The restaurant was bathed in golden light, the kind of place that looked effortlessly romantic without trying too hard. Soft jazz played in the background, the clink of glasses and the low murmur of conversations filling the space.

Diana sat across from Emma, nervously twisting the stem of her wine glass between her fingers.

"You look like you're about to drill a hole through that glass," Emma teased, her voice light, her smile radiant in the candlelight.

Diana flushed. "I just... I don't ...