Chapter 4: The Date

The morning of the date was a blur of nerves and preparation. I kept it simple—minimal makeup, just enough to make me feel a bit polished, and I brushed my hair until it was as neat as it could get. Alice had insisted I looked great, but I still checked the mirror about a dozen times before I left.

I was terrified of being late, so I left the house way too early. The walk to the park felt longer than usual, every step amplifying the fluttering in my chest. By the time I got there, it was only 3:30. I groaned, realizing I’d overestimated how long it would take.

The park was lively, filled with kids running around, couples walking hand in hand, and people lounging on picnic blankets. I wandered to a quieter area, my eyes scanning the crowd for her. I didn’t know what I was expecting—what if she looked different in person? What if I couldn’t recognize her?

No one seemed to match her pictures exactly. My mind spun with questions. Would she have that same breathtaking smile? Those sharp cheekbones that could cut glass? I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to steady my nerves.

Then I turned around and saw her.

There was no mistaking it. It was her.

She was tall—taller than I’d imagined—and every inch of her radiated effortless confidence. She wore plain jeans and a sweatshirt with some quirky saying I couldn’t quite read from a distance. Her dark hair was styled neatly in a pixie cut, framing her face perfectly. Round sunglasses rested on her nose, adding to her effortlessly cool vibe.

My knees felt like they might give out, and my palms were suddenly damp. She looked like she’d stepped out of a fantasy novel, her elvish features even more stunning in person. Mesmerizing didn’t even begin to describe her.

I must have looked ridiculous standing there, gawking at her like a deer in headlights. When I finally remembered how to move, I managed a small, awkward wave and a stupid smile.

She noticed and started walking toward me. Her movements were easy and fluid, like she was gliding across the ground. My heart pounded louder with every step she took.

When she reached me, she pulled off her sunglasses, revealing those warm, doe-brown eyes that had first caught my attention. And then she spoke.

“Hi, you’re Emma, right?”

Her voice. Oh God, her voice. It was low and smooth, with just a hint of warmth that made my knees even weaker. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that my mouth was dry, and I struggled to remember how to form words.

“Yes,” I managed to squeak out, my voice higher than I intended. I cleared my throat and tried again, forcing a nervous smile. “Yeah, that’s me. And you’re ‘I,’ I mean… you’re, uh, you.”

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made my chest tighten. “That’s me. But you can call me Irene.”

“Irene” I repeated, her name feeling strange and wonderful on my tongue. “It’s nice to meet you. Finally.”

Her smile widened, and it was everything I’d hoped for—bright and genuine, the kind that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “It’s nice to meet you too, Emma.”

We stood there for a moment, awkwardly but pleasantly, before she gestured toward the park. “Want to walk for a bit?”

I nodded, too nervous to say anything else, and fell into step beside her. My heart was still racing, but for the first time that day, I felt a small flicker of something else—hope. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

As we walked through the park, I felt my nerves fighting a losing battle against Irene’s easygoing presence. She talked, weaving story after story with that perfect voice of hers, and I couldn’t do much more than nod, laugh, and occasionally mumble something in response.

“So, my friend Maya,” Irene said, her hands animated as she spoke, “thought it would be a great idea to go hiking without a map. She said, ‘Oh, I’ve been here before, I know exactly where we’re going.’ Spoiler alert: she did not know where we were going.”

I laughed, the sound bubbling out of me before I could stop it. “What happened?”

“We ended up at this random taco stand in the middle of nowhere,” Irene said, grinning. “It was sketchy as hell, but we were starving, so we tried it. Turns out, they had the best tacos I’ve ever had in my life. We go back every year now. On purpose this time.”

“Sounds like Maya’s bad sense of direction paid off,” I said, feeling a little braver about speaking.

“Sometimes chaos works in your favor,” she replied with a wink.

I couldn’t stop watching her. Everything about her was mesmerizing—her lips when they curved into a smile, her eyes that sparkled with amusement, the way her hands moved as she spoke. I felt like I was meeting someone I’d known forever, like an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. It was surreal, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere. But from where?

“So,” Irene said, glancing at me, “what about you? Do you hike?”

I froze for a moment, the question catching me off guard. “Uh, not really,” I admitted. “I went on a couple hikes with my parents. But I’m more of a ‘curl up with a book’ kind of person.”

“Fair enough,” she said, her smile easy and warm. “What do you read? Fantasy? Mystery? Romance?”

“Mostly fantasy,” I said, a little more confident now. “I like stories that feel like an escape.”

“Me too,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “Though, to be honest, I’m more of a movie person. Something about seeing it all come to life on screen.”

“Movies are great,” I said quickly, eager to keep the conversation going. “Do you have a favorite?”

“Probably The Lord of the Rings,” she said. “It’s classic. Elves, epic battles, and breathtaking landscapes—what’s not to love?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “That checks out. You kind of look like an elf.”

Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is,” I said, my cheeks flushing.

I’d always been an introvert, preferring the comfort of my own company or the small circle of people I trusted—Alice, my family, and occasionally myself. Parties weren’t my thing, and the idea of being surrounded by so many people like Irene was made me feel out of place just thinking about it. But with Irene, it didn’t seem intimidating. It just seemed… fun.

One thing we had in common, though, was our shared love of food—specifically, meat. When Irene suggested we grab a bite to eat, we both immediately agreed on a grill restaurant nearby.

The grill restaurant smelled amazing, the air thick with the scent of sizzling meat. Irene scanned the menu and immediately pointed to the largest platter, a feast of ribs, steaks, and skewers.

“This one,” she said confidently. “Go big or go home.”

I grinned. “I like the way you think.”

As the platter arrived, I hesitated for a moment, unsure of the etiquette. But Irene didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a rib and digging in with a satisfied smile.

“This,” she said between bites, “is what weekends are made for.”

I laughed, finally feeling the tension in my chest start to ease. “Agreed.”

“What’s your favorite food?” she asked, glancing at me.

“Chicken and cauliflower stew,” I said without hesitation. “It’s one of those meals that’s simple but so comforting. My mom taught me the recipe, and it’s become kind of my go-to.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s unexpected. Do you cook a lot?”

“Yeah, I love it,” I said, feeling more confident now. “Especially baking. I’m always the one in charge of birthday cakes and desserts in my family.”

Irene smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Okay, that’s impressive. I can bake exactly… nothing. My cooking skills are pretty much limited to survival mode.”

I laughed, my curiosity piqued. “What’s ‘survival mode’?”

“Spaghetti, scrambled eggs, and toast,” she said, ticking them off on her fingers. “That’s about the extent of my culinary expertise.”

“What about grilling?” I asked, gesturing to the platter in front of us.

“Ah,” she said, her grin widening. “Grilling is different. In my friends’ group, I’m the designated grill master. It’s fire and meat—can’t really mess that up.”

“Spoken like someone who knows their way around a barbecue,” I teased.

She chuckled, pointing a rib bone at me. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried my grilled chicken. It’s legendary.”

We fell into an easy rhythm, talking and laughing as we worked our way through the platter. By the time the last skewer was gone, I felt like I’d known her forever. That strange sense of familiarity lingered, but I pushed it aside, choosing to focus on the moment.

Irene leaned back in her chair, wiping her hands with a napkin. “This was fun,” she said, her smile making my chest tighten again. “We should do it again sometime.”

I nodded, my heart racing. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I genuinely meant it.