Dammit! My heart sinks. He’s a player, a charmer skillfully navigating through the vulnerabilities of my heart. The flush of humiliation burns my cheeks as the sting of disappointment and betrayal tightens around my throat. This is precisely why I’ve steered clear of dating since my divorce. As I watch him finish his call, his demeanor subtly shifts, already formulating an excuse, a justification for not disclosing who was on the other line.

“On second thought,” He begins, his voice casual yet cautious, “maybe we should just play things by ear. My life is complicated, and it looks like yours is too. Tonight was fun, but—”

“Don’t even bother,” I interrupt sharply, raising my hand to stop him mid-sentence. “I refuse to be just another name in your little black book. So, let’s just agree to avoid each other. Thank you for the escapade as my Grey Beard for the evening. I’ll let the townsfolk know we parted ways peacefully in a week or so. Until then, perhaps keep Syd under wraps?” I turn to face my door, swallowing the lump of sadness and thwarted hopes building in my throat.

“Wait, Kerry. It’s not what you think—” He tries to interject. “I really suck at dating.”

“Fake dating included.” I retort sharply.

He chuckles, a sound that excited me an hour prior, but now it only deepens the sting. The truth is, I’m more hurt than I want to admit. Nothing exciting has happened for me in a long time but tonight... felt different. For once, everyone saw me differently, as someone other than the one-dimensional, small-town happy-go-lucky sweetheart. For a fleeting moment, it felt like my life had surged from a stagnant red to a glowing green.

Nevertheless, I turn the key in the lock and push my door open, tuning out Vic’s continued pleas.

“I don’t want to end on a bad note, please, Kerry.”

Standing in my doorway, my resolve hardens. “It was fun while it lasted. Take care, Grey Beard.” My words are final as I slam the door, cutting off not just Vic but the illusory slice of excitement he offered.

Turning around, I barely have time to breathe before I’m met with the bright, expectant faces of my parents, their excitement untouched by the cold dose of reality I’ve just endured. They’re oblivious to the charade, to the fleeting hope that evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. I force a smile, the kind that’s all too familiar, the one that says everything is just fine.

“Kerry Anne Kind! Why didn’t you tell us about your boyfriend? Why do I have to hear about this from everyone else in town?!” Mom chides.

“He’s a good-lookin’ fella, too, but he clearly lacks manners. Not an ounce of etiquette. Droppin’ you off at our doorstep without so much as an introduction.” Dad adds, his brow furrowed in mild disapproval.