Angela
The night her friends tell her not to bother with love and to focus on herself was the same night she downloaded the dating app.
Angela downloaded Tinder on a Tuesday night, the kind that smelt like cold pizza and bad decisions and told herself it was just for entertainment. No expectations. No hope. Just swiping through strangers like a game she didn't plan on winning, even though she is a hopeless romantic lover girl. Then she matched with him.
There were back-and-forth conversations being exchanged;
It seemed obvious that Nick was more into Angela than she was. By the end of the week, he had already planned a date, time and place and told Angela to be ready by 11am. It scared her how easy it felt, how quickly she was starting to care.So, on the day of the date, panic won. She cancelled last minute, blaming the feeling of heatstroke and a long day before exhausted her. Angela expected him to pull away. Instead, he asked when she would be ready. She arranged for the next day instead, fingers hovering over her phone as she hit send, wondering if some things are only terrifying because they might be real.
The first date felt less like a spark and more like a job interview she hadn't prepared for. He sat upright, hands folded around his coke glass, asking polite, well-structured questions with the seriousness of someone who has rehearsed them on the way over. Work. Family. Hobbies. Five-year plans and ambitions. He nodded at all the right movements, smiled when expected, but never quite loosened. There was flirting and glancing fixed eye contact with upholding smiles. Just careful pauses and thoughtful answers that felt edited before they reached his mouth.
Midway through her answer, something about work, she
couldn't remember what. He interrupted her, eyes narrowing slightly as he
leaned forward.
"Sorry," he said, hesitant. "There's... something on your
shirt."
Her stomach dropped. "What?"
"At first I thought it was a false lash." He added quickly,
almost embarrassed, pointing vaguely toward her chest. "Like one had fallen off."
She followed his gaze and froze. Right there, dangerously
close to where she was suddenly very aware of her body was a small green
caterpillar inching along the fabric of her shirt, completely unbothered by the tension it had caused.
"Oh my god," she laughed, half-mortified, half-relieved.
Before she could react, he reached out carefully, fingers
gentle and precise, and lifted the caterpillar. He stood, walked outside the
restaurant and placed it on a nearby plant. He was her knight in shining armour. In that exact moment.
It started harmlessly, with jokes that landed and replies that came
too fast to be polite, stories that somehow felt familiar. He asked questions.
She hasn't realised she wanted to answer. She laughed out loud at her phone. Then she caught herself, startled by how easy it felt. By the third date, she stopped pretending it was casual. By the fifth date, she was checking her screen before she checked the time.
YOU ARE READING
A Love Story That Fell Apart
RomanceWhat began as a simple swipe turned into something that felt impossibly perfect. They met on Tinder, and from the start, everything aligned too easily-the chemistry, the laughter, the shared dreams of a future that felt safe and certain. He was ever...
