Chapter 11: Eighteen

February arrived, bringing with it Emily’s eighteenth birthday.

Sophie had turned eighteen the month before, in January. They’d celebrated with a small, intimate party at Sophie’s house - just the two of them, pizza and cupcakes and music. Emily had given her a new set of guitar strings and a vintage band t-shirt she’d found at a thrift store. They’d spent the evening curled up on Sophie’s bed listening to vinyl records, talking about their dreams and kissing lazily between songs.

Now Emily’s eighteenth birthday was approaching - February 14th, Valentine’s Day. Sophie had been planning something special for weeks, refusing to tell Emily what it was no matter how much she begged.

“It’s a surprise,” Sophie kept saying with that mischievous smile. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Emily’s birthday fell on a Saturday that year, which Sophie declared was “perfectly fitting - a whole day to celebrate the most romantic person I know.”

When the day arrived, Sophie picked Emily up at six in the evening, looking gorgeous in dark jeans and a burgundy button-up shirt. Emily wore a dress - deep red, fitting, elegant - and had spent an hour on her hair and makeup.

“You look stunning,” Sophie said, kissing her cheek quickly before Emily could get in the car. Even that small gesture made Emily glance around nervously, checking if any neighbors were watching.

“Where are we going?” Emily asked as Sophie drove.

“You’ll see,” Sophie said, that mysterious smile playing on her lips.

When they pulled up to the familiar Italian restaurant - the same one where they’d had their first official date - Emily’s heart skipped.

“Soph” she started, but Sophie was already coming around to open her door.

“Come on,” Sophie said, offering her hand.

Emily took it hesitantly, still feeling that familiar nervousness about being seen in public. But as they walked toward the entrance, she noticed something strange - the restaurant looked open, lights on and music playing softly, but there were no other cars in the parking lot.

Inside, the restaurant was empty except for one table - their table, the same one they’d sat at on their first date. It was set beautifully with candles, fresh flowers, and two place settings.

“Sophie,” Emily breathed, looking around in wonder and confusion. “Where is everyone?”

Sophie squeezed her hand, smiling. “I know the owners - they’re friends of my parents. I asked if I could rent the restaurant for the evening. Just for us. It’s completely private, Em. No one you know is here. No one will see us. Tonight, you don’t have to hide.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears immediately. “You ... you rented the entire restaurant?”

“I wanted to recreate our first date,” Sophie said softly, leading her to the table. “But better. Because that night, you were scared. You were worried about being seen, about what people would think. And I understood - I really did. But tonight...” She pulled out Emily’s chair. “Tonight, I wanted you to feel completely safe. Completely free to just be yourself.”

Emily sat down, tears now streaming freely down her face. “Soph, this is...”

“Too much?” Sophie asked, looking suddenly uncertain as she sat across from her.

Emily wiped at her tears with her napkin, smudging her carefully applied mascara. “I’m sorry, I’m ruining my makeup,”

“Hey,” Sophie said gently, standing up and coming around the table. She held out her hand. “Come on. Let’s fix it.”

“What?” Emily looked up at her through watery eyes.

“Your makeup,” Sophie said with a soft smile. “We can’t have you crying it all off before we even order. Come with me.”

Emily took her hand and let Sophie lead her toward the restroom. The restaurant bathroom was nicer than most, marble counters, soft lighting, and actual space to move around. Sophie locked the door behind them and gently turned Emily to face the mirror.

“Look at you,” Sophie murmured, standing behind her, hands resting lightly on Emily’s shoulders. “Even with mascara running, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”