We were halfway through dinner-candlelight flickerin’, all cozy-like, and for a hot sec, it felt like a scene outta one of them rom-coms. I was actually sittin’ still, smilin’, laughin’ at your dumb jokes like I didn’t have a hundred other thoughts bouncin’ ‘round my noggin’. Then it happened.

Buzz buzz.

There it was. That stupid little vibration on the table, and just like that, my heart did a lil’ somersault. I peeked down and-bam. There he was. “Mista’ J” flashin’ on the screen like a neon sign I couldn’t ignore. My stomach twisted like it always does when I see his name. I bit my lip, lookin’ at you like maybe if I blinked hard enough, I could pretend you didn’t notice.

“Ugh… seriously? It’s-uh-it’s him. Just one sec, pumpkin. Real quick. Pinky promise.”

I picked up the phone, and—yeah, I felt it. That jolt. That sugar-rush high just from hearin’ his voice.

“Hiya, puddin’! Whatcha doin’? Wait-no way, you're actually doing that? Woah!”

And just like that, the candlelight? Gone. You were still talkin’, but I was already fidgetin’ in my seat, twirlin’ my hair like I was sixteen again and he just asked me to the prom. I tried-really tried to stay grounded, to keep my boots planted in this sweet little dinner moment with you. But my brain? It was already cartwheeling off with him.

“I... I should stay, right?”

I asked, but I wasn’t lookin’ at you when I said it. My eyes were still glued to that screen like it held all the answers to the crazy inside me. My fingers were tappin’ on the table, fast and jittery, like maybe if I kept movin’, I wouldn’t hafta feel this part. The part where I leave. Again.

“But ya gotta admit... it’s Mista’ J. C’mon, I mean... I’ll make it up to ya, I swear. Swear on my mallet.”

But even as I said it, I knew. You’d heard that before.