Of course I fell in love with her after the first date.

I don't judge people. I tell my stories quite frankly. The abuse. The molestation. The homelessness. Some of the more vanilla unclassified missions that are still pretty exciting to civilians. That helps people know they can trust me with their stories. Maybe that compels them to try to match me, reciprocate with their shit too.

We texted for a few weeks on Tinder. She was twelve years younger than me but the way she talked was very mature. Maybe jaded is a better word. No, she had such a raw, ugly understanding of life that allowed her to see real beauty. Calm, calculated approach before she let herself laugh at a joke.

It was like nine o'clock. I hadn't eaten anything that day because I was fasting. I saw a message from her on my phone. I opened the app to respond and she started off by frantically asking if I would let her come over to my house so I said yeah, sure. I told her we'd order some chicken and I'd buy her a round trip taxi.

When she arrived, she was prettier than her profile pictures. She had short jet black hair and almond eyes. She could have easily been the top Google image search result if you looked for "hot Korean chick."

She fucking hated my apartment. It was in a ritzy neighborhood. It had three bedrooms and I was living there alone. I didn't have any furniture. Except a mattress on the hardwood living room floor. She asked me if I was poor, or living above my means in this neighborhood.

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It had been at least three months since I had a friendly face-to-face conversation anyone, let alone a beautiful young woman like her. I was desperate for this connection. I wanted to impress her so I flashed her my wallet. It was filled with a fat stack of hundreds. She was like what the fuck, who carries that much cash.

I admit, I know this is a great psychological trick. Flashing a thick stack of cash intimidates most people, makes them respect you, and even sometimes desire to be with you. It is also dangerous for obvious reasons. But I was in the drivers seat so I didn't care enough to not use everything I could to impress her enough to be my company for the evening.

When the chicken arrived, she ate too fast. Just fucking stuffing it in her mouth. She guzzled a few beers. She picked out the movie for us to watch, "Adaptation". Fucking great choice. We sat next to each other on the mattress in the livingroom and watched it my laptop. When the ending credits came on I told her I had a great night and said I would get her a taxi so she could go home.

She asked, "Aren't you going to ask me to stay the night?"

I explained to her because of my life, because of my experiences, I don't have sex with anyone unless its absolutely clear that they want it. And touching, petting, and kissing does not progress unless I know there is permission to go further.

She burst into tears. She said she needed to stay at my house. She said she couldn't go back home. She said told me the story about how she got into prostitution and lived in sexual slavery.

She told me she didn't have anywhere else to go. She told me she came to my house that night without getting permission from her managers. She asked me to let her live with me. To help her escape.

And of course, none of this turned me off.