EVE’S APPLE
I didn’t text him immediately.
I waited three days. On purpose, I didn’t want to seem desperate.
“Hi,” I finally sent, watching the screen like it owed me something.
A few seconds later, his reply came in:
“Hello, who is this please?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Eve. The girl from Agatha’s bar.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry, beautiful. How have you been?”
And just like that, the conversation picked up. Effortless. Smooth. He was funny. Flirty. The kind of charming that made you feel special just through text. I found myself looking forward to his texts, rereading his compliments, smiling like a fool in the dark.