The night of the so-called “date” arrived faster than Elias had expected. He stood in front of his mirror, buttoning the cuffs of a crisp white shirt. No tie, no blazer — just a casual, perfectly fitted shirt and dark jeans. He wasn’t dressing to impress. 

This wasn’t a real date to him; it was just an obligation, a performance to keep his grandmother’s temper in check.

He stared at his own reflection for a moment, thinking of Maya. Even as he combed his hair into place, his phone sat on the nightstand, screen lighting up again and again with her picture from their last date. 

He had been calling...