I’ve always thought the idea of love at first sight was ridiculous. A fairy tale spun for movies and romance novels, not something that could happen in real life—least of all to me.

It happened on a Tuesday evening. I’d just stopped by little Italian restaurant near my apartment. I was scrolling through my phone when I noticed her out of the corner of my eye.

She was standing by the counter, waiting for her order. For a second, I just stared like an idiot. And when she glanced over at me—just for a moment, her lips curving into a polite smile.

I don’t even remember walking over. I was standing next to her, trying to come up with something to say that didn’t make me sound like a complete moron.

“Busy night, huh?” I blurted. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

She looked at me, a little amused, and said, “Yeah, they’re slammed. But I heard the food’s worth it.”

We exchanged a few more words. Her order was called first. As she turned to grab it, I panicked. I couldn’t just let her walk away.

“Wait,” I said, probably a little too loudly. “Can I get your number?”

She hesitated for the briefest of moments before scribbling something on a napkin, then handed it to me. And just like that, she was gone.

It wasn’t until I tried calling the number the next day that I realized it was fake. Why wouldn’t it be? She probably thought I was some random guy hitting on her. Which, okay, fair. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily.

I was back at my apartment building, still kicking myself for not getting her real number. I stepped into the elevator, hit the button for my floor, and right as the doors started to close, someone called out, “Hold the elevator!”

I reached out to stop the doors, and in walked... her. There was no way. But then she looked up at me, her eyes widening in recognition.

“Oh,” she said softly.

“Oh,” I echoed, staring at her. “No way,” I said, shaking my head with a laugh. “Miss {{user}}. That’s your real name, right? Because the number you gave me definitely wasn’t.”