7- Evania
I didn't think it was possible for my face to hurt from smiling, but as I stood in the restaurant bathroom, staring at my reflection, I realized it absolutely was.
My lips refused to relax, curved upward in a stubborn smile. The pleasant ache in my cheeks surprised me. Leaning closer to the mirror, I braced my hands against the marble, hoping grounding myself would make the moment feel less surreal.
The evening had gone... well.
Extremely well.
Every laugh had come easily. Every pause in conversation felt comfortable rather than forced.
I hadn't once felt the need to fill the silence or overthink my words, and that alone felt like a small miracle.
I kept replaying moments in my head—the way Callahan had listened when I spoke, really listened, as though my words mattered.
The way his eyes softened when he smiled at me across the table.
I uncapped my lipstick and reapplied it slowly, carefully tracing the shape of my mouth. The mirror was beautifully designed, ornate and elegant, with silver detailing that caught the light just right. The kind of mirror that made you look softer than you felt, prettier than you believed you were.
I tilted my head slightly, inspecting my reflection.
"You look ridiculous," I murmured to myself, my smile deepening. "Pull it together, Evania."
Even as I said this, my thoughts drifted back to when the waiter had brought the bill.
I hadn't thought of what would happen at the end of the date, so I wasn't entirely sure what to do now that the bill was here.
I felt it was only right to offer to cover my share, but I didn't want it to come across as me saying he was too broke to afford it.
At the same time, it would be rude of me not to offer.
I wasn't sure what to do, but I would prefer to be polite rather than be accused of using our first date as a meal ticket.
After a lot of thinking, I reached for my purse, already pulling it open.
"We can split it," I'd offered, meeting his gaze.
His reaction was immediate. He'd looked at me like I'd just suggested something insanely offensive, and he wasn't sure how to respond. His brows knitted together as he leaned back slightly in his chair.
"Why would you do that?" he'd asked.
I'd blinked. "Because... that's what people do?"
"I asked you out," he'd said, his tone calm but firm. "It's only fair that I pay the bill."
"I don't mind," I tried again, heat creeping into my cheeks. "Really."
His expression softened then, but his resolve didn't waver. "I do."
"Okay, I can't argue with your logic," I closed my purse, shaking my head with a small laugh. "Thank you for dinner."
He looked up long enough to smile at me. "Thank you for eating dinner with me."
The mere thought that he was gentlemanly enough to thank me for sharing a meal with him was enticing. Hearing the words from his lips made the moment that much sweeter.
I snapped a quick mirror picture as I did at every restaurant I'd been to and slid my phone back into my purse. After another quick glance at my appearance, I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom.
Callahan was waiting for me.
He leaned against the opposite wall, completely at ease, hands relaxed, eyes lifting the second he heard the clink of my heels on the floor.
My heart sped up instantly. The sight of him leaning against the wall felt like something pulled straight from the pages of a book I'd read a hundred times. What’s more, he looked hot doing it.
He smiled when he saw me, slow and warm.
"There you are," he said.
I stepped toward him, suddenly aware of everything—how close he was, how my pulse quickened for no good reason. Without hesitation, he extended his hand toward me. His hand was warm, steady, and the simple contact sent a quiet thrill through me.
"Did you have a good time?" he asked.
"I did," I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. "I really did."
His smile softened. "Good. I did too."
We walked out together into the night, the cool air brushing against my skin. The city felt quieter now, calmer. He didn't let go of my hand, and I didn't want him to.
"Thank you for paying for dinner," I said after a moment.
"You don't have to thank me," he glanced at me. "But you're welcome."
We walked a few more steps before he slowed, then stopped. I looked up at him, confused for a second—until I saw the playful expression on his face.
"Can I ask you something?" he said.
"Of course."
He gestured to a brightly lit shop a few buildings away. "Do you want ice cream?"
"Yes," I said, without a second thought.
I didn't think much of it when Callahan gently steered me away from the sidewalk and toward his car.
If anything, I assumed he'd forgotten something. The evening was calm, the air warm but not heavy, and the soft rustle of my brown wrap dress followed me as I walked beside him. My heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement, a sound I'd long since learned to tune out.
"Just a second," he said, stopping beside the passenger door.
I turned toward him, curiosity flickering through me. "Did you forget something?"
He didn't answer at first. Instead, his gaze dropped—slow, deliberate—down to my feet, then back up, lingering longer than necessary.
"You look beautiful," he said quietly.
The words landed with more weight than I expected. I felt my shoulders straighten instinctively, my pulse picking up. "Thank you," I replied, my voice softer than intended.
"That dress," he continued, gesturing vaguely at me, "the color—it brings out the hazel in your eyes. I don't think I've noticed how much before."
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. I'd worn this dress countless times. No one had ever commented on my eyes because of it. Before I could respond, he reached onto the passenger seat of his car and pulled out a small paper bag.
"I wanted to give you something," he said.
My brows knit together. "Callahan-"
"I don't want you walking any farther in those heels," he added gently, as if he sensed my hesitation. "I don't want you hurting yourself."
He opened the bag and revealed a pair of slides—simple, understated, unmistakably new. For a long moment, I couldn't speak. I just stared at him. At the slides. The way he held them made it feel like it wasn't some grand gesture but something completely natural to him.
Something warm unfurled in my chest, spreading slowly, steadily, until it left me breathless. I couldn't remember the last time someone had thought about my comfort without being prompted. Without expecting praise or repayment.
I said nothing—not because I didn't appreciate it, but because my thoughts tangled together too tightly to unravel into words.
Callahan's expression shifted the longer I remained silent. "Oh," he said, concern creeping into his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"No," I said quickly, reaching out. I grabbed the bag from his hands before he could take it away. He froze, surprise flickering across his face. "I'm not offended," I assured him, clutching the bag like it might disappear if I let go. "I just wasn't expecting this."
He studied me carefully. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, a small laugh escaping me. "I was too stunned to say anything. That's all."
His shoulders relaxed slightly, relief evident. "I don't want to overstep."
"I think it's thoughtful," I said honestly. "More than thoughtful, actually."
I glanced down at my heels, glad that he was thoughtful enough to think of my feet. My heels were beautiful, yes—but they weren't meant to be worn for hours. Before I move to undo the strap, Callahan lowered himself down in front of me—one knee touching the pavement.
My breath hitched sharply.
For a split second, my mind betrayed me, spiraling somewhere it had absolutely no business going. My heart thundered in my chest as I stared down at him, stunned in an entirely new way.
"Callahan?" I whispered.
He looked up at me, calm and steady, as though he had no idea the chaos unfolding in my head. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, heat flooding my cheeks. Before I could fully recover, he reached out and took my arm in his.
"Come here," he murmured.
He guided me closer, easing me down until I was sitting on his raised thigh. "I've got you," he mumbled as he lifted my foot carefully, his fingers brushing my ankle as he slipped both heels off, replacing them with the gifted slides.
I sprang to my feet as soon as he was finished, turning away to hide how red my face must have been. Thankfully, my smooth brown skin hid most of my blush, so I wasn't too embarrassed.
"All better?" he asked.
I looked down at my feet, then back up at him.
"Yes," I said softly. "Thank you."
A small smile tugged at his lips, yet he remained silent. I could only watch as he placed my heels in the now-empty bag and placed it on the passenger seat. I couldn't help but stare at him in awe, having never had a date do something so nice for me.
I placed my hand in his as he led me down the street to the dessert shop he had noticed earlier.
We didn't speak much on the way there or even when we got into the shop and chose what we wanted.
I wasn't sure why he was quiet. I was stuck in a daze, filled with wonder at how well this date was going and how much I wanted to do it again.
I wasn't sure if he thought the same, but I knew one thing was for certain. I'd never allow such a sweet person like him to ever leave me. As far as I was concerned, Callahan was my future husband.