The Blind Date

Melissa’s POV

SIX YEARS LATER

************

“If you cancel this blind date, I swear to God I am going to be the death of you.”

I stared at the message on my phone as I arrived at the restaurant. The threat, sent by my best friend, Vanessa, was enough to make me sigh in frustration.

Honestly, if it were left to me, I wouldn't even have considered going on a date, let alone a blind one.

Especially not after everything I had been through.

My relationship with my ex-fiancé, Sebastian, had ended so brutally that I had almost lost myself trying to recover from it. Since then, I had made up my mind to focus on my work and my six-year-old son, Ethan.

He is my world after all.

The one person who made everything I had endured feel worth it.

Even my parents, who should have been my greatest source of comfort, had changed towards me after my relationship with Sebastian fell apart.

They blamed me for the messy breakup, especially because I had chosen to put myself first instead of enduring a relationship that was slowly destroying me.

Apparently, choosing my own happiness had made me the villain in their eyes.

But I had paid enough for that decision already.

I had spent years trying to heal, trying to rebuild my confidence, and convincing myself that I was enough, even without a man beside me.

Still, somewhere deep inside, a tiny part of my heart refused to give up completely.

What harm could it do to give love one last chance?

What could possibly go wrong if I allowed myself to be vulnerable again, hoping that this time, things would be different?

Perhaps I am being foolish.

Either way, I am here now.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the restaurant door, only to be stopped by the doorman.

“Good evening, ma'am,” he greeted politely.

“May I know who you have an appointment with?”

“Sure.” I offered him a slight smile before dipping my hand into her handbag and bringing out a business card.

“Mr. Blackson.”

“Alright, ma'am. Please follow me.” He gestured towards the dining area, and I followed him through the beautifully decorated restaurant.

The soft music, elegant lighting, and neatly arranged tables created an atmosphere perfect for a romantic evening.

An atmosphere I hope wouldn't turn into a disaster.

Unfortunately, my hopes began to crumble the moment we arrived at the reserved table.

It was empty.

There was no man waiting, no bouquet of flowers, and certainly no sign that anyone had been expecting me.

I stared at the empty chair opposite me. Then checked the time on my phone.

He was already late.

Of course.

I let out a quiet scoff and pulled out the chair, settling into it.

“Typical male attitude,” I muttered under my breath, bringing out my phone to scroll through my son's pictures.

A smile slowly crept onto her face as I came across a picture of him grinning at the camera, his little front teeth showing.

Thirty minutes had passed.

I locked my phone and placed it on the table.

I wasn't about to waste my entire evening waiting for a man who couldn't even respect my time.

Just as I reached for her handbag, a tall man approached the table.

He was decently dressed, with a handsome face and an expensive-looking watch on his wrist.

His appearance suggested that he was used to getting attention wherever he went.

Unfortunately, his expression was anything but welcoming.

“Miss Melissa?” he asked casually.

I looked up. “Yes. That's me.”

Without another word, the man pulled out the chair and sat down opposite me.

I stared at him, momentarily speechless.

“So…” I tilted my head slightly. “Are you my blind date?”

The man finally turned his attention to me, his brows drawing together as though I had asked him the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Isn't it obvious?”

I blinked. For a second, I wondered whether I had heard him correctly.

Then I let out a small, disbelieving laugh.

“Okay. That's one rude way to answer a simple question.”

“Right. My bad.” He shrugged, showing little sign of remorse. “My day hasn't been that smooth, so I apologize.”

I stared at him calmly.

“My name is Jake,” the man announced, finally extending his hand across the table. “Jake Blackson.”

Before I could respond properly, he turned his head towards a passing waiter.

“Hey! Waiter!” His voice rang through the restaurant, cutting me off mid-introduction.

My mouth fell open slightly.

What a bummer.

I rolled my eyes discreetly, wondering whether Vanessa had secretly arranged this date to punish me for something.

“What was that?” Jake asked, his attention suddenly returning to me.

“Nothing.” I forced another smile, determined not to let my irritation show. “So, what do you do?”

At last, a question that might help me understand him a little.

“Oh, I do a lot of things.” Jake leaned back, looking rather pleased with himself. “I'm one of the upcoming tycoons in New York City. I own several real estate properties and control a number of businesses.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in.

I nodded politely. “That sounds impressive.”

“It is.” He adjusted his cufflinks. “Which is why I need a woman who understands her place in a man's life.”

My smile faltered. “Her place?”

“Yes. I need a woman who is willing to be a full-time housewife. Someone who will stay home, take care of the house, and make sure everything is in order while I handle business and provide everything she needs.”

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

I had expected the usual conversations about careers, hobbies, and personal interests. Perhaps a few questions about my family or what I enjoyed doing in my spare time.

But I hadn't expected a stranger to begin outlining the role he wanted me to play in his life before he had even bothered to learn my full name.

“A housewife?” I repeated.

“Yes.” Jake looked at me as though I was struggling to understand something very simple.

“I'm a wealthy man. I control multimillion-dollar businesses. What else could a woman possibly want when she has a man who can provide everything for her?”

I pressed my lips together.

I tried.

I genuinely tried to hold it in. But the absurdity of his words was too much.

A laugh escaped my lips.

Then another.

Within seconds, I was laughing so hard that several people at nearby tables turned to look at me.

Jake's expression darkened. “What exactly is so funny about what I've said?”

I tried to compose myself, pressing a hand against my mouth. However, the disbelief on my face remained.

“I'm sorry,” I managed, still struggling to suppress my laughter. “I really am. But you cannot be serious.”

“And why wouldn't I be?”

“Because we're living in the twenty-first century, Jake. Women have their own dreams, careers, and ambitions. Not every woman wants to give up everything she has worked for just because a man believes his money should be enough to make all her decisions for her.”

His jaw tightened. “I see. So you're one of those women who think they can have everything.”

“No. I'm one of those women who believe a relationship should be equal.”

“That's easy to say when you have something to offer.”

My smile slowly disappeared. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jake leaned forward, his eyes travelling over my face with an unpleasant expression. “Let's be honest, Melissa. A woman like you shouldn't be so picky when it comes to choosing a man.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the table. “A woman like me?”

“Yes.” He gave a dismissive shrug. “You're thirty-one, aren't you? You have a child out of wedlock, and from what I've heard, you called off your own wedding. So tell me, what exactly gives you the right to be so selective about the man you want?”

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

The words struck a place inside me that I had spent years trying to protect.

I had worked so hard to move past the shame people tried to attach to my past. I had taught myself not to care about the whispers, the judgmental looks, or the cruel assumptions people made whenever they heard my story.

I had convinced myself that I was strong enough to face anything.

Yet hearing those words from a man I had met less than an hour ago made me feel as though all my efforts had been for nothing.

What gives me the right?

I drew in a slow breath, straightened my shoulders, and looked him directly in the eyes.

“Listen, Jake. I agreed to come here because I genuinely believed I could give love another chance. I thought perhaps there was still a possibility of meeting someone who understood that relationships were about respect, understanding, and mutual support.”

I paused, my voice growing firmer.

“But watching you belittle women and judge me for my past has completely changed my mind. I have no interest in being with a man who thinks his money gives him the right to dictate another person's life.”

Jake let out a scornful laugh. “Changed your mind? Woman, don't flatter yourself.”

My expression remained calm, though my heart was beating faster. “I'm not flattering myself. I'm simply telling you that we're not compatible.”

“Compatible?” He scoffed. “You should be grateful a man like me even agreed to meet you.”

I stared at him, almost impressed by his ability to make himself sound worse with every passing second.

Then Jake leaned closer, lowering his voice.

“Face it, Melissa. At your age, with a child and a failed engagement behind you, you should be grateful for whatever man is willing to take you. Women like you don't exactly have endless options.”

The words cut deep, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I gave him a small, humourless smile.

“Then it's a good thing I would rather remain single than settle for a man like you.”

His face twisted with anger. “You know what?

You'll probably die as a single mother. That's if death even wants you. Maybe it will take that bastard child of yours instead.”

At that moment, everything inside me went still. For a second, the noise of the restaurant seemed to disappear.

All I could hear were his words about my son.

Jake had dragged my child into a conversation that had nothing to do with him, and something inside me snapped.

“Enough!”

My voice rang through the restaurant, making several diners turn in their seats.

I rose from the chair, my eyes blazing.

“I have tolerated your insults from the moment you sat down at this table. I have listened to you talk about women as though they exist only to serve you. I have allowed you to make assumptions about my life without responding the way you deserve.”

I took a step closer, my voice trembling slightly with anger.

“But do not mistake my restraint for weakness. And do not ever use that filthy mouth of yours to speak about my son again.”

Jake stared at me, clearly unaccustomed to being challenged. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to?”

“Someone who should have walked away from you the moment you opened your mouth.” I grabbed my handbag from the chair. “Not that you're worth another second of my time anyway.”

“You bitch!” Jake shot to his feet so abruptly that his chair scraped loudly against the floor.

“When you learn how to treat a woman with respect, perhaps someone will be willing to settle down with you. Until then, keep your money and your ridiculous expectations to yourself.”

With that, I turned and walked away.

I could feel the stares following me, but I didn't care. My hands were trembling, and I needed to get out of the restaurant before my anger gave way to the humiliation I had been fighting so hard to contain.

I stepped slowly, sighing at two couples entering the restaurant.

For a moment, I could only stare.

Then, I felt my stomach twisted.

Of all the restaurants in New York City, of all the places I could have chosen to spend this miserable evening, I had somehow ended up walking straight into my two worst nightmares.

God, can this night get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

I drew in a slow breath and forced myself to stand tall.

“Well, well, well.” Stephanie lips curved into a mocking smile as she looked at me up and down. “If it isn't the almighty, do-no-wrong, holier-than-thou Mariah.”

My brows drew together.

Mariah?

The name irritated me, but I wasn't about to waste my breath correcting Stephanie's deliberate mockery.

“What do you want now, Stephanie?” I asked, keeping my voice firm.

Stephanie laughed softly, folding her arms across her chest. “Oh, nothing. I'm just surprised to see you here.”

Before I could respond, Sebastian stepped forward.

“Melissa,” he said, his gaze moving over my face before briefly dropping to the handbag in my hand. “You're on a date?”

I said nothing.

He let out a short laugh. “Honestly, I would have thought you were already messing around with all kinds of men. After all, you disappeared for years and came back with a son.”

The words were spoken casually, but their cruelty was unmistakable. I felt my fingers curl around the strap of my handbag.

Stephanie burst into mocking laughter.

“Well, you can't really blame her, can you?” she said, glancing at Sebastian with a knowing smile. “Perhaps she's trying to find someone willing to take responsibility for her and her little secret.”

My jaw tightened.

People were beginning to turn towards them.

I could hear the whispers, the quiet comments, and the occasional laugh from nearby tables. The attention made my skin prickle, but I refused to lower my head.

I had endured worse than this.

I would survive this, too.

“If you two would excuse me, I have far more important things to attend to,” I said, moving to walk past them.

But before I could get far, Stephanie stepped into my path and shoved me lightly by the chest.

I stumbled half a step backwards, my eyes widening in disbelief.

“Where do you think you're going?” Stephanie demanded.

I steadied myself and stared at her. “Move.”

“Not so fast.” Stephanie stepped closer, her expression hardening as she leaned towards my ear.

Then she whispered, slowly and deliberately, as though she had been waiting for the perfect moment to deliver the words.

“Don't you want to hear how loudly I moan when he fucks me every night in your supposed matrimonial bed?”