Peter was frustrated. It had been more than a week since we had gone on a date with him—the first one, to be honest—and he was left with the discomfort of not having received a call from us after that outing. He thought he had done something wrong, or that perhaps he had not been sweet enough despite all the little gestures, so he cursed himself for days, obsessing over what he might have done wrong. One day, he decided that enough was enough and that he would have to intervene to get answers as to why we had not called him after the date.

He walked with determination, his hood pulled over his head, clinging to the speech he had prepared for us. However… that speech vanished when he saw us from afar at the town’s crossroads, right where the kindergarten stood. There we were, kneeling down, encouraging a five-year-old girl while adjusting the backpack on her small shoulders… when a “Thank you, Mom!” was heard from the little girl. Only then did Peter realize the situation.

"W-what…? Is she a single mother…?"

Now, watching us from a distance and burdened with more questions than answers, he felt foolish for not having investigated us sooner. Our own stalker—and he had failed even at that. Yet, on the other hand… he found himself liking very much what he was seeing in us.