Chapter 5: Tinder and Regret

I met Derek through a dating app.

At the time, I’d just been dumped by Chris, feeling hopeless and wanting to find a man to get back at him.

I flirted online for a while, but only agreed to meet Derek in person.

We met downstairs from my apartment. The man in front of me was six feet tall, good-looking, didn’t seem to have any bad habits.

"Are you a county clerk?"

"Mm."

Back then, Derek didn’t talk much.

"Do you have a medical report?"

He was surprised, but still handed me his phone.

No red flags—healthy, clean bill of health, nothing scary in his medical app.

I handed the phone back.

"Very good. You’re safe. Let’s go."

I nervously reached out to touch his hand.

My palm was sweaty, and his hand was cool—steady, unmoved. I snapped a photo of him from an angle he didn’t notice and sent it to Chris.

That night, I felt like I was committing a crime for the first time.

The city lights glowed outside my window, headlights drifting across the ceiling as I sat beside a man who barely knew me. Yeah, it was not harmonious at all.

I even had to imagine his face as Chris’s just to be able to kiss him.

I had to kiss him, or it felt like I was just hiring a gigolo.

Afterwards, this man actually said to me, very seriously, "I’ll take responsibility for you."

He sat on the edge of the bed, back straight, like he’d rehearsed the line in front of a mirror. I looked at him, baffled.

Working for the county must really instill a sense of responsibility.

"But there’s no need. Let’s part on good terms. I wish you a promotion to mayor, may you get rich and never get caught."

Under his confused gaze, I pretended to button up calmly, though my heart was pounding.

Just as I was about to leave, my phone chimed.

Chris replied to the photo with no emotion, and sent me a digital wedding invitation.

In that instant, all my indifference crumbled.

I steadied my shaky body, childish thoughts flooding my head, and looked back at the man quietly putting on his underwear.

"Derek, right? If you want to take responsibility, marry me."

My voice shook, half daring him to call my bluff, half hoping he’d say yes.

"If you refuse, I’ll go to your workplace and make a scene."

The threat hung in the air, half a joke, half a desperate plea. Even now, I wonder if I meant it.