EVAN

I couldn't tell you what I wore or most of the conversation. I can describe in great detail about the embarrassment and the awkwardness that encounter entailed for me. He had absolutely no problem with the dinner. It's like he found my awkwardness amusing.

During this time in my life, I went by my middle name just because my first name was so common it made me sick to go by it. So what does he introduce me as? My first name.

I looked at him with a WTF expression on my face. "What?" he inquired. "That's not my name," I explained. Then it dawned on him that I don't go by that, despite it being on my Facebook account.

"Sorry, mom. This is Narnia." My nickname? Seriously? I smack his arm. "What?!" he gasps, "Oooohhhh. This is Nerissa." His mom raises her eyebrow at me like I'm insane. This is off to a good start. Not.

The waitress comes around for a drink order and being Olive Garden, they offer a wine. "Oh just for us," his mom points at herself and Evan's family there, "These two aren't old enough to drink." I look at my lap while Evan chokes on his own tongue and snorts, causing his mom to again, raise her eyebrow at me.

"Actually she is, ma," he laughs while my face turns bright red. She obviously disapproves of the age gap. I continue just looking at my lap. His aunt speaks up, "Atta boy, Evan. Gettin' them older women." Yeah, that doesn't help the situation much. Evan's mom stops making eye contact with me. It's for the best. I don't really know how to look her in the eye anymore. Not when she makes it seem like I'm robbing the cradle. I kind of am.

We finish dinner and he walks me to my car. I had to drive separate because of the work situation. He wraps me up in his bear hug arms and all of the embarrassment melts away. "I wish you were coming with us," he sighs into the top of my head. I just nod in agreement.

I head to work and shed a few tears when he sends me videos of the fireworks I'm missing out on with him.

______________________________________________

"How do you feel about a wedding?" I ask. That catches his sleepy attention. He pokes his head up from his position on my couch. "My cousin is getting married. I need a date. Any chance you'd want to tag along?" He eagerly agrees, especially when I tell him he would be the first boyfriend I'd ever brought to meet my grandparents. All of the excitement is short lived as he crashes on my couch the day of and I couldn't wake him up to go. I had bought a dress specifically for the wedding and I still haven't worn it to this day, knowing what it was supposed to be for and how he bailed on me. It's navy blue fabric just hanging untouched in my closet. Let's count that as Red Flag #3? 4? They are really adding up at this point. I'm just dodging them left, right, and backwards like Keanu Reeves in Matrix.

"I'm really sorry I slept through it. I stayed up all night in excitement and had planned to sleep on the way down." I instantly forgave him. We ended up making up in bed. Why would we talk about feelings when we have sex?

This time was different though. I was caught up in my head afterwards while he was his usual happy self following the act. He pulled my chin up to look at him. Looking into those concerned deep blue eyes, I got lost like the first time all over again. I wanted to tell him how I felt, but I couldn't spit it out. He could see that. I took his hand and held it palm up. I traced it into his palm. "I LOVE YOU". I didn't even get all the way through. His soft lips crashed down onto mine, pushing me back into the bed. He squealed like a school girl and laughed.

"I've been waiting for you to say it. I've been dying to tell you that too. I love you!" he exclaimed. He rests his forehead against mine and slowed down and he says it again, hushed "I love you."

That's all it took to push me over the edge into the vast of crazy. I was crazy about him, crazy over him, crazy for him. I would have done anything for him. He knew it. All along, he knew what he was doing.

During one of our deep conversations, he stated he didn't date just to date. He said he dated for marriage. That drew me in for the kill. He knew all the right words to say to get me to fall as deeply as possible. Maybe he didn't always intend to let me fall without him catching me, but I couldn't tell you when the moment he decided to drop me was. It all seemed so real. It was for me.

The moment I told him I loved him, there was no turning back. It was too late and a small part of me knew if and when he left, I would die.

Previous to our relationship, I had suffered greatly from anxiety and depression. I was on medication, but it wasn't really working or enough to keep me from intermittently wanting to die. He didn't know how to handle that.