"I love you," slipped past my lips, and I immediately froze in front of the stove. The weight of what I had just said hit me like a ton of bricks. Cathy, who was setting a table for two, paused and stared at me for a brief moment before continuing her task.

My inner voice, equally stunned by my inadvertent confession, tried to calm my shock. "Maybe she didn't hear you, or maybe she thought you said something else," it reassured me.

"What was that you said?" Cathy asked without looking at me, her voice casual yet challenging.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes, thinking, "Crap, she heard!" My inner voice urged me to play dumb and not let her know how I truly felt. "You've only been on a couple of dates, don't blow it! Cook the food and keep your cool," it advised.

"You said something. I thought you were talking to me," Cathy said nonchalantly, but I could sense the underlying challenge in her tone.

"Don't look her way!" my inner voice commanded. "You know she'll freak out if you say it again. She'll come up with excuses to avoid seeing you. Be prepared to hear that her dog got sick, maybe someone in her family got ebola, or she decided to become a nun."

“You are always looking for the worst in people.” I informed the voice.

"She's still here, she looked at me," I thought.

"Those eyes. Why do we feel the urge to smile when we look into her eyes?" My inner voice, for a brief moment, saw a glimmer of hope. Should I trust my feelings? Maybe that voice was right? I shifted my attention back to the spaghetti on the stove.

"Thank you. That's what I said. Thank you for setting the table," I blurted out, unable to resist the earlier influence of my inner voice. "Dammit!" I scolded myself. "Chicken!"

"Hmm," was the only response from Cathy.

"Thank you... is that how you keep your cool? I told you to keep your cool, not lie to her," my inner voice berated me. "Good job, now you sound like an idiot. She knows what you said. You told me she made you smile. Why don't you just slap her back and say something else stupid like 'you're neat' or 'are those pants new?' Or maybe the old trusty 'the weather's nice today.' You're going to blow it, you better tell her."

"You told me to play dumb, 'Don't scare her away' was your thought. I... I went along because I'm scared that I do love her," I admitted, my hands still stirring the dinner as I recalled my earlier revelation. "I'm sorry," I paused, "I said I love you the first time." I kept my gaze fixed on the dinner, hesitant to look at her. But when I finally did, I saw a questioning look in her eyes and a faint smile on her lips.

"Ohh," she responded, finishing setting the table.

Dinner was ready, but I didn't rush to dish it out. Cathy remained quiet for a minute or two before she spoke up. "Well, I still plan on eating tonight and hope you will join me," she said as she walked past me to get glasses from the cabinets.

"I wasn't trying to weird you out with what I said," I apologized, attempting to ease the awkwardness I had created. Once again, my inner voice came to the rescue. "Quit talking! She still wants to have dinner with you."

She walked past me, heading back to the table, and I noticed that she slowed down when she was directly behind me. She bumped my backside with her hip, a small gesture that spoke volumes.

"Let's sit and eat," she said, her words evaporating my internal turmoil.