I was on a date, and he was so sweet. When the bill came, the waitress looked at him and said, “Sir, your card was declined.” He turned pale. I smiled and paid. As we left, the waitress grabbed my arm and whispered…..

The air in Giovanni’s felt thicker than usual, a humid mix of garlic, cheap wine, and nerves. For Clara, this was date number three with Elias. He was an archivist, with a soft voice and a habit of pressing his palms together when he spoke, which he was doing now, as he explained the finer points of 16th-century cartography. He was undeniably sweet, listening intently to her and refilling her water glass twice before she could even ask.

The food was impeccable—Clara’s osso buco had fallen away from the bone