The restaurant was tucked into a quiet corner of the city, the kind of place with too many plants, mismatched mugs, and a playlist that somehow always knew what mood you were in.
I had arrived early, which almost never happened, and was already halfway through my iced vanilla latte by the time Sophie walked in.
She spotted me through the window before she even pushed the door open, and the look on her face told me she had already decided this was going to be a full interrogation.
I had chosen a flared mustard yellow skirt and a cropped denim jacket, bright and soft, the kind of outfit that felt like a mood rather than just clothes.
I hadn't even consciously registered why until Sophie slid into the seat across from me, sunglasses pushed up into her curls, and said:
"You look like a walking Pinterest board."
I grinned. "Hello to you too."
She pointed at me. "No. We're not doing hellos. You texted me 'we need to talk' followed by four heart emojis and a sparkle. I got here as fast as I could. Spill."
I stirred my drink innocently. "I don't know what you mean."
"Ella."
"Fine." I set my straw down. "Something happened."
Sophie leaned forward on both elbows. "With Joe."
It wasn't a question. I felt the smile break across my face before I could stop it and Sophie gasped like I had just confessed to something criminal.
"You kissed him!"
"He kissed me first," I said quickly.
Sophie sat back and pressed both hands to her cheeks.
"Oh my God. Okay. I need everything. Scene by scene. Like I'm watching a rom-com and I missed the first half."
I laughed, warmth creeping up my neck. "It wasn't even dramatic. That's the thing. It was just, we were sitting together after a long day and he just... looked at me.
The way he always looks at me. And then he leaned in and—"
"And?" Sophie's eyes were wide.
"And I didn't stop him," I said simply.
Sophie made a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a sigh.
"Ella. That's the most romantic thing you've ever said and you said it like you were describing the weather."
"I'm trying to stay calm," I said, which was only partially true.
"How was it?" she asked, voice dropping like we were sharing classified information.
I looked at my drink. Smiled at my drink. "It was, Sophie, it was really good. Like, the kind of kiss that makes you forget what you were thinking about."
"Yes!" Sophie pointed at me triumphantly. "That's exactly what it's supposed to feel like. That's the one."
"Don't say that," I said, though I was still smiling.
"Why not? It's true." She tilted her head, studying me the way she always did when she was reading between my lines. "But you're scared."
I exhaled slowly. "A little."
"Because you like him."
"Because I really like him," I corrected. "And it's been easy up until now to keep things light, the banter, the teasing, the whole will-they-won't-they thing.
But after the kiss it's like..." I paused, searching for the word. "It's like the door is open now and I can't pretend I don't see what's on the other side."
Sophie was quiet for a moment, stirring her drink thoughtfully. "What's on the other side?"
I met her eyes. "Something real."
She smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that didn't need any commentary attached. Then she glanced pointedly at my outfit.
"You're wearing skirts now," she said.
"I wear skirts."
"Not like this you don't." She gestured broadly at the mustard yellow situation I had on.
"This is soft girl energy, Ella. This is what happens to women when someone is looking at them right."
I groaned. "Please."
"Did he say anything about it?"
I bit my lip trying not to smile. "Yesterday when we met he looked at my skirt and said, and I quote, 'Is that new or are you actively trying to destroy my concentration?'"
Sophie threw her head back laughing. "Stop. He did not."
"He absolutely did."
"Ella." She wiped the corner of her eye. "You are so gone for this man."
"I know," I said, and the admission sat lighter than I expected.
Sophie's laughter softened into something quieter then. She looked at me the way she had in the grocery store, direct and warm and a little protective.
"I love seeing you like this," she said. "You know that right? That smile you've been wearing since you walked in, I haven't seen that in a long time."
Something tightened gently in my chest. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She reached across and squeezed my hand briefly. "Just, keep your eyes open while you're falling. Not because I think he's bad news.
But because you matter and I need you to remember that even when someone makes you feel this way."
I nodded. "I know. I'm going slowly. Intentionally."
"Good." Sophie picked up her glass. "Because I've seen you broken before and I refuse to watch that again."
"Sophie—"
"I'm serious." Her eyes held mine. "But I also think, " she paused, the smile returning at the edges "I think he might be worth it."
I felt the warmth bloom quietly in my chest. "I think so too."
She raised her glass. "To new beginnings."
I raised mine. "To never settling again."
We clinked, iced coffee sloshing slightly at the rim, and sipped, and the conversation drifted easily after that.
Old memories, recent observations, Sophie's chaotic attempt at learning to cook, a very dramatic retelling of something that had happened at her parents' shop last week.
We laughed until the café filled up around us and neither of us noticed.
At some point my phone lit up on the table. Joe.
How's the girly catch up going?
I smiled at the screen. Sophie, who had absolutely been reading upside down, pointed at me.
"You're glowing," she said. "Right now. In real time."
I locked my phone. "Mind your business."
"Lover girl," Sophie sang under her breath, sipping her drink with entirely too much satisfaction.
I rolled my eyes. But I was smiling.
And I didn't stop for the rest of the afternoon.