We Never Loved, But We Rescued Each Other
When a blind date set up by his mother goes hilariously wrong, a 32-year-old tech lead finds an unlikely connection with a woman from a very different walk of life. This story explores the blurred lines between blind dates, professional escorts, and the genuine human need for understanding and salvation in a world obsessed with appearances.
We Never Loved, But We Rescued Each Other
My mom set me up on a blind date.
She said the girl was absolutely gorgeous and loved traveling, told me to add her on WhatsApp first to chat.
I look at my naked self, put on my pink underwear, feeling embarrassed.
"Yesterday, what did we do?"
"Nothing much. You stripped me completely naked and held me while sleeping soundly."
"That's good then."
"Pfft!" She laughs.
"What are you worried about? It's not like your mom said I'd make you take responsibility."
"I don't know either."
Sitting on the bedside, I pull a cigarette from her pack and light it.
Take a puff, choke terribly, quickly put it out.
"Don't light cigarettes if you can't smoke."
"I just wanted to try."
She's still not dressed, hugging me from behind, touching my chest: "Want to try something else?"
I turn around, seriously examining this reasonably pretty face and the slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.
No male reaction whatsoever.
Like I've walked through countless flower gardens and just want to find a clean, airy place to lie down for a while.
"In your line of work, what do you do when you meet clients you don't like?"
"Just pretend you're a dog, close your eyes, don't think about anything. If you must think, think about money."
I nod, feeling she speaks truthfully.
"What if you meet someone you actually like?"
She hesitates for a moment.
"Basically never meet someone you like. If you really did, you'd want to do something with him, but it would just stay at wanting to do something. I know I'm not good enough for him."
Getting dressed and washing up, I wave goodbye before leaving.
"See you later."
She looks a bit dazed, not knowing what she's thinking.
Doesn't respond, just nods.
One "see you later" - never to see each other again.
1
My name is Logan, 32 years old, Ivy League graduate with a Master's degree, working as a senior tech lead at an IT company.
I'm 5'10", 165 lbs, decent-looking, earning $120k+ annually.
I own a house (with a mortgage), a car (paid off), and have $200k in savings.
Lifelong single, virgin, non-smoker, occasional social drinker with no bad habits.
With these credentials, I wouldn't say I'm exceptional, but I'm not terrible either.
Is it too much to ask to naturally attract someone and have a genuine relationship?
Why do all my aunts and family friends feel the need to set me up on blind dates?
It's like I'm some animal in heat - once mating season ends, I'll become a monk and never think about romance again.
Every time I come home, before I can finish my last bite of dinner,
Mom snatches my bowl away and shoos Dad to do the dishes.
She puts on her thick reading glasses and starts showing me her phone.
"Come on, the ladies have been sending me photos of so many girls lately. They all have great qualifications. Take a look, see if any catch your eye."
"Mom, I don't want to go on blind dates."
I try to get up and leave, but she yanks me back down.
"What's wrong with just looking? You spend all day scrolling through your phone watching pretty girls dance, but when it comes to something serious, you chicken out?"
"When do I ever watch girls dancing?"
"Stop giving me excuses. Just look. You're over thirty - time to think about serious matters."
"I'm busy with work, I really don't have time for dating."
"What, did you sell yourself to your company? Is your office a monastery? Do they pay bachelors double bonuses? Or do you have... orientation issues?"
Just from this conversation, sweat beads are forming on my forehead.
"Mom, can you please act normal?"
"I'm telling you, if you like men, just tell me early. Your dad and I are open-minded - I'll find you some handsome guys."
"I was wrong, I'll look, okay? I'll look!"
I randomly flip through her photo album.
"Done looking, none caught my eye."
"Oh wait, there's one more! The lady from the next building, Mrs. Wang, introduced this one. The girl is absolutely beautiful.
"Tall, fair-skinned, healthy hobbies - loves traveling. Let me share her contact with you."
I shake my head, sigh, and feel helpless.
With a "ding" from WhatsApp,
the girl's profile appears on screen.
Kimberly♥ (Available Nationwide).
2
I look at the profile first, then at my mom, momentarily unable to tell if she's really on my side.
"Mom, we're not compatible."
"Look here, she says the profile photo is really her. Click to see more."
Um, with my mom watching, I clicked.
Bikini pool photo.
She's in a bikini, just emerged from a swimming pool, wearing big sunglasses - looks like a professional photoshoot.
I breathe a sigh of relief - at least the important parts are covered.
Her legs are really pale though.
"How about it? Beautiful, right?"
"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. Mom, I'm not good enough for her. Let's forget it."
Mom slams her phone down: "You little brat, look at young Liu downstairs - his kids are running around everywhere. How many unmarried guys are left in our neighborhood?
"While your dad and I are still young enough to help with grandchildren, when we get old, what happens when your kids are running around making messes?"
Slumps in chair, rolls her eyes, looking completely defeated.
I don't interrupt Mom's complaints - this is her standard routine. She won't stop until she finishes.
If interrupted, she starts over from the beginning.
"Look how old you are, why don't you know how to care about your parents? We're working ourselves to death, and for whom..."
Here comes her ultimate move - she starts tearing up.
"Fine, fine, fine. I was wrong. I'll add her, okay?"
My thumb trembles for ages, but I can't bring myself to press send.
"Mom, what should I put as a note?"
"Just put 'mutual friend introduction.'"
3
I'm not kidding - when those four words came out, my face turned green.
"Ugh, you're so slow. Let me add her for you." She snatches the phone away.
I think about grabbing it back, then decide to let it go.
Let her face this awkward situation alone.
"Ding."
"Ding."
"Ding ding."
"She accepted?"
Mom frowns and nods.
"What did she say?"
"The girl asked you out for dinner."
"Dinner?" I don't believe it. I get up and grab the phone. On the screen, in big bright letters:
【Quick service $200, full package $800.】
"This is dinner? She's cutting straight to the chase."
"What's wrong with dinner? This girl is so straightforward - if she likes you, she'll date you; if not, she'll move on to the next. What's wrong with cutting to the chase? Saves time." Mom grins from ear to ear.
"Mom, I think we're talking about different kinds of 'main course.'"
"Just tell her you'll take the quick service - $800 for the full package is too expensive. I don't know what her financial situation is, spending that much on one meal."
"Looking at these prices, she definitely makes more than me." I smack my lips. "Mom, maybe we should forget it. Even $200 is expensive."
"Expensive? You have the money. If you don't, I'll pay for it."
"This... doesn't seem appropriate."
"What's inappropriate about it?" Dad comes over after finishing the dishes.
"Mrs. Wang from the next building introduced a girl. She's beautiful, but dinner costs $200. Your son is being cheap."
Is this really about money?
"Let me see." Dad also puts on the same style reading glasses as Mom and clicks on the profile photo.
Gets dazzled by the pale white thighs.
"Wow, is this a decent..." Before he can finish, Mom glares him into silence.
"Is this a decent phone? Why is it so heavy?"
"Old Logan, are you done talking? It's an $2000 phone, I just bought it."
Dad is more open-minded than Mom - we often joke around together.
"Alright, son, I think it's good."
"If you think it's good, you go to dinner."
"What's wrong with me going? It's just $200. When I was young, I liked girls like this - your mom was like this when she was young."
I'm drinking water and spray it three feet away.
"Dad, you can't say things like that."
"What do you mean I can't say it? How is this girl not good enough for you? You should be grateful to find someone like this."
"To be honest, if I really wanted to, I could find a whole room full."
"You're just bragging. Find some and let me see."
"Fine, I'll really find some. Don't regret it when I do."
4
In the end, I didn't dare find a whole room full of escort girls.
First, I care about my reputation. Second, I care about my life.
But Mom wasn't letting me off the hook - she forced me to meet this Kimberly.
I thought about telling them the truth - that she's a professional.
But they wouldn't believe it. Not only wouldn't they believe it, they'd say I was slandering an innocent girl.
They'd call me a beast who'd say anything to avoid blind dates.
I have experience with these situations.
Under the watchful eyes of four eyes,
I sent the girl two words:
【Hello.】
She replied with an emoji: 【Cuddles.】
【Meet tomorrow?】
【Tomorrow's fully booked. Day after?】
"See how popular this girl is? You should treasure her - her schedule is completely full." "Oh my, Mom, please stop. I feel like my brain is full of tap water and bacteria just thinking about doing this."
"Stop talking nonsense!"
【Okay, day after tomorrow.】
【Afternoon? Evening?】
【Afternoon.】
【2 PM?】
【Sure.】
【Send me the location.】
I scratch my head, thinking about where to meet her.
"There's a hot pot chicken place downstairs. Good food, cheap prices. Go there."
"Huh?" Now I'm starting to suspect Mom is doing this on purpose. She's in that line of work, and you want to meet at a restaurant called hot pot chicken? Is that polite?
"What 'huh'? That restaurant isn't small, just renovated, very pretty, perfect for dates."
"Fine, I'm going all in. I'll listen to you."
【Riverside District, Maple Street, Come Again Hot Pot Chicken.】
【??????????????????????????????????????????】
Man, the screen is full of question marks.
I get smacked on the back of the head - it's Mom.
"Look how confused you made the girl. Send her the address properly - how is she supposed to find it with just a name?"
Actually, psychologically, I understand the girl.
Her profession might be illegal, but she's still a human being.
You have to treat her like a human being.
Even murderers don't get treated this cruelly.
But I have to say, this girl is expensive for a reason - even in this situation, she didn't lose her temper or send angry voice messages.
I quickly explain:
"Let's have dinner first, then discuss other things."
"You're quite amusing. Overall time stays the same though - overtime costs extra."
Mom can't understand this sentence.
She frowns, thinking it over for a long time.
"What does 'overtime costs extra' mean?"
I'm about to explain when Dad chimes in: "Lawyer, right? Lawyers all charge by the hour. Professional habit. Must be a lawyer - what a great profession."
I look at Dad like he's my idol: "Aren't there other professions that charge by the hour?"
"Yes, parking lot attendants."
"What else?"
"Cleaning lady by the hour."
"Name another."
"Tutors."
Three black lines appear on my forehead.
"Dad, have you been looking at my computer?"
5
Two days pass in a flash.
Mom gets up early to go shopping and comes back with new clothes.
"What's this for?"
"I'm going with you."
"Mom, you're not serious, are you?"
"What's wrong with me coming along to see what it's like?"
"Honestly, this is my first time seeing this kind of 'scene' too. In the entire country, bringing your mom to see this kind of scene would be quite explosive."
"I won't interfere with you. Do whatever you need to do."
"If you come, I can't do anything."
"I'll just sit at the next table and watch. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried about jack."
I can't argue with her. At 1:30, she reserves two tables at the hot pot place downstairs - mine by the window, hers at the adjacent table.
2 PM, right on time.
A woman in black stockings enters the restaurant.
I awkwardly wave, and she confidently takes a seat.
The situation becomes extremely awkward.
"Want to order anything else?"
She takes off her sunglasses and studies me seriously for a minute: "You're really something."
I don't know if she's complimenting or insulting me, but it's probably more of an insult.
"Quick service $200, 40 minutes. Transfer the money first."
Without a word, I pull out my phone and transfer the money.
"I've seen your type before - always wanting to try something thrilling."
"Huh?" I'm a bit surprised. "Eating dinner is thrilling?"
She leans closer, very close, her perfume going straight to my nose: "Tell me, where do you want to do it later? Kitchen? Bathroom? The dining room won't work - too risky, might get caught."
"The setting can be this elaborate?"
"It can, but costs extra."
"How much extra?" I slap my forehead - this woman got me twisted around. "No, we're just having dinner."
"Just dinner?"
"Make way, make way, chicken coming through!" The owner personally brings the food to show respect, and gives me a knowing look after serving.
Normal interpretation: this look means the blind date is going well.
In her eyes, it's not the same thing - her pretty face alternates between red and pale.
"Are you sick?"
"Hey, let me explain."
After explaining the whole situation, she laughs so hard her chest shakes.
"This is all your fault. Blind dates are fine, but why use your work number?"
She quickly waves her hands: "I swear I never intended to go on a blind date. Maybe one of my clients sent Mrs. Wang my contact by mistake."
"Alright, let's just eat."
Through our conversation, I learn about the girl.
Her name is Kimberly Xu, same city as me, 24 years old. I don't ask about other things.
We chat about random gossip to pass the time.
40 minutes - just enough time for a meal.
I glance at the next table - Mom looks absolutely delighted.
A ridiculous thought pops up, and like a brain fart, I ask Kimberly: "Um, next time my mom pressures me about marriage, can I call you again? We can negotiate the price."
6
Overall, Mom is quite satisfied with this blind date.
I'm okay with it too, just feel like that $200 died a tragic death.
Mom calms down for a while and stops mentioning blind dates, but keeps asking about my progress with Kimberly.
Like she's already decided on this daughter-in-law.
"How are things with Kimberly? Haven't seen you two go out since that dinner."
"Company's been busy lately, too much work."
"Being busy is no excuse for neglecting the girl. If you're dating, do it properly."
"She's busier than me."
"This won't work - you're both so busy, when will you bring her home?"
Bring her home? If I marry someone in her profession, that would be like - planting grass on the prairie, painting watermelon rinds green, covering turtle shells with leaves, getting new uniforms for the post office.
Am I looking for more... excitement in my life?
"Ask her when she's free to come home for dinner."
"What?"
"What do you mean 'what'? What's wrong with dinner? Or did you two break up? Are you fighting?"
Mom throws down her phone: "Let me tell you, you're the man. When there are conflicts, you need to accommodate the woman. Look at you, a grown man..."
"Okay, grandma, stop chanting spells. She'll come, definitely come for dinner."
Saying yes in the moment feels great, but how do I explain this to her?
Last time I laid the groundwork with that one sentence, but I can't force her to come if she doesn't want to, right?
Gathering courage, I send her a message.
【When are you free to come to my place for dinner?】
【What do you take me for?】
This sentence from her, in this context, feels wrong somehow.
【Just simple dinner.】
【Dude, I'm an escort. Find someone else to chase.】
I quickly glance around - thank god Mom and Dad didn't see. I hurriedly delete it.
【I'll pay.】
【How much?】
【You decide.】
【How long is dinner?】
【Um, two hours?】
【$800.】
【Deal.】
We set the time, I gave the location, transferred the money.
My heart feels empty.
My money, though it didn't come from thin air, is definitely being blown away by the wind.
What wind? My family's strict moral standards.
7
I don't give her my home address directly - I meet her at a mall near my house.
After meeting, I give her detailed instructions not to let anything slip.
If Mom asks, just say we're dating now, nothing else. Eat more, talk less, let me handle everything.
Half an hour later, I take her hand and enter my home.
Mom and Dad are very enthusiastic, constantly asking her to sit down, filling a coffee table with snacks and fruit.
"Let me introduce you. This is my mom - you two should have met, don't know if you remember."
Mom glares at me.
"Hello, Auntie."
"This is my dad. When he was young, he liked girls like you. Says he'd like to exchange experiences with you when there's time."
Kimberly's eye twitches, asking me with her expression: "Seriously?"
"Don't listen to this brat's nonsense. Come, have some fruit."
Four people in the room, all sitting down. Nobody knows where to start the conversation, and the atmosphere becomes a bit awkward.
Dad, that old guy, knows how to find topics.
"Girl, what do you do for work? I heard from Logan that you charge by the hour."
Kimberly has a chicken foot in her mouth, chewing enthusiastically - can't spit it out, can't swallow it.
I quickly answer: "Lawyer."
Dad laughs: "See, I said she was a lawyer."
"I heard lawyers make good money. How do you charge?" Mom starts gossiping again.
"Um... um... 40 minutes, $200."
"That's definitely good money."
We eat a bland meal. Kimberly tugs my sleeve - I know she has other clients.
I quickly stand: "Mom, she needs to meet a client later. I'll take her back."
"Good, good, don't delay her work. Hurry and take her."
Downstairs, both Kimberly and I feel like we've escaped from hell.
"Want me to drive you?"
She checks her watch: "Sure, this ran overtime, but since you're a regular customer, no extra charge."
Driving, we don't talk much.
At a hotel entrance, as Kimberly gets out, a somewhat sleazy-looking man happens to see us.
He waves at Kimberly.
"Wow, you're really something - seamless transitions."
She's not angry, flirting back: "Well look at that, he lasts way longer than you!"
The man gets interested, turns to look at me: "Bro, how long do you go?"
"Ah, what? Two hours, a bit more."
After I say it, I realize I misunderstood what he was asking.
Maybe I hurt his pride - he stops talking to me and walks into the hotel with Kimberly.
Walking and muttering under his breath: "Men lasting 5 minutes is normal. Someone going two hours either took pills or has problems."
Damn you...
8
Monday, company meeting.
As a senior tech lead, I'm babbling about our product's grand advantages.
Below sit my boss and various client representatives.
Halfway through my PowerPoint, I'm practically spitting from talking so much. The clients are nodding approvingly.
I take a sip of water, ready to continue.
Three messages pop up on my computer's messaging app.
Kimberly♥ (Available Nationwide): 【Your mom added me on WhatsApp.】
Kimberly♥ (Available Nationwide): 【What should I do?】
Kimberly♥ (Available Nationwide): 【Should I accept? How much do I charge?】
I spray a mouthful of tea all over the client representative's shiny bald head.
My boss's face turns green: "Damn it, don't you know to close your messaging app when screen sharing?"
The client is good-natured, grabs the boss's jacket to wipe his head, looking at me with a smile.
"Young man plays it pretty wild, even involving his mother?"
"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding."
I frantically close the messaging app and stumble through the rest of the presentation.
I know this deal is dead, and so is my year-end bonus.
No, forget the bonus - whether I keep my job depends on my luck.
After the meeting, female colleagues cover their mouths giggling when they see me, eyes darting around.
Male colleagues pat my shoulders hard without saying anything, with "I understand you" expressions and sighs.
You understand jack!
I'm truly innocent.
The boss returns after seeing off the clients, and a roar echoes through the sky.
"Logan, get your ass in here!"
9
The boss holds his forehead with his right hand, pinching a cigarette with his left, not taking a single puff for a long time.
"Boss, I..."
I'm about to admit my mistake when the boss starts talking.
"Logan, you usually seem so steady and reliable. When did you become like this?"
"I'm sorry."
"You should know you're in tech - you should focus on the product, not these shady side paths."
"You're absolutely right."
"You know the company is struggling. This deal is important - if we lose it, the company might not survive until year-end."
"Yes, I know. I'll take full responsibility..."
"Sigh, 30% bonus increase this year. The company can't afford more."
"Right, right, I'll... increase?"
The boss flicks his cigarette ash.
"Yes, the client just signed the contract."
"Huh?"
"What 'huh'? Don't you have any shame? Didn't you investigate the client's preferences beforehand and deliberately have someone send you those messages during the meeting, letting the client see that we have these resources?
"I'm not criticizing you, but next time you know this kind of intelligence, tell the marketing department. They'll arrange it, or you can go directly to PR.
"You're in tech after all - what does it look like to colleagues? Of course, I understand you meant well for the company, but next time at least give me a heads up.
"But one thing - you need to see this through. Tonight, you bring people to accompany the clients. However much you spend upfront, I'll reimburse you."
Back at my workstation, I also hold my forehead with one hand.
What the hell - plot twist? From despair to joy? Dark clouds parting for sunshine?
"Ding."
【Are you reliable or not? Do I add your mom on WhatsApp or not!】
【Don't worry about my crazy mom for now. Are you free tonight? I have business for you - big deal.】
10
Honestly, without Kimberly, I wouldn't know how to arrange this.
There's too much to consider here.
Six clients total.
If I arranged it myself, I'd just get six girls and call it done.
Kimberly brought fifteen people.
Her reasoning: in this kind of situation, whether I want to do anything or not, everyone needs someone beside them, otherwise I'd look like an undercover cop, and the bosses wouldn't relax.
I figured seven girls would be enough.
But I was being naive.
The five clients definitely don't have the same status and position.
Shouldn't the main one have more people around him?
Plus, everyone has different tastes. What if we bring specific girls and nobody likes any particular one?
Leave that person alone? Make him watch? Make him suffer?
Better to have too many than too few.
Bring over a dozen, have them line up - looks impressive.
Let the boss choose first - two, three, doesn't matter.
Girls who aren't chosen sit around, livening up the atmosphere.
When the boss wants to take someone away, however many people, I don't need to worry. She'll tell me the total price, I just pay.
I give her a big thumbs up: "Awesome, professional."
Found a private club - also Kimberly's recommendation.
Everyone sits down, girls file in, bowing and greeting with sweet smiles.
That scene was pretty stunning.
The clients are polite at first: "Oh my, Logan, you shouldn't have done this."
"Right, right, we just came out for simple chat. Look what you've done."
Then they stop being polite, cuddling with girls they fancy, having a blast.
I'm more miserable, going around pouring drinks and toasting like a servant.
Thinking to myself, PR work really isn't easy.
When everyone gets into the rhythm, I lean back on the sofa, exhausted and sweating.
Kimberly sits beside me, looking at me teasingly.
"Don't come here often, do you?"
"Damn, first time."
"Can't tell - you're actually a good man."
I clap my hands and chug some beer: "Not really."
"What are your plans later?"
I slap my forehead, almost forgot something: "Oh right, can you guys issue receipts in your line of work?"
11
"Is your brain full of shit?"
If you can't, just say you can't - why curse at me?
Without receipts, how do I get reimbursed?
Kimberly puts her arm around my neck, I put mine around her waist, listening to the main client boss singing "Borrow Another 500 Years from Heaven."
"I have something to say, don't know if I should."
Kimberly rolls her eyes: "Then don't say it."
"Okay, I'll say it directly then."
"Damn."
"Looking at how pretty you are with such a good personality, why do you do this work?"
"What? Men's disease acting up again?"
"What disease?"
"Forcing good women into prostitution, convincing prostitutes to go straight."
"No, I'm just asking."
"What else could it be for? Money. Not like it's for world peace."
"Why not find legitimate work?"
"If I could find it, who would do this?"
"You're so pretty, shouldn't be a problem."
"You loser think pretty women easily make money? There are tons of pretty women, but only so many rich men."
She doesn't want to continue this topic, drinking by herself without responding to me.
Maybe thinking of something fun.
She brings her lips to my ear, gently licking my earlobe.
"Later, want to find a place together? You already paid anyway."
Damn, she has a point.
I already paid, who knows how much Kimberly takes as commission.
Even if she doesn't take commission, she still needs her own fee, right?
Plus the first $200, and that $800 - having done nothing seems like a huge loss.
Once this thought appears, it won't go away.
This evil source of corruption with public funds keeps swaying her body, tempting inexperienced me.
I grab her hand and kiss her hard on the face.
"Wait till I finish serving these daddies."
12
When the clients each find their places, it's already past 2 AM.
I also take Kimberly's hand and get a room.
Then I don't know what to do.
This is a necessary psychological journey for all rookies.
Do we go straight to it? Chat first? Have heart-to-heart talks?
Don't know, never seen it before.
Fortunately, Kimberly is professional: "You shower first, me first, or together?"
First time - no way I'm brave enough for a couples' bath.
"You first."
Water flowing, the bathroom's frosted glass shows a graceful silhouette.
Dim wall lights make the whole room feel especially intimate.
I'm a bit nervous, randomly opening and closing apps on my phone.
She comes out wrapped in a towel, loose and suggestive.
"I'm done, your turn."
In the bathroom, my head is foggy, don't even know what I'm scrubbing.
Don't know how much time passes.
A voice comes from outside: "Video call, it's your mom."
I also wrap myself in a towel and take the phone, wanting to hang up. My hands are too wet, I slip, and accidentally answer.
13
"Where are you? I called you so many times and you didn't answer. If something happens, can't you tell us in advance? Do you know how worried we are?
"Where are you? Why is the room so dark? Turn on the lights. You're such a worry, you should get married early so someone can take care of you."
"Oh Mom, I..."
First time wrapping a towel, no experience - the towel slips.
Kimberly's expression is quite something - don't know what she saw.
I grab for the towel with my left hand, miss it. My right hand still has the phone and it flies away too.
Grab the phone with my right hand, only catch the edge, and it flies even further.
Flies straight to Kimberly's head, she cries out in pain.
"Ouch."
The phone lands on the bed, camera pointing straight at Kimberly's face.
She blushes...
Frantically grabs the phone to hand it to me, sees I'm naked, and randomly points it at herself.
In the camera flipping, who knows what Mom saw.
"Auntie... Logan is with me."
"Ah... haha... with Kimberly! Then I'm relieved. Well, I don't have anything important. You two have fun. This is a hotel, right? Have fun, I'm fine."
Finally get the towel sorted and take the phone.
"I'm telling you, this girl is a good girl. You better take responsibility."
"Good, good, good, I'll take responsibility."
Want to say more, but she hangs up decisively - more decisive than my boss rejecting proposals.
I can only mutter to myself: "Take responsibility my ass."
Kimberly and I stare at each other.
The carefully built atmosphere and mental preparation - all gone.
"So, do we still do it?" Kimberly probably never encountered this situation before either.
Being caught by a client's wife is common, but being caught by a client's mom is probably a first.
"Forget it, totally killed the mood."
"We could build it up again."
"Can't, damn, my mind is chaos."
14
In the end, we didn't do anything. I held her and slept through the night.
She must have been tired too - fell asleep quickly, snoring softly, sleeping soundly.
I couldn't close my eyes all night.
Want to do something, but Mom's demonic voice fills my head. Don't want to do anything, but holding this beautiful body is quite disturbing.
When the alarm rings, I get up with dark circles under my eyes.
Getting up, I'm confused - what was I supposed to do again?
Kimberly looks at my face, shocked: "Did a ghost strangle you yesterday?"
I don't speak, no mood.
At the company, when the boss sees me, his right hand trembles.
"Logan, you don't usually accompany clients, I understand you couldn't control yourself, but health is important. You can't do this - I'm afraid you'll die suddenly at the company."
"Didn't do anything."
"Didn't do anything? Look in the mirror. I thought you slept with a Komodo dragon last night."
15
The next time I see Kimberly, it's another hazy morning.
Groggily, she's sleeping naked beside me.
I slap my head hard.
I remember yesterday I was in a bad mood - the company product had problems, stress was high.
Mom and Dad took turns asking about my relationship progress with Kimberly, the same old routine, driving me crazy.
I went to a bar alone.
Don't know how much I drank - when I regained consciousness, it was like this.
"How did you get here?"
"How did I get here? You called me yesterday!"
I look
16
From then on, I never saw Kimberly again.
Because my condition wasn't great, Mom didn't press me about our situation.
When I said "we broke up," she didn't ask more questions.
When not busy, I'd occasionally think of her.
Like a brief encounter between two people who should never have crossed paths.
Some things happened that shouldn't have happened.
Afterward, everything felt absurd and meaningless.
The next news I got about Kimberly was on local trending topics.
Apparently, she'd been kept by some businessman as an exclusive mistress.
The businessman's wife caught her at a hotel entrance, stripped her naked in the street, and gave her a thorough scolding.
Mom forwarded me that video.
Watching Kimberly on the ground - disheveled, makeup smeared, but without a trace of tears or regret.
My heart felt complicated. Using the most casual tone, I told Mom everything from adding her on WhatsApp to all the events that followed.
Including the specific reason we were honestly facing each other in that hotel room during the video call.
After listening, Mom sighed deeply, seeming to age several years instantly.
From then on, Mom never arranged blind dates for me again.
17
Later, I got news about her from Mrs. Wang, the original matchmaker.
This gets a bit far-fetched.
Dad, Mom, and some old neighbors were sitting downstairs in the sun, chatting.
I happened to be there too, cracking sunflower seeds and listening to jokes - quite entertaining.
Mrs. Wang mentioned that a relative of hers got HIV, saying young people these days really have messy private lives.
Mom, being a gossip, kept asking which relative it was and whether she'd met them.
Mrs. Wang said Kimberly was introduced to her by that relative.
Mentioning Kimberly, Mom's face turned green.
Mrs. Wang knew she was in the wrong.
"Sigh, I didn't do it on purpose. That little bastard only told me he sent the wrong contact much later. So much time had passed, I thought you'd figured it out. How could I have the face to explain?"
Mom naturally didn't want to steer the conversation this way.
But it was unavoidable.
"My little bastard got it probably after messing around with that Kimberly. Sigh, is your Logan okay?"
With these words, Mom's, Dad's, and my faces all turned green.
Back home, they insisted I get tested.
I said it was impossible - we never did anything.
In the end, I couldn't argue and went to the hospital for a full physical. Except for being slightly unhealthy, nothing was wrong.
Only then did the old couple put their hearts at ease.
"For the rest of your life, marry if you want to marry, find whoever you want to find. Mom won't pressure you about this anymore."
"Well, I'll wait until I meet someone compatible."
18
That night, tossing and turning, couldn't sleep.
After much internal struggle, I sent Kimberly a message.
【Are you sick?】
She replied quickly.
【You know about this too?】
【Is it serious?】
【What's serious or not serious about this disease.】
【Sigh...】
【What are you sighing about? We didn't do anything.】
【Not what I meant, just feeling emotional.】
【People in this line of work - who doesn't have mental preparation.】
【Take care.】
【Will do.】
19
Another year passed. During another drunken episode,
in the same hazy state, I sent her another message.
【How are you lately?】
The next day when I sobered up and checked my phone, I realized I'd sent random drunk messages again.
She didn't reply.
After waiting a week, I sent another message.
Still no reply.
Don't know if she changed her WhatsApp or died.
**(The End)**ed at her profile.
Kimberly♥ (Available Nationwide).