Chapter 76 First Kiss

Chapter 76 First Kiss
The late‑afternoon sun hung low over the street as Amelia and Ryan sat outside the café, their empty cups pushed to the side of the small metal table. A soft breeze rustled the leaves overhead, carrying the faint smell of roasted coffee and warm pavement. Amelia couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed — or laughed this much.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, smiling at her in that quiet, easy way he had. “I still can’t believe the barista spelled your name ‘Ameela.’”

Amelia snorted. “Yours was worse. ‘Ryen’? That’s not even close.”

“It’s unique,” he said, pretending to be offended. “Maybe I’ll keep it.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade.
When they finally stood to leave, Ryan reached for her hand. It wasn’t dramatic — just a soft brush of fingers, a silent question. Amelia’s heart fluttered as she laced her fingers with his, letting him lead them away from the café and down the quiet street.

They walked slowly, their shadows stretching long across the sidewalk. The world felt softer somehow, like the evening had wrapped itself around them in a warm, gentle hush. Amelia felt light, almost buoyant, as if the weight she usually carried had loosened its grip.
When they reached her driveway, they both stopped, still holding hands.

“I had a really good time today,” Ryan said, his voice warm and sincere.

“Me too,” Amelia replied, her cheeks warming. “It was… really nice.”

Ryan stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint freckles across his nose. “Can I…?”

Amelia nodded before he finished.

He leaned in and kissed her — soft, warm, careful. The kind of kiss that didn’t demand anything, just offered something gentle and real. Amelia’s breath caught, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.

When they pulled apart, Ryan’s cheeks were pink. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

He gave her hand one last squeeze before heading down the street, glancing back once with a shy grin that made her stomach flip all over again.

Amelia floated up the stairs to her room, still replaying the kiss in her mind. She closed her bedroom door behind her, leaning against it with a dreamy sigh.
That’s when Lola appeared.
Arms crossed. Eyebrow raised. Expression sharp enough to cut glass.

“Well, well,” Lola drawled. “Look who thinks she’s some kind of—”

Amelia walked right past her.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t pause.
Didn’t even look at her.

Lola blinked, thrown off. “Excuse me?”

Amelia hummed softly to herself as she set her bag on her desk, still smiling.

“Are you seriously ignoring me?” Lola snapped, stepping forward.

Amelia didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The warmth in her chest was louder than Lola’s voice had ever been.

Lola’s frustration cracked through her tone. “Amelia!”

But Amelia simply opened her bedroom door again, stepped out, and shut it right in Lola’s face.

Dinner smelled like garlic and tomatoes — warm, comforting, familiar. Her dad was already seated at the table, serving himself a generous portion of pasta.

“There you are,” he said, smiling. “Perfect timing.”

Amelia sat down, still glowing from the evening.
“So…” her dad said, trying and failing to sound casual. “How was your date?”

Amelia twirled her fork, cheeks warming. “It went really well.”

Her dad’s shoulders relaxed, like he’d been holding his breath. “Good. Ryan seems like a good kid.”

“He is,” she said softly.

They ate in comfortable silence for a moment before Amelia looked up again.
“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever… thought about dating again?”

Her dad froze mid‑bite, eyebrows lifting. “Dating?”

“Yeah,” she said gently. “Like… getting back out there.”

He set his fork down, leaning back. “Honestly? I haven’t really thought about it. I can’t imagine loving anyone other than your mum.”

Amelia’s chest tightened, but not painfully — more like a soft ache. “I get that. I just… I think you deserve to be happy.”

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes softening. “Sweetheart… right now, all I need is you. Maybe one day I’ll think about dating again. But I’m not in a rush.”

She smiled, touched. “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Amelia.”

They finished dinner talking about school, the squeaky laundry door he still hadn’t fixed, and whether they should try making homemade pizza next weekend. It felt normal. It felt safe.
It felt like family.

Later, Amelia brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into her pajamas. When she stepped into the hallway, Lola appeared again — arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.

“Oh, so now you’re just pretending I don’t exist?” Lola demanded.

Amelia didn’t even blink.
She walked straight past her, opened her bedroom door, and stepped inside.

Lola sputtered. “Amelia! I’m talking to—”

Amelia shut the door in her face.
Then she climbed into bed, pulled the blankets up to her chin, and let herself smile into the darkness.
Tonight, Lola’s voice wasn’t the loudest thing in the room.
Tonight, it didn’t matter at all.