date with, but I just can't get him on board until now.

"Do I know the guy?" Mabel asked.

"Yes."

"Who is it then?"

"If I tell you, then it wouldn't be a blind date," I respond, cheekily grinning at my best friend as I close the box—my last box. "Don't worry; he's a good man."

"Please don't tell me it's one of our workmates," she groans and places her hand on my shoulder. "I love you, Cy, but I just can't go on another date with one of our workmates, even if they're not from our department."

"I promise, it's not one of our workmates," I say. A year ago, I set her up with one of the marketing departments, specifically the marketing manager and the date did go well but on their fourth date, they decided they weren't that compatible and both of them, up until now, had awkwardness in the air. "So, are you in?"

She took a deep breath and smiled before answering, "Yes, I'm in; besides, I miss going on a date, especially a blind date, the thrill and all that."

Mabel helped me carry my boxes—we got one box each—and I felt a lump in my throat that I was able to breathe properly; the tears started to pool in my eyes but I bit my lower lip to stop them from streaming down. I never thought I would be emotional leaving my workplace. I have loved being an accountant. I've loved this place even if I have only been here for a year; I met great people and had an amazing experience that I'll surely treasure.

Every great journey has an end and this is where my journey as an accountant ends as I begin another journey in having my own clothing line.

"You'll do great in your clothing line, Cy," Mabel assured me as she flashed a comforting smile and we walked out from the office and onto the elevator and as soon as it closed, I knew there was no turning back from my decision and that this is real; I quit my job.

"Thank you, Mabel."

"I got you a date." I flash a big smile as soon as Donny opens his door. I'm outside his apartment and he looks like he just woke up from a nap—his hair is disheveled, and his white T-shirt is a bit wrinkled, and pairing it with grey sweatpants, he rubbed his one eye that somehow flexed his muscle. "Tomorrow, for Valentine's Day, I hope you found me a date and you better have decent clothes for your date."

"I got you a date," Donny replied, yawning. I entered his apartment, which elicited a chuckle from him. "Right, you can come in, Cyrielle." His voice is raspy and he closed the door. "You want water or anything?"

"I don't need anything, thanks," I respond. My eyes roam around his apartment, though it's not my first time in here. I notice on his center table a vase with plastic flowers that I gave to him last Christmas. I gave it to him because his table looks dull; his apartment barely had any decorations. "Aw, I didn't think you would keep my gift last Christmas."

"You said that if I don't keep your gift, you'll kick my ass," he laughed as he sat on the sofa, patting beside him and gesturing for me to sit next to him. "I'm not scared of getting my ass kicked by you but you're short so you'll be having a hard time kicking my ass. I basically did you a favor; you're welcome."

I playfully hit his arm when I sat down on his couch beside him; he laughed and wrapped his arms around my shoulder. "Who's my date?" He whispers in my ear, and I admit it tickles as his breathe ghosted against my skin. "Don't worry about me; I have something to wear for my date tomorrow and it's decent, I promise."

"I can't tell you who but she's pretty," I respond, peering at him. "Are you sure it's decent for a date? I can take you shopping."

"It's decent," he responds, taking his arm off me. "I can show you if you want."

"Okay, show me," I tell him and I wait on the couch as he goes to get his clothes for tomorrow.

My gaze peered on the side, two tables on each side—on the left table, I saw a picture of him together with his family and they all looked happy with genuine smiles plastered on their faces that I wondered when was the last we had ours, or did we ever have one? Next to the picture frame was with his two friends—Vesper and Aurelia, both of whom are great people and I've met them personally.

On the right table, I saw our picture together; we're sitting at the foam we place in the wood that connects our room. It's a selfie of us two with two paints across our cheeks—maroon and gold paint gripping a balloon. It was for our intramurals at our university and we decided to remember the day by ending with a picture in our home.

Next to the picture frame is a Lego set of 'up house' that we built when we graduated high school. I can't believe he kept it after all these years. I remember that we built this in his room and I insisted that he should keep it to have some decoration in his room, giving it a light and cozy vibe.

"I can't believe you kept this," I say as soon as Donny sits next to me with his clothes for tomorrow.

"It's always been there, Cy," he replied. "You've been in my apartment many times."

"Honestly, I just thought you'd place it when I'm coming over," I admitted. "But this time I didn't tell you I'm coming and I'm amused how it's still here."

"I always keep everything you gave me, Cy," Donny stated. "It may not look like I'm a sentimental person but I am, especially when it comes from you."

"That's sweet of you, Donny." It fluttered my heart to know that after all these years of knowing him, he kept all the gifts I've given him. He held my gifts like a precious treasure, storing them like gold that can't be replaced by any replica.

"I just don't want my ass kicked by a 5'4 woman," he teases and I playfully hit his arm. He chuckles, and the sound of it vibrates the area, and it's comforting to hear him laugh; it can indeed light up the whole world.

"Oh, shut it." I playfully rolled my eyes at him and examined the clothes he bought—a dark blue Ralph Lauren polo and white pants. "This will look good on you."

"I know," he smirked.

"Who's my date, Donny?" I inquired. "And where is he taking me? I have to make sure I have a perfect outfit for my date, the first date after six years of my relationship."

It hit me; I was anxious for the date. I didn't know how to dress or act on the first date with Zachary. All the six years I had with him, we might go on a date but it always ended up either great or worse; I barely remember our first date.

"I can't tell you," he mimicked me with a smile. "But he's a great guy. A dress would be fine, Cy, and he's taking you to Highbury's Trullo; he'll see you at seven pm."

I hand-soothe my black dress, as the splintered nerves dug further into my lithe body. The whisper of night shred into my chest as the pillar of scenarios tonight whirled in my head, my reflection in the mirror in the dim light of the restaurant's bathroom as the weight of my unsteady heartbeat tumbles down each step I'm closer to opening the door.

Twisting the doorknob open, I exited the bathroom and scanned the room in search of my blind date. Every time I set Mabel on a blind date, I send her a alias to her date with a name tag to be easily identified and that's what Donny and I are doing now.

I gave Donny an alias of Avery A and Mabel a Kier J—it stands for Mabel Avery Acosta and Donota Kier Jimenez. Donny gave me an alias of Jonathan I; we had a piece of paper with our alias and my alias is Wyn Z—Cyrielle Wyn Zamora.

In the midst of the overflowing couples celebrating Valentine's Day, a man with black hair and porcelain skin, a well-defined jawline and body, wearing a black long-sleeve polo with the sleeve rolling through his arm and two buttons remaining unbuttoned, caught my attention sitting alone in the center.

I went up to him and said, "Jonathan I?" His brown eyes peered at me. "I'm Wyn Z; um, Donny set us up." I gave him a friendly smile and his eyes relaxed as he stood up, towering over my height—he's at least six feet tall.

"Jonathan Ibanez," he introduced himself, his voice a bit husky and extended his right hand. "Nice to meet you, Wyn Z."

"You can call me Cyrielle," I tell him and shake his hand, and his lips curve, revealing a dimple.

"Have a seat," Jonathan insists as he helps me into my seat, and we begin to order and our night begins.