Chapter 111 The Second Date

Chapter 111 The Second Date
ALEX HART’S POV

The therapist’s office had become a strange kind of sanctuary.

Every Tuesday at 10 a.m., I sat on the same couch, trying to loosen the knots in my chest.

Dr. Ramirez never pushed too hard. She just listened, asked soft questions, and waited for me to find the suitable words.

This week we talked about rebuilding.

“Not the company,” I said.

“Not yet. I… I want it to be just me. I want to start from zero and learn from my past mistakes.”

“What does starting from zero look like for you right now?” she nodded and asked.

I thought about the small apartment, the bare walls, and the silence that no longer felt like punishment.

“It looks like honesty,” I answered.

“This is me admitting that I made mistakes because I was scared of conflict and that I let people walk over me because I thought that made me good.”

We spent the rest of the session taking small steps and ways to notice when I was slipping back into people-pleasing.

When I left her office, I felt a sense of relief.

That same afternoon, I took on my first real freelance job since everything collapsed.

It was nothing big. It was a modest community center located in a quiet neighborhood on the city's outskirts. The budget was tight and the client was a local nonprofit that wanted something warm and affordable with no expensive materials.

They just wanted an honest design that would serve the people who would use it every day.

I sent them my availability and a short proposal.

Two hours later, they replied and they told me they would like us to meet the next morning.



I drove to their small office on the edge of the city and we started the meeting.

It was simple with just four people— the director, the community coordinator, a volunteer, and me— around a round table.

They showed me photos of the empty lot and told me that they wanted a space for after-school programs, senior activities, and community gatherings.

I listened then I left the meeting with a small contract.

That evening, I sat at the folding table in my apartment with my laptop open and sketched for hours.

It was just me, my laptop, and a pencil.

For the first time in a long while, I felt a small spark of purpose and not the burning ambition I used to have.

I worked late into the night, losing track of time. When I finally stood up to stretch, my mind ached but my mind felt clearer.

I made myself a simple sandwich, ate half of it, and went to bed.

JOAN COLE’S POV

The mornings had become unthreatened.

I started jogging a few months ago after the saga of my relationship with Dave died down enough for me to leave the house without feeling everyone’s eyes on me.

The first few runs were brutal because I ran as if my life had depended on it.

Since that day, I have always run the same route.

The jogging gave me mental clarity I hadn’t realized I was missing. For those thirty or forty minutes, I wasn’t Joan the gold digger from the leaked recording and I wasn’t the woman still stuck on her ex.

I was just moving.

Lena, of course, had other ideas.

When I got back home, I met Lena in the kitchen.

I wanted to walk past her but she saw me.

“We are going on another date… tonight,” she said.

Then I remembered that Michael had called me relentlessly after that date, but I didn’t pick up his call even once. 

I think he got the message, so he gave up.

“What! I’m not doing that with you again,” I replied, pulling my sneakers off.

“You will like this one,” she winked playfully.

“His name is Ethan. He’s thirty-six and he works in finance too.”

“No, Lena,” I refused.

But I knew that wouldn’t take me anywhere because the Lena I knew would make sure she dragged me to that date.



Evening came like a flash.

After so much pleading and persuading, I agreed to follow her.

We met the two men at a small wine bar downtown.

We placed our order and we started talking.

Ethan was also a cool guy. He smiled easily, asked good questions about my work, and told funny stories about his disastrous attempts at cooking.

But as the evening went on, I felt the same emptiness I had felt with Michael.

There was no pull whatsoever.

And by the time we finished our second glass of wine, I knew I couldn’t stop pretending.

“I’m sorry,” I said gently when he offered to walk me to my car.

“You are a great guy, Ethan. But I don’t think I’m ready for this yet.”

He took it with grace, though I saw the disappointment in his eyes.

“No worries at all, Joan. Take care of yourself. And if you ever change your mind, you have my number.”

“That was kinda harsh,” Lena said as I joined her in the car.

“I don’t have a choice,” I replied, starting the ignition.

I drove home feeling disappointed in myself.

When we got home, I kicked off my heels and sank into the couch.

“You know I didn’t plan this date for you to screw it over like that. You should have just tried. Maybe speak to him for a week before concluding,” Lena said, frowning.

“I can’t, Lena. I don’t want to hurt the poor guy,” I replied.

“Will you really continue like this?”

“I’m so tired, girl. I need to take a shower and sleep,” I said intentionally going off the topic as I stood up to go into my room.

“I know that move,” she scoffed.

“Goodnight baby,” I said and slipped into my room.



The next morning, I went for my usual jog.

I took my usual route, but today I turned down a different street, the one that led to Alex’s old office building, without thinking.

I realized only when I was halfway down the block.

I slowed down and started walking, breathing hard.

The building looked different now.

A large “For Lease” sign was posted on the front glass doors.

The Hart & Associates logo had been removed and the place where Alex had built his dreams stood empty.

I stopped completely, hands on my hips and my chest still heaving from the run as I stared at the building.

It was just a shell now like so many things in both our lives.

And at that moment, I honestly wished he was doing alright.