I Dreamed the Perfect Blind Date Was Lying to Me Chapter 07

I Dreamed the Perfect Blind Date Was Lying to Me Chapter 07

The air turned cold for a second.

His expression didn’t change. The smile was still there. But his pupils contracted slightly.

“No.” He said it quickly and firmly.

But his right hand lightly squeezed his cup, a tiny movement.

I didn’t press further, because I already had my answer.

That night when I got home, I did two things.

First, I texted Mrs. Walsh. [Mrs. Walsh, what did Mr. Hamilton’s ex-wife do for work? I’d like to know more about her.]

I kept my tone soft.

Mrs. Walsh probably thought I was softening. She replied quickly with a long message.

“Her name was Julie. She worked with USO, the military entertainment organization. Very pretty. But she had health problems, so they split.”

Julie. USO. Pretty. I stared at that message, my fingers going cold.

In the dream, the woman in the yellow coat, the one Leo called “Julie.”

Second, I opened my laptop and logged into a database my college friend had given me access to.

I searched for “Julie” along with USO. Nothing useful came up.

But I changed tactics.

I searched for Derek’s hometown, somewhere in the Midwest, as Mrs. Walsh had mentioned.

I dug through public records from that county for a long time. Eventually I found an old article about an elementary school talent show.

In the list of winners, from Mrs. Peterson’s third grade class, there was a name: Leo Hamilton.

Listed parent: Derek Hamilton.

My hands started shaking.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Leo. He had a son. He had lied to me.

And my dream… wasn’t a dream. Or at least, not entirely.

I shut my laptop, sat back in my chair, and took a deep breath in and out slowly.

This feeling wasn’t fear. It was a coldness that went all the way to the bone.

Now I understood. He wasn’t just here to date. He was looking for someone to raise his child.

And in the narrative of my mom, Mrs. Walsh, and even myself, he was just a divorced officer who was a “good catch.”

What a beautiful cover.

I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Jenna, that lawyer friend of yours, the one who does family law. Can you set up a meeting?”

“What’s going on? Are you getting a divorce? You’re not even married.”

“No,” I said. “I just want to understand something about disclosure in relationships.”

There was a two second pause on the line.

“Emily, are you in trouble?”

“Not yet,” I said. “But I’m about to go on the offense.”