Chapter 1
A Date Gone Wrong
Emma wasn’t nervous. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
It was just a date. A normal, simple date.
And yet, as she sat across from Hook at Granny’s Diner, she felt like she was suffocating.
She wasn’t even sure how it had happened—why she had said yes in the first place. Maybe it was because he had been relentless in his pursuit, always flashing that smug grin, always finding a way to make her laugh when she least expected it. Maybe it was because she was tired of being alone. Or maybe, deep down, she had wanted to prove to herself that she could do this—let someone in, let herself be happy.
But now, sitting here, watching Hook twirl his drink between his fingers, she wasn’t so sure.
She cleared her throat. “So… how’s the hand?”
Hook tensed, just for a second, but it was enough. His fingers flexed involuntarily, his gaze flickering to the limb that, until tonight, had been missing.
“It’s… fine,” he said, forcing a smile. “A bit strange, having it back after so long.”
Emma nodded, stirring her straw through her soda. “Right. Must be weird.”
Another silence stretched between them. It wasn’t the comfortable kind, either—it was heavy, awkward, like they were both waiting for the other to say something that would make this easier.
Finally, Hook leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Swan, we don’t have to sit here like two strangers. We’ve faced monsters together, traveled through time. Surely, we can handle a meal.”
Emma let out a breathy chuckle. “You’d think.”
Hook studied her, his expression softer now. “Something on your mind?”
She hesitated. How was she supposed to explain that this didn’t feel right? That as much as she wanted this to work, something about it felt forced?
Instead, she deflected. “I don’t know. I guess I just suck at dates.”
Hook smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I must say, love, you’re not giving me much to work with.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like me to bat my eyelashes and giggle at all your jokes?”
Hook chuckled, but there was something sharp beneath it. “Would it kill you to pretend to have a good time?”
Emma’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”
Hook sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You’re not exactly the romantic type. But you agreed to this, didn’t you? I just—” He exhaled sharply, his frustration bleeding through. “I thought you wanted to be here.”
“I did.” Emma hesitated, biting her lip. “I thought I did.”
And there it was. The truth, laid bare between them.
Hook leaned back in his seat, jaw tightening. “Right.”
Emma groaned, rubbing her hands over her face. “God, I’m screwing this up.”
Hook shook his head, but his usual teasing demeanor was gone. “No, love. I think we both are.”
She looked at him then—really looked at him. And for the first time, she saw it.
This wasn’t going to work.
It wasn’t just the awkwardness or the tension. It was something deeper. They were too different. Hook lived for the chase, for grand gestures and stolen kisses in the heat of battle. Emma wasn’t built like that. She wasn’t some fairytale princess waiting to be swept off her feet. She needed something real, something solid. And Hook… Hook was still chasing the dream of something that didn’t quite exist.
Maybe he was in love with her. Maybe she even cared about him.
But love wasn’t always enough.
The rest of the night was a blur. They finished their meal, exchanged forced smiles, and walked out together, both pretending that this wasn’t the beginning of the end.
When they reached her door, Hook hesitated, searching her face for something—anything—that might change what they both already knew.
“Goodnight, Swan,” he said finally.
She swallowed. “Goodnight.”
And then he was gone.
Emma closed the door behind her, leaned against it, and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
So much for that.