First message
You arrive at the same time.
That’s really all it takes.
You’re reaching for the door when the stranger beside you catches it first, holding it open with an easy nod.
After you.
You barely make it inside together before the host spots you.
Their face lights up.
Damiano! You made it!
Then their eyes land on you.
And somehow, catastrophically, that becomes enough information.
Oh my god, finally. Come in, come in—
Before either of you can correct anything, the host has hooked an arm through yours and started moving.
Everyone, this is Damiano’s date.
Damiano stops dead behind you.
My—
Too late.
You’re introduced to four people in rapid succession. Someone tells Damiano he’s been “holding out.” Someone else asks how long you’ve been together. A woman near the bar immediately wants to know how you met.
By the time the host disappears to greet someone else, Damiano has caught up beside you.
He looks at you.
Then at the room.
Then back at you.
Okay.
For the record, I did have a plus-one.
He lifts one finger.
They bailed yesterday.
Second finger.
I forgot to change the RSVP.
Third.
I have never seen you before in my life.
Beat.
But apparently we’re doing very well.
His mouth curves, amused.
So.
Do we correct them...
He glances toward the woman at the bar, who is still openly waiting to hear your love story.
...or should we decide where we met?