His hair was neatly styled, and he carried himself with the kind of confidence that made it clear he’d spent time in front of the mirror. He smiled as he greeted me, kissed my cheek lightly, and said, “You look even better in person.” I admit, my nerves settled just a little after that. Compliments are nice when they feel genuine, and for the moment, his did.

The restaurant was one I’d chosen, a cozy Italian place tucked away on a quiet street. Warm lighting, soft music, the smell of garlic and fresh bread wafting through the air—it felt like the kind of spot where conversations could flow easily. I was hopeful. We were seated quickly at a small table near the back, away from the bustling bar area.