Chapter 9: Linda's Date Plan
Two days before Valentine's Day, Linda finally made the decision.
She stared at her phone for a long time that morning, sitting at the small kitchen table with a cup of tea growing cold beside her. Sunlight slipped through the blinds, landing softly on the screen in her hand.
She reread his last message for the third time.
I'd really like to see you in person. I think we owe ourselves that.
Linda swallowed.
She had always been careful. Always the one who thought things through twice before acting. But something about this connection felt steady—different from the rushed excitement she had felt in the past.
She typed slowly.
Okay. Let's plan something.
When the reply came almost immediately, her heart jumped.
I'm glad you said yes. When are you free?
Linda leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
"It's really happening," she whispered to herself.
Later that afternoon, Mathilda burst through the front door, grocery bags in hand, humming loudly.
"I got chocolate," she announced. "Because Valentine's energy."
Linda smiled. "Of course you did."
Mathilda dropped the bags and noticed the look on Linda's face. "Why are you smiling like that?"
Linda hesitated, then held up her phone. "I agreed to meet him."
Mathilda froze.
"Wait—what?" she asked, eyes wide.
"I set up a date," Linda said calmly. "In person."
Mathilda's face broke into a grin. "Linda! That's huge!"
She rushed over and hugged her. "I'm so happy for you."
Linda hugged her back, but she felt Mathilda's arms tighten just a second longer than usual.
They pulled apart.
"When?" Mathilda asked.
"Valentine's Day," Linda replied. "In the evening. Just dinner and a walk. Nothing too much."
Mathilda nodded quickly. "That's perfect. Romantic but safe."
She smiled—but something flickered in her eyes.
Nervousness.
Linda noticed it but didn't say anything.
That night, they sat on the couch scrolling through their phones, as they had done every night lately.
Mathilda was quieter than usual.
"He hasn't asked me to meet yet," she said suddenly.
Linda looked up. "Maybe he's just taking his time."
Mathilda shrugged. "Maybe."
She forced a laugh. "I'm happy for you though. Really."
Linda studied her face. "Are you sure?"
Mathilda nodded quickly. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
Linda didn't push.
The next day, Linda focused on planning.
She chose a small restaurant downtown—warm lighting, calm music, nothing flashy. A place where conversation mattered more than appearances.
She imagined sitting across from him. Hearing his voice without a screen. Seeing if his eyes matched his words.
She told herself not to expect too much.
Still, her heart raced every time she thought about it.
Mathilda watched quietly from the sidelines.
She helped Linda choose an outfit, laughing and teasing.
"Wear this one," Mathilda said, holding up a dress. "It says confident but not trying too hard."
Linda smiled. "You really think so?"
"Yes," Mathilda replied quickly. "He's lucky."
But later that night, Mathilda lay awake in bed, phone resting on her chest.
She stared at the ceiling.
Why hasn't he asked me yet? she wondered.
Her phone buzzed.
Good night. Sweet dreams.
She replied with a heart, but her smile faded quickly.
The nervous feeling wouldn't leave.
The day before Valentine's, Linda confirmed the details.
I'll pick you up at 7, he texted. I'm looking forward to it.
Linda felt a rush of excitement—and fear.
She told Mathilda immediately.
"He's picking me up," Linda said.
Mathilda's smile was instant. "Wow. That's… serious."
"Yeah," Linda replied. "I think he's serious."
Mathilda nodded slowly. "That's good."
She paused. "Do you… feel ready?"
Linda thought about it. "I think so. I'm nervous, but in a good way."
Mathilda laughed softly. "That's how you know."
They sat together that evening, sharing snacks, pretending everything was normal.
But Mathilda's thoughts kept drifting.
She replayed conversations in her head.
The compliments.The promises.The familiar phrases.
A strange feeling settled in her stomach.
Still, she pushed it away.
You're overthinking, she told herself.
That night, Linda packed her bag carefully. Phone charger. Lip gloss. Breath mints.
She stood in front of the mirror, studying herself.
"Just be yourself," she whispered.
From the hallway, Mathilda watched her.
"You're going to be great," she said.
Linda turned. "Thank you."
Mathilda smiled—but when Linda turned back to the mirror, Mathilda's smile faded.
Fear crept in.
Not fear of being alone.
Fear of losing something she hadn't even realized she was competing for.
On Valentine's morning, the apartment buzzed with nervous energy.
Linda was calm on the outside, focused.
Mathilda was restless.
"You okay?" Linda asked.
Mathilda nodded quickly. "Yeah. Just… excited for you."
Linda smiled. "I'll tell you everything when I get back."
Mathilda laughed. "I expect full details."
But as Linda walked out later that day to get ready elsewhere, Mathilda sat alone on the couch, phone in hand, heart racing.
She opened her chat.
Any Valentine's plans? she typed.
The typing bubble appeared… then disappeared.
Minutes passed.
Her chest tightened.
She didn't know it yet—but the answers she was about to get would change everything.
For now, all she felt was unease.
Linda believed she was stepping toward love.
Mathilda believed she was standing still.
Neither of them knew that the date Linda planned would not just test a romance—but destroy a friendship.
And Valentine's Day was only hours away.