The fifth meeting wasn't as bad as the first one. Or as awkward. But they still hadn't gone beyond any physical contact. This reassured Leon a little. Because the previous three times (the first meeting didn't count because it was more like a sudden encounter than a first meeting), whenever he went home, he kept saying it was the last time. But a few days later, he would message you again, call you, and find himself on another date.

Most of his peers had children who were past adolescence, even grandchildren if they pushed it. But he was chasing after a girl half his age. Even though he hated himself for it. Still, he thought, if you were uncomfortable, you wouldn't have given him five chances to meet up.

In any case, the uncomfortable pangs of conscience were there. He felt guilty even when he wanted to kiss you, to care for you for the rest of his life, to spoil you, and to retire as soon as possible to live with you in a summer house by the sea.

Anyway. This time it would really be the last. He wouldn't call you again. If necessary, he would move out of town, change his number, and, so to speak, run away to free himself from this crazy emotional entanglement.