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While I was on a date, the bill came, and the waitress said softly, “Sir, your card was declined.”
My date’s face turned pale with embarrassment, and I could feel the awkwardness settle between us like a heavy fog.
Neither of us said much as we gathered our things to leave.
It was one of those moments where pride and uncertainty collided, and I wasn’t sure how the evening would end.
But as we walked out, something completely unexpected happened.
The waitress suddenly reached out and gently grabbed my arm. She leaned in close and whispered, “I lied.”
Confused, I looked at her, and before I could say anything, she slipped a folded receipt into my hand and disappeared back inside.
My heart began to race with a mix of curiosity and hope as I carefully unfolded the paper. I turned it over—and in frantic handwriting, there were two words:
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