As I sat at the table, still buzzing with the excitement of our conversation, my phone began vibrating insistently. I hesitated, not wanting to disrupt the magic of the evening, but the relentless buzzing made me curious. Finally, I picked up.

“Hello?” I answered cautiously.A woman’s voice came through, sharp and urgent. “Is this Clara?”

“Yes, who is this?” I asked, confused.“This is Lisa. I don’t know how to say this, but I’m his wife.”

My heart dropped, and my pulse quickened. “W-what? His *wife*?”“Yes, I’ve been tracking him through his phone,” she continued, her voice trembling with anger and sadness. “I knew he was acting strange, so I followed him. I’m outside the restaurant right now.”

The room spun. I glanced toward the restaurant’s large windows, and sure enough, a woman stood there, staring directly at me, her face a mixture of betrayal and fury.Panic set in. I grabbed my bag, threw some cash on the table, and bolted toward the door, my heels clicking loudly against the tiled floor. As I passed by the bar, I caught a glimpse of my “perfect man” leaning casually against the counter, chatting up another woman as if our date had never happened.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. “I had no idea he was married.”
I didn’t stop to confront him. I didn’t have the strength. Outside, Lisa was waiting, her arms crossed and tears brimming in her eyes.
Her expression softened slightly, and she nodded. “It’s not your fault. He’s done this before. I just… I needed to see it for myself.”

We stood there for a moment in awkward silence, two strangers bound by the lies of the same man. Finally, I turned to leave, the adrenaline still coursing through me.

Later that night, as I sat on my couch replaying the evening, I felt a strange mix of emotions. Anger, disgust, and disappointment swirled in my chest, but there was also a flicker of relief.I’d dodged a bullet. The man who seemed too good to be true *was*.

From that day on, I made a vow to trust my instincts and prioritize my own happiness. Because no matter how charming someone might seem, nothing is more attractive than honesty—and I deserved nothing less.