“David?” he repeated, feigning ignorance. “No, can’t say that I do.”

I nodded slowly, my decision made. “I think I need some air,” I said, standing up. “Excuse me.”

Without waiting for his response, I headed towards the restaurant’s exit, my heart pounding in my chest. The waitress caught my eye as I passed, her expression one of relief and understanding. She had taken a significant risk to warn me, and I was grateful.

Outside, the cool night air hit me, a stark contrast to the warm tension inside. I pulled out my phone, blocking Michael’s number and deleting the dating app. My heart still heavy with the evening’s revelations, I couldn’t help but feel a wave of gratitude towards the stranger who had chosen to intervene.

In the days that followed, I reported the incident to the authorities, providing them with the article and any information I had. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. The experience had been a harsh reminder of the masks people wear and the importance of trusting one’s instincts.

As for Michael—no, David—he disappeared once more, slipping back into the shadows. But I vowed to remain vigilant, not just for myself, but for others who might cross paths with him in the future. The waitress’s courage had saved me, and I hoped to pay it forward, ensuring no one else fell victim to his deceit.