I arrive at the coffee shop five minutes past 4 p.m. I’d love to blame traffic, but the truth is—I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go on this date. It’s been three months since the worst night of my life, and “getting back in the saddle” was the last thing on my list.

The bell over the door trills, and it feels like every pair of eyes turns my way. I wonder if they’ve seen the YouTube video too. Las...