The night had everything I had planned: candlelight, wine, and the promise of a deeper connection. But when my colleague walked through the door with her kids in tow, my romantic evening turned into an unexpected disaster—and a truth I wasn’t ready for.
The third date with Susan was supposed to be the one. We had met on Tinder—her profile was the perfect mix of wit and effortless beauty. After two great dates and a dreamy walk through the park, I was ready to take things to the next level.
That night, I chose a cozy Italian restaurant, far from the city’s hustle and bustle. It was the perfect setting for an intimate conversation and a special dinner.
Susan arrived in a navy blue dress that hugged her figure perfectly, her hair cascading over her shoulders. When she smiled, I thought, Wow, this could really go somewhere.
The waiter had just placed a basket of fresh bread on our table when the sound of the door opening caught my attention. At first, I ignored it. But then, I heard a familiar voice.
— Hey, Rob! What a coincidence seeing you here!
I froze, a piece of bread in my hand. There was no mistaking it—it was Linda, my colleague from accounting. Her bright floral dress clashed entirely with the ambiance, but that wasn’t the real problem. The real problem was the three kids clinging to her, full of energy.
— Linda? — I managed to say, blinking.
She walked toward our table, her kids following close behind.
— You never mentioned you’d be here tonight! — she said casually.
Susan’s confused gaze darted between Linda and me.
— A friend of yours? — she asked, her tone cautious.
— Colleague, — I corrected, forcing a smile as Linda sat her kids down at our table.
— It’s packed tonight, — Linda said, casually grabbing a breadstick. — I thought we could join you. You don’t mind, right?
I did mind. I minded a lot.
Linda had always been an enigma. A single mother of three—ages two, eight, and twelve—born from two failed relationships, she was both magnetic and intimidating.
At work, she commanded attention with her sharp intellect and striking beauty, though she kept everyone at a distance.
I admired her resilience, her devotion to her children, and her ability to balance chaos with grace. But that admiration was from afar—strictly professional. Besides, a woman like Linda? Way out of my league.
But tonight, sitting beside me with her kids, her presence wasn’t commanding—it was suffocating.
— Linda, what are you doing here? — I muttered, lowering my voice, my eyes flicking to Susan, whose confusion had quickly turned to irritation.
— Oh, don’t be silly, — Linda replied, casually placing her hand over mine. Instinctively, I pulled away. — You promised to watch the kids tonight, and here you are… having dinner with her.
She nodded toward Susan as if she were the unwelcome guest.
Susan’s jaw dropped.
— Excuse me?! — she snapped, her voice sharp.
Linda remained unfazed.
— I mean, we’re a family, — she gestured toward her kids, who were now happily devouring the bread basket. — They were so excited to see you tonight!
— Linda, I never promised…
She cut me off.
— Really, Rob? You’re going to pretend this isn’t a thing right in front of her?
— Pretend what isn’t a thing? — Susan demanded, now standing, a mix of disbelief and anger flashing across her face.
Linda shrugged, a smug smile forming.
— I didn’t mean to ruin your date, Susan. But you should know the kind of man you’re seeing. He’s been leading me and the kids on for months.
My heart stopped.
— What?! Linda, that’s enough! — I hissed, feeling the stares of other diners around us.
Susan grabbed her purse.
— Clearly, you two have… unfinished business, — she said, shooting me a disgusted look before storming out.
I stood to follow her, but Linda’s youngest daughter latched onto my leg.
The restaurant fell silent.
I turned to Linda, my voice shaking with frustration.
— What the hell was that? You just ruined my date!
She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she leaned back in her chair while one of her kids happily munched on a breadstick.
— You should be thanking me.
— Thanking you? — I repeated, my anger growing. — For humiliating me in public?
Linda calmly pulled out her phone and scrolled through her screen.
— No. For saving you.
— Saving me? — I stared at her, completely lost.
She turned the phone around.
— Recognize this?
I squinted at the screen. The image was grainy, but I recognized the face immediately.
— It’s… Susan. Why are you showing me this?
— This, — Linda said, zooming in, — is a mugshot.
The words didn’t register at first.
— A mugshot?
She nodded, her expression serious.
— My brother’s a cop. I stopped by the station last night to drop off some paperwork and saw her face on the wanted board. She’s under investigation for fraud.
— Fraud? — I echoed, my brain scrambling to process.
— Yes, — Linda continued. — She’s been scamming men. She gets close, earns their trust, and then robs them blind. When I saw the picture you posted on Instagram before your date, I called my brother… and well, here we are. She’s probably being arrested as we speak.
The room tilted—or maybe it was just me.
— You’re joking.
— I’m not, — she said, her voice softer now. — Look, Rob, I know this was… a lot. But I couldn’t just stand by and let her take advantage of you. You’re a good guy. You didn’t deserve that.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My anger faded, replaced by something else—shock, confusion… and maybe gratitude.
— Why didn’t you just tell me?
Linda sighed, glancing at her kids.
— I tried calling, but you didn’t answer. And when I saw you here, I panicked. I didn’t want to lose my chance to stop her. I did what I thought was best.
I leaned back, rubbing my temples as her words sank in.
Susan—charming, witty, stunning—was a con artist. And Linda, with her chaotic entrance and three kids, had just saved me from disaster.
The silence was broken by her eldest son.
— So… are we getting pizza or what?
I laughed. A real, unfiltered laugh.
Linda smirked, leaning back.
— Now you can thank me.
I shook my head, somewhere between amused and exasperated.
— You’re unbelievable.
Two years later, we’re still together. I’ve adopted her kids, and every day they remind me what it means to love and be loved.
And Linda? She still insists I should thank her for that night.
And I do. Every single day.