She had said yes to the blind date mostly to get her best friend to stop insisting, bracing herself for awkward small talk and forced chemistry. Instead, Eric had played the role of the perfect gentleman with unnerving precision: flowers, compliments, thoughtful questions, even that engraved keychain that landed in her palm like a promise. For a few hours, she almost believed the universe had finally dealt her a kinder hand.

The illusion shattered with his email. Every kindness was retroactively priced: dinner converted to dollars, the flowers reduced to a “hug owed,” the keychain framed as an advance payment on a second date, her warmth recast as “emotional labor” he was entitled to collect. The closing threat — that he might tell her boyfriend’s friend, Chris, if she didn’t “comply” — turned discomfort into fear. In that moment, she understood: he hadn’t been generous. He’d been keeping score.