Mishell just stood there, staring at the empty chair Miles left behind.
The café whispered around her — curious looks, silent laughs, pity mixed with mockery.
Her fake confidence cracked like cheap porcelain.
He walked away…
He didn't even look back.
The boy she came with was also gone.
And so was her only chance.
Mishell sank slowly into the chair, palms on her forehead.
"Idiot… idiot… idiot…" she whispered to herself.
She finally understood.
She didn't just embarrass herself.
She threw away a chance that other girls in the city would kill for.
Miles Sterling.
Elegant. Powerful. Calm.
Young, handsome… and richer than more than half the city combined.
And she walked in with some loud-mouthed clown to show off.
What was I thinking?
Her eyes blurred. She laughed at herself — soft, bitter.
"If I had just come alone…" she whispered, voice shaking.
"I could've been the girl next to him… I could've…"
The realization hit hard:
She didn't lose a blind date.
