He looked like a dad. I mean, he WAS a dad, but he definitely looked it. Overweight and balding with jokes for days. It was like he could anticipate my moves, always ensuring he was available for questions and help at work. Initially, I thought it was because I was new, till one random Friday, when he referred to me as his “enigma”. Back then this seemed like the greatest compliment I could get. Looking up the definition in the dictionary, I felt so special, so mysterious.
It wasn’t just that though. He wasn’t known for giving women attention, having been burned a few times before. So there was reassurance in knowing I wasn’t just another piece of workplace ass. His convo segways kept me interested. Moving between discussion around serial killers to brutal historic events, two of my personal favorites. About 3 days into meeting, he invited me to a dinosaur exhibit in Tacoma. Immediately I agreed, not knowing at the time that this would be one of the worst decisions I could possibly make. But we’ll come back to that.
The Dino “date” went well, or as well as a first date involving his child could go. I put date in quotations because, at the time, my dumbass had yet to realize it was a legit date. As if the signs weren’t there. He looked at me like I was magic and wasted no time in asking me to hang out again. Again meaning that same evening. Being the gentleman he was, he paid for and planned everything. Which, on this particular occasion, consisted of arcade games, chicken strips and drinks. Lots of drinks.
Before I knew it air hockey had turned to making out and making out had turned to stumbling out of the arcade. Next thing I remember, we were at his place. A dope little studio that happened to overlook Tacoma and the sound. So with the blinds open and the city lights fully ablaze, he took me. The sex wasn’t terrible, but I feel strongly this conclusion was based on the amount of liquor and lack of experience I had. It’s amazing what a few years and a variety pack of new dicks will do. But that’s off topic.
We were as lit as a menorah on the seventh day of Hanukkah and it showed in our sex. I was probably the most exciting person he had fucked in years so he made the most of it. Tying me up with his tie, fucking me against the window and in the shower. It was hours before we dropped and when we did, everything in his eyes screamed “I'm going to fall in love with you.” Yikes.
When everything rapidly began spiraling into a pseudo “relationship, I didn’t object. But that didn’t mean he could call me “girlfriend” just yet either. It was a title I considered to have some weight with it. My first, and only relationship being 4+ years. This was all new to me. First time talking to an “older” dude, first time dating someone with a child. Everyone we knew mutually supported it. Constantly joking about how they’d never seen him so happy, so overwhelmingly considerate.
A few months went by, as did Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years, but I still wasn’t sold. Despite the frequent date nights, cooked meals, attention, etc.
Something felt off.
To be continued..