Diana
The next day, I find myself in a daze. As I go about my work at the diner, I make mistakes I've never made before - mistakes that would have been unthinkable during my time serving in the pack. My mind feels foggy, unable to focus on even the simplest tasks.
After the third mix-up of the day - confusing a customer's order of pancakes for waffles - I approach Ellen, ready to apologize profusely. To my surprise, she doesn't seem angry. Instead, she gives me a knowing smirk.
"I'm so sorry, Ellen," I begin, wringing my hands nervously. "I don't know what's wrong with me today. I promise it won't happen again."
Ellen's smirk widens. "Oh, honey," she says, her voice tinged with amusement, "I know exactly what's wrong with you. You've got that look about you."
I blink, confused. "What look?"
"That look that speaks of a man," she replies, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, “So I’m guessing the date went well then”.
Heat rushes to my face. "What? No! There's no... I mean, it's not like
