As I consoled her after her little outburst, I couldn't stop wondering why she had told me all of that. A normal person wouldn't have done it, especially not on a first date. If you confess to someone that you've been unfaithful in the past, what kind of trust do you think you'll build? Logically, you'd keep something like that to yourself, especially if you're looking to start a relationship with the person.
Of course, none of this matters to me. It's all going to end tonight, regardless of what she says. But still, I find it strange. What made her share something so personal? I suppose it has to do with how recent the situation must be. Perhaps, when thinking about the possibility of starting something new, something inside her broke, and she couldn't control herself. The pressure of remembering her past, her betrayal, and everything it implied must have overwhelmed her.
That leads me to an interesting conclusion: this girl is very sentimental. Every tear, every pause in her story, shows she's full of emotions she doesn't entirely know how to manage. And that, in a way, could be useful for what I want to achieve tonight. Someone so emotional is easier to read, easier to manipulate if you know the right buttons to push.
However, there's something that doesn't quite fit. Someone who has been unfaithful can't be considered a pure person. And my goal has always been to find that person—the purest one, the one who hides nothing, the one who wears no mask.
Since I started down this path, I've been searching for something very specific: absolute honesty, unwavering transparency. I'm not talking about the honesty people show in words or superficial gestures; I mean something much deeper. I want to find someone who, in their day-to-day life, is completely authentic—someone who doesn't need to emotionally disguise themselves to fit in or protect themselves. Someone who simply is what they are.
That search has led me to this moment, to this date. But the problem is, true purity is almost impossible to identify at a glance. People are full of layers, of carefully constructed masks to hide who they are. They use them to protect themselves, to deceive, to survive. How do you distinguish the genuine from the false when everyone is constantly performing?
The only way to uncover the truth, the only way to see who they really are, is to confront them with their own mortality. It might seem cruel, I know, but when someone is on the edge of death, when they feel that everything is about to end, they drop all their defenses. It's in that instant, when fear consumes them, that they reveal their true personality—their goals, their traumas, their deepest secrets.
That's when I can see if someone is truly pure. It's in those final moments that a person fully reveals themselves, when they stop hiding behind their mask and show their true face. And I seek someone who doesn't need that extreme moment to be authentic. I want to find someone who, even in their everyday life, doesn't wear any mask at all—who is pure by nature, with nothing to hide.
That's why I do what I do. Some might call it an experiment; others would see it as senseless cruelty. But for me, it's a quest—a search for something humanity has forgotten, something that seems to have been lost amid the noise and lies of modern life.
And this girl… I'm not sure she's the one. Her confession about infidelity sends me mixed signals. On one hand, her remorse, her vulnerability in sharing it, shows she's capable of feeling guilt and pain. But on the other hand, the act itself reveals a flaw in her character—a lack of integrity I can't ignore.
As I continue to hold her, her body trembling slightly against mine, I reflect on what I'll do next. My plan has always been clear, methodical, but tonight I feel something I haven't felt before: doubt.
Is she the one?
Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't. But that doesn't change the fact that I have to move forward. Because deep down, there's only one way to be completely sure.
While reflecting on everything she had just told me, I was surprised to see her lift her gaze toward me. Her eyes, still a little teary, reflected a mix of shame and regret.
"Sorry," she said, breaking the silence with a soft but emotionally charged tone. "I shouldn't have told you all of that. It's too personal… and it's not fair to drop it on you like this."
Her words carried a hint of sincerity that might have moved someone else, but I simply nodded, putting on my best fake smile—the one I've perfected for moments like this.
"Don't worry, really. It's no big deal," I replied, my tone calm, almost warm, as if her words hadn't had any negative impact on me.
She studied my face for a moment, searching for any sign of discomfort or annoyance. But, of course, she found nothing. My masks are impenetrable. Finally, she seemed to relax and let out a soft sigh.
We walked a bit more, our footsteps echoing softly on the park's paths. The silence between us wasn't awkward, but neither was it natural—it was the kind of pause that begged to be filled. And I knew exactly how to fill it.
I decided to steer the conversation, this time with a subtle but calculated shift.
"You know…" I began, my tone seemingly casual but designed to catch her attention, "I'm glad I got to spend tonight with you. It's rare to find someone you can talk to about real things, you know?"
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, a small smile forming on her lips.
"Do you really mean that?" she asked, a mix of surprise and gratitude in her voice.
"Of course," I affirmed, letting my tone grow a little more intimate. "Don't get me wrong, I enjoy meeting new people, but most conversations stay superficial. With you, it feels different."
I saw her lower her gaze slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. It was a predictable reaction, but an effective one.
"Thank you… that means a lot to me," she replied, her voice now softer.
It was the perfect moment to make my move. I decided to pitch my suggestion subtly, wrapping it in a layer of apparent spontaneity.
"You know," I began, pretending to hesitate, as if I were thinking aloud, "I just had an idea. What would you think about ending the night at my place? We could keep talking, have a drink… whatever you'd like."
I saw her expression shift slightly, first showing surprise, then doubt. Immediately, she raised her hand and shook her head, smiling nervously.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea…" she said, almost more to herself than to me. "I think I should probably head back soon…"
"Oh, of course, I understand," I replied, adopting a tone of understanding yet persistent. "But I promise we'll have a great time. It doesn't have to be anything complicated. Plus, afterward, I can drive you wherever you need to go."
I paused, letting my words settle. My tone was deliberately relaxed, as if I wasn't pressuring her, though I knew every phrase nudged her a little closer to agreeing.
She looked at me, her eyes reflecting a brief internal conflict. Finally, she sighed and nodded.
"Alright… but I can't stay too long."
Internally, I felt a cold, calculated satisfaction. Outwardly, I gave her a calm smile, as if her answer had pleasantly surprised me.
"Perfect. I promise you won't regret it," I said with a wink meant to add a touch of lightness to the moment.
We walked toward a more secluded area of the park, where I had carefully parked my car. It was strategically placed, away from the main lights but not so hidden as to draw suspicion. As we approached, I saw her eyes land on the vehicle.
It wasn't an especially expensive car, but thanks to my obsession with cleanliness and order, it looked as though it had just rolled out of the dealership. The glossy black paint reflected the park's lights like a mirror, and not a single smudge or speck of dust marred its perfection. For me, maintaining that image was important.
I stepped ahead and opened the passenger door with a smooth gesture.
"Please, after you," I said, keeping my tone polite.
She smiled, visibly impressed by the car's condition.
"Wow…" she murmured, running a careful hand over the doorframe. "It's spotless. You can really tell you take care of your things."
"Let's just say I have a bit of an obsession with order," I admitted, feigning a slight tone of embarrassment. "But I think it's a good thing, right?"
"It definitely is. You're very chivalrous, you know?" she added as she settled carefully into the seat, as if afraid to disturb anything.
I closed the door gently and walked around to the driver's side. Before starting the engine, I adjusted the mirrors and the steering wheel—a ritual I performed every time, even though it wasn't really necessary. It was more of a habit, a way of mentally preparing myself for what was to come.
She looked around the interior of the car, clearly impressed by how clean and organized it was.
"I've never seen a car so… perfect inside," she commented, a touch of admiration in her voice. "It's like no one's ever used it."
"Well, let's just say I like to keep things under control," I replied, flashing her a quick smile. "But now that you're here, I'm glad I get to share it with you."
She laughed softly, perhaps a little nervously, as she settled more comfortably into the seat.
"Thanks for inviting me… though I still feel like I'm invading a space that's almost too perfect."
"Not at all. The car is here to be enjoyed," I said as I started the engine and began driving.
As we left the park, I felt a cold calmness settle over me. Everything was in place, every part of the plan progressing precisely as it should. And she, sitting next to me, had no idea what awaited her.