The night had everything I’d meticulously planned: soft candlelight, fine wine, and a cozy Italian restaurant tucked away from the world. This was my third date with Susan, the woman who’d captured my attention on Tinder with her mix of wit and charm. After two perfect dates, I was ready to take things to the next level. But life had other plans, and they came crashing through the door in the form of my colleague, Linda, and her three kids.
Susan arrived in a stunning navy dress that caught the flickering glow of the candles just right. As we settled into our table and began to talk, I thought, This could really be something. That’s when the sound of the restaurant door swinging open grabbed my attention. A familiar voice followed.
“Oh, hey, Rob! Fancy seeing you here!”
I froze. It was Linda from accounting, marching toward us with her kids in tow. Linda, the magnetic yet intimidating single mom of three, whose sharp intellect and striking beauty often left people—including me—unsure whether to admire her or run the other way.
“Linda?” I managed, barely hiding my confusion.
Without hesitation, she plopped down at our table, her kids eagerly reaching for the breadbasket. “It’s packed tonight,” she said nonchalantly. “We’ll just join you. You don’t mind, right?”
I did mind. Susan, visibly annoyed, leaned toward me. “Friend of yours?”
“Colleague,” I corrected quickly, trying to keep the situation from spiraling.
Linda, however, had other plans. She placed a hand on mine, leaning in with a knowing smirk. “You didn’t tell me you were having dinner with her. Thought you were babysitting tonight.”
“What are you talking about?” I hissed, panic setting in.
She turned to Susan with mock innocence. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. It’s just, well, Rob’s been such a big part of my kids’ lives. I thought we were… more.”
Susan shot up, furious. “You know what? You two clearly have things to figure out.” Grabbing her purse, she stormed out.
I stood to follow, but Linda’s toddler latched onto my leg, giggling and oblivious to the chaos. As the restaurant fell silent, I turned to Linda, anger bubbling beneath my calm exterior.
“What are you doing? You just ruined my date!”
Linda, unfazed, leaned back with a sly smile. “I saved you.”
“Saved me? From what?”
She pulled out her phone and flipped the screen toward me. It was a mugshot. Susan’s mugshot.
“She’s a con artist,” Linda explained. “She targets men, gains their trust, and drains their bank accounts. My brother’s a cop—saw her face at the station last night. I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. When I saw you here, I panicked.”
Staring at the screen, I struggled to process her words. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious. She’s probably being arrested right now. You’re welcome.”
I wanted to be furious, but as her words sank in, so did the realization: Susan wasn’t who I thought she was. And Linda—chaotic, maddening Linda—had just spared me a world of hurt.
The rest of the night was a blur. Linda and her kids stayed, and by the end of dinner, her eldest had lightened the mood with jokes about pizza and dessert. Despite everything, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Two years later, that chaotic night remains the turning point in my life. Linda and I are now together, raising her three kids as a family. She still teases me about “thanking her” for that night, and she’s right—I do. Every single day.
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