One Date

At 6:47 p.m., Sophie decided she wasn't going. ​She stared at herself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, one hand resting on her waist while the other held the phone that had been buzzing every few minutes. ​Unknown: Are you on your way? ​She rolled her eyes. ​"No." ​She said it aloud this time, as if saying it would make the decision final. ​She wasn't going. ​There was something ridiculous about getting dressed up to meet a man she had never met before just because her friend had decided she was tired of watching Sophie reject every man who showed the slightest interest in her. ​"It's just one date," her friend, Chloe, had said that afternoon. ​Those four words had sounded harmless. ​Now they sounded like a trap. ​Sophie looked at the black dress hanging loosely around her body. She had chosen it because it was simple. Nothing too deliberate. Nothing that said she had spent an hour deciding what to wear. ​She had, in fact, spent an hour deciding what to wear. ​Her phone buzzed again. ​Unknown: If you're changing your mind, I understand. No pressure. ​She paused. ​That was unexpected. ​Most men would have sent something irritating by now. ​Where are you? ​Are you coming? ​I've been waiting. ​Instead, he had given her an easy way out. ​She typed. ​Sophie: I'm coming. ​She stared at the message for two seconds before hitting send. ​Then she immediately regretted it. ​By 7:26 p.m., Sophie was sitting across from him. ​Daniel. ​That was his name. ​At least, that's what she hoped his name was because Chloe had been unusually secretive about the whole thing. ​"He's nice," Chloe had said. ​"That tells me nothing." ​"He's handsome." ​"That tells me even less." ​"He has a job." ​"Chloe!" ​"What? I'm trying to sell him to you." ​Sophie had laughed then. ​She wasn't laughing now. ​Daniel was handsome, but not in the intimidating way she had expected. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and dark trousers. His hair was neatly trimmed, and there was something calm about his face. ​Too calm. ​Sophie wondered if he was nervous. ​If he was, he hid it well. ​"So," he said. ​"So," she replied. ​They both laughed. ​"I'm sorry," Daniel said. "This is awkward." ​"Very." ​"Good. I thought it was just me." ​That made her smile. ​Their waiter came over, and they ordered drinks. ​For the first few minutes, they talked about everything people normally talk about when they don't know what to talk about. ​Work. ​Traffic. ​The weather. ​The food. ​It was painfully ordinary. ​Then Daniel asked, "Why did you agree to come?" ​Sophie looked at him. ​"That's a strange question." ​"Is it?" ​"Yes." ​"I'm curious." ​She took a sip of her drink. ​"Honestly?" ​"Honestly." ​"I almost didn't come." ​Daniel smiled. ​"I almost didn't come either." ​That surprised her. ​"Then why are you here?" ​He leaned back in his chair. ​"I was curious." ​"About me?" ​"About the woman who apparently told my friend she wasn't interested in dating anyone." ​Sophie narrowed her eyes. ​"Your friend?" ​"Chloe." ​Sophie groaned. ​"Of course." ​Daniel laughed. ​"She told me you were difficult." ​"She told you that?" ​"She used the word complicated." ​"That is worse." ​He laughed again. ​And somehow, the awkwardness disappeared. ​By 8:15 p.m., they were talking like they had known each other for years. ​Sophie couldn't explain how it happened. ​One minute they were discussing work, and the next, Daniel was telling her about his childhood. ​His father had been a strict man who believed boys shouldn't cry. ​His mother had been the opposite. ​"She always told me crying wasn't weakness," he said. "She said sometimes your body knows you're hurting before your mouth is brave enough to admit it." ​Sophie became quiet. ​"That sounds like something my mother would say." ​Daniel looked at her. ​"Was she like that?" ​Sophie nodded. ​"She still is." ​"That's good." ​"Yes." ​There was something in his voice that made her ask, "And your mother?" ​Daniel looked down at the table. ​"She died three years ago." ​The smile disappeared from Sophie's face. ​"I'm sorry." ​He nodded. ​"Thank you." ​For a moment, neither of them spoke. ​Then Daniel smiled faintly. ​"She would have liked you." ​Sophie blinked. ​"You don't even know me." ​"I know." ​"Then how could she like me?" ​"Because she liked people who listened." ​Sophie smiled. ​"I listen?" ​"You've been listening to me for almost an hour." ​"Maybe I'm just waiting for my food." ​He laughed. ​"There she is." ​"Who?" ​"The woman who doesn't like being too serious." ​Sophie smiled, but something inside her shifted. ​She had come to this restaurant expecting an ordinary evening. ​She had expected awkward silence, forced smiles, and an excuse to leave early. ​Instead, she found herself wishing the evening would slow down. ​At 9:41 p.m., it started raining. ​Hard. ​They stood beneath the restaurant's entrance, watching cars splash through the wet streets. ​"I can call you a ride," Daniel said. ​"I have one coming." ​"Good." ​A few seconds passed. ​Neither moved. ​Sophie looked at him. ​Daniel looked back. ​There was something strange about that silence. ​Not uncomfortable. ​Just full. ​"You know," he said, "this wasn't what I expected." ​"What did you expect?" ​"A date." ​She laughed. ​"And this isn't?" ​"It is." ​"Then what is it?" ​He looked at her for a moment. ​"Something I don't want to end yet." ​Her smile slowly faded. ​Not because she was unhappy. ​Because she didn't know what to do with the feeling suddenly forming in her chest. ​Her phone buzzed. ​Her ride was outside. ​Sophie looked at the car, then back at Daniel. ​"I should go." ​He nodded. ​"You should." ​Neither of them moved. ​Finally, she stepped forward. ​"Goodnight, Daniel." ​"Goodnight, Sophie." ​She walked toward the car. ​Then stopped. ​She turned around. ​Daniel was still standing beneath the entrance, watching her. ​For some reason, she smiled. ​He smiled back. ​She got into the car. ​As the vehicle pulled away, Sophie looked through the window until the restaurant disappeared behind her. ​She didn't know it yet, but she would remember that night for the rest of her life. ​Not because it was perfect. ​Not because anything extraordinary happened. ​But because sometimes, the biggest stories begin on the most ordinary nights. ​Sometimes, love doesn't arrive with fireworks. ​Sometimes, it arrives quietly. ​Sits across from you. ​Orders dinner. ​Makes you laugh. ​And asks you to stay a little longer. ​It was only one date. ​At least, that's what Sophie thought. ​Until her phone buzzed. ​Daniel: I know this might sound crazy, but can I see you again? ​Sophie stared at the message. ​And for the first time in a very long time, she didn't know whether she was afraid of falling in love or excited to