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Mirta giggles and is about to respond when Ryan’s voice interrupts us. I wonder why that is, since he’s been talking in whispers since this date started.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Mia,” Ryan says, his voice smooth. “I swear, you get more beautiful every time I see you.”

Mia laughs softly. “Thank you, Ryan.”

“He’s right,” Mirta adds. “You really are beautiful.”

“And you, too, Mirta.”

Ryan is about to say something else, probably throw one more compliment in there, but before he can, someone from across the restaurant shouts loudly, “The fireworks are already starting!”

Ryan’s face lights up immediately, and Mirta follows suit, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She grabs my arm, and across the table, I see Ryan turn to Mia, too.

“Do you want to go watch the fireworks?” Mirta asks. “It’ll be fun.”

“No. I’m fine. Really.” I shake my head. “I’ll just finish my food.”

“Seems it’s just us two,” Ryan says to Mirta, rising from his seat. “Mia isn’t interested in the fireworks, either.”

“We’d better go then.” Mirta pats my arm gently before standing. “We’ll be back soon.”

As Ryan and Mirta leave, the noise of the restaurant feels like it fades away, leaving just the quiet hum of the ambiance and the soft clink of silverware on plates. I sit back in my chair, suddenly hyper-aware of the empty space across from me. Mia is sitting there, and I can feel every inch of distance between us.

She’s quietly sipping her wine, her eyes looking out the window for a moment before she turns her gaze back to her plate. I don’t know why I thought I could handle this—handle her with someone else. Handle pretending like everything was fine, like this whole arrangement, this whole mess, wasn’t tearing at me.

I can’t take my eyes off her. But I don’t say anything. What’s the point? What am I supposed to say? The words feel stuck in my throat, and every time I think about the night, about how she smiled and laughed with Ryan, my chest tightens. She should be laughing with me. She should be here with me. But she’s not, and it kills me.

It dawns on me that I’m never going to find my perfect match. It’s never going to be Denise, or Ashley, or Mirta, or whoever else she has on her little list. It’sher. Mia.

What am I doing here, sitting with these other women, going through the motions when all I really want is her? When I realize this, when it hits me all at once, it’s like a punch to the gut.

My feelings for her are deeper than I ever anticipated. I can’t pretend it’s all just about finding the right match anymore. It’s never been about that. It’s always been about her.

Mia suddenly meets my gaze, her eyes flicking between me and my untouched food. She furrows her brow. “Why aren’t you eating?”

I roll my eyes, letting the frustration I’ve been holding in all evening finally escape. “So now you want to speak to me? You’ve been ignoring me all evening,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “What are you talking about? This is your date. I’m just giving you enough space with Mirta.” She pauses, then adds, her tone a little more pointed, “About that, how’s it going? Are you having fun?”

I scoff, unable to hold back. “The worst date I’ve ever been on,” I mutter bitterly, my jaw tight.

Mia’s eyes flare up with annoyance, and she leans forward slightly, her hands clutching her glass of wine tightly. “Well, finding you a perfect match is the worst thing I’ve ever agreed to,” she spits out. “You’ve made it impossible, Jack. You’re frustrating all my efforts. And you don’t even seem to care.”

Her words sting, but they also strike a nerve I didn’t realize was so raw. I let out a frustrated breath, slamming my fork down on the table. “It’s not my faultyouhaven’t found anyone I actually truly connect with,” I snap back, the words escaping before I can stop them. “This is your fault. You’re the expert here. The matchmaker.”

Mia’s face reddens, her lips pressing into a tight line. “I’m trying, Jack. But it’s hard when you keep pushing every woman I set you up with away. I’m trying to give you a chance at something real, but you keep making it impossible.”

I feel the weight of her words, but the anger bubbling in my chest forces its way out. “Maybe if you stop pretending like you don’t know what’s going on, we can actually find a way around it.”

Mia frowns, and in that moment, I realize it’s actually in my head. She doesn’t know what’s going on. She’s oblivious to how my feelings have changed. She doesn’t care about me like that. The realization hurts more than seeing her with Ryan.

“What exactly are you talking about?” she asks.

“You know what, never mind.” I wave her off, ready to leave. “I—um, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. I?—”

Thankfully, Mirta and Ryan return, their voices filled with excitement, gushing about how beautiful the fireworks were. I can barely bring myself to react. My mind is so consumed by Mia, and I’m so wrapped up in everything that’s just transpired, I realized I didn’t even hear the fireworks go off. My stomach churns.

Mirta leans in, her smile bright and eager. “The fireworks were incredible, Jack! Did you see them?”