"Ant Mary, mind if I borrow Haley for a bit?" Dale says, taking my arm and pulling me closer to him.

"By all means, take her out for dinner!" Mary exclaims with a snicker she's trying to hide.

Dale doesn't ask me to go out for dinner. He doesn't say anything at all as he leads me out the front door and for some reason, I'm completely mesmerized by this encounter that I don't fight the control.

The moment we reach the driveway, Dale turns me around to face him and takes my hands. "Do you know why you have phobias?" he asks me.

At first, I want to respond like I would respond to Brad, but the serious inflection in his voice tells me he has a more defined reason for requesting my answer.

"Not exactly," I tell him, feeling more embarrassed that he knows about my phobias. I hardly know him. We hardly had a chance to start anything on the right foot before it got tarnished with my baggage.

"I do," he says. "I have phobias too and it's the main reason I went into psychology."

Maybe he's saying all this to make me feel better, but that's a pretty big lie if he's making it up. "What are your phobias?" I ask him.

He continues walking, pulling me with me until we reach his car, which he opens the passenger side door of. "Hop in."

Without question, I slide in. I should question him and his motives. He's weird. He's hot, but he's weird. I'm weird. Maybe that's what this is. Weird people attract one another.

He drops down into his seat and his car silently purrs before pulling away from the curb. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere we can talk," he says.

"What's wrong with your car?" I ask.

"It's not where I want to talk." Mary wouldn't send me out with her nephew if he was unstable. I just wish I understood why I hadn't heard her mention him before. Mom and Mary were friends for so long but he never came up in conversation. Not that was in all of their conversations, but I feel like I would have heard of him at some point.

We pull into a sight-seeing lookout viewing area. This town has a few of these since it's perched on top of a hill, but I've only come to this one a few times throughout my life. I guess when you live near nice sights, you don't feel the need to see them all the time.

Dale turns off the ignition and steps out of the car, so I follow, meeting him in front where there's a bench. "Have a seat," he tells me.

"Is this like some kind of therapy session?" I ask him.

"No, it's a date," he says.

"Well, your voice sounds like a therapist's voice, and I don't remember agreeing to a date tonight."

"Haley, please, would you sit down next to me?" he asks a little sweeter this time, dropping down onto the wooden bench first.

Still feeling hesitant, I stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what's going through his head, but I can't read minds, so I probably won't get much more insight standing than I will by sitting.

I sit down next to him and uncomfortably fold my arms over my chest and cross my legs. "It's pretty here," I offer as a way to sidestep whatever psychoanalysis he was planning to try on me.

"Have you ever walked past someone, stopped and this overwhelming feeling that you knew them or you were supposed to know them?" he asks.

I shrug. Besides feeling attraction for someone, I haven't stumbled by a random person thinking I should know them. "Not really."

"Okay," he says with a sigh. "Haley, I don't know how to say this without completely freaking you out."

"Well, I'm already freaked out right now by just your statement, so you might as well get it over with now."

He twists his body to look at me and peels my arms away from my chest as if it's a natural occurrence for him to be touching me.

"Do you feel that?" he asks.

His hands are covering mine. They're large enough to consume mine and warm compared to the chill I felt before he touched me. "I—"

He closes his eyes briefly and snickers as if he's suddenly embarrassed. "So, my phobia has been about dying alone someday."

"That's not a real phobia," I tell him. "All single people feel that way."

"No, it's different," he says. "I can always imagine what my future might be like if I take certain actions or make particular decisions. You know, like daydreaming. Everyone does that."

"Yeah, so?" I ask.

"Well, anytime I tried to think of a future where I'd be settled down and have a family, nothing would come to mind. I couldn't imagine anything of the sort. I could only see myself being lonely, old and alone.."

I feel bad for him. Why would anyone assume something so awful? "That's kind of sad, Dale. You shouldn't think that way. But, why would that freak me out?"

"Do you think your phobias have something to do with your past or future?"

I shrug again because I truly don't know where my stupid phobias came from. "I don't know."

"How old were you when your dad left?" He asks. Did I tell him Dad left us?

"Six. Why?"

"What's your earliest memory?" he continues while staring into my eyes with so much depth, I'm being desperate to know what's going through his head.

"I don't know. I guess maybe when he left us." It was a terrible day, one that sent mom on a year-long depression. Brad and I had to do a lot of work around the house at young ages because Mom wasn't well, and it always stuck out in my head, but not much before then.

"Have you seen your dad since then?" he asks.

"No, Dale, I haven't. I really don't want to talk about him, though."

"I'm sorry," he says.

"It's okay. I just never feel great when he gets brought up and I'd rather him stay where he belongs." Not in my life. "I'd much rather focus on what's going to freak me out."

"I asked you to marry me, Haley," he says.

I shake my head and my heart flops around at the same time. "I'm sorry, what?" I feel like laughing but why is he so serious right now?

"I lived with Mary for a while when I was a kid. We were neighbors before you, your mom, and Brad moved away."

"Oh," I say. "You asked me to marry you when we were kids?" That's kind of adorable. I knew him, though, that's not adorable. How come I can't remember him.

"I did. I was a smart kid," he says with a smirk.

"I guess so," I tell him while wrapping my hair around the back of my ear.

"I wouldn't say I'm freaked out, but a little sad I don't remember you. Though, it does make sense why my mom and Mary were so close."

"I wanted to save you," he says.

"From what?" I laugh. "Brad? I probably asked you to save me from him. Most annoying brother in the world—was and still is."

"Yeah," he says, dropping my hands down to my lap. "Haley, I tried to forget about you when you moved and then when I moved, but you've always had a spot in the back of my mind. I never planned to come back to the east coast, but when I decided to come back, I needed to know how you were doing. When Mary told me you worked with her, my childhood feelings of love for my best friend came rushing back with excitement. Then I saw you—"

Maybe he has some crazy crush on me as a five-year-old, but I'd remember him if we had a friendship that close. I would have had to. This makes no sense and I'm getting freaked out by this conversation. Like he said I would.

"Dale, this is all a little weird for me."

"I still think I'm supposed to marry you," he says.

And it's official. I'm done. "Can you take me back to your ant's please?"

"Haley, please listen to me," he begs. How does a psychopath look so normal? That's scary. This is scary. No one could hear us if I screamed right now. I should have known when I questioned the look on his face at lunch. I shouldn't have followed him out here. I knew better. But it's Mary.

"I listened to you, Dale. I heard everything you just said."

"Okay, I'm—I'm real sorry for stressing you out. Come on, let me take you back."

I take the opportunity to get into his car while somewhat debating if I should walk. It would take me an hour in the dark edge of the woods but I might be safer. I buckle my seatbelt as he's climbing in. "I'm not going to hurt you. I should have waited, but then I would have been withholding information and that never works out well."

I choose not to respond. I don't want to engage in any further conversation with him right now.

The ten-minute drive feels like an hour filled with awkward stares and someone breathing over my shoulder in a dark room. My heart is pounding so hard it's hurting my chest and I don't understand any of this. Why me?

I'm thankful Brad and I took our own cars here. I don't want to make this scene worse than it already is. I get right into my car and take off quickly to avoid looking back at whatever Dale must be doing right now.

I'm in a daze the entire way home and hardly remember the steps I took to make my way from the car and into my bedroom.

Why does this shit happen? I didn't ask for this. God forbid a good looking guy has interest in me because evidently, this is the way it needs to turn out. He probably convinced Mary he was her freaking nephew. Jesus.

I strip my clothes off and climb into bed, tossing my phone onto my night table. I hit the lights and cover my blanket over my face.