As soon as Rosie heard the bathroom door shut behind Alex, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Meg's number.

Meg didn't pick up.

"Fuck!" Rosie growled. She proceeded to text Meg, "911 ANSWER YOUR PHONE!"

When she called a second time, Meg answered on the first ring. "Someone better be dead because I'm going to be in deep shit for answering my phone during dinner..."

Rosie opened her mouth to answer, but instead of words, a sob erupted and she dissolved into tears once again.

Instantly, Meg felt terrible. "Oh, Ro, don't cry!" she begged, "I'm sorry! What happened?"

Between sobs and sniffles, Rosie explained, "Alex is dating my mom!"

"What!?" Meg exploded. "Are you fucking serious? How... I mean... What the fuck!?"

Rosie let out a small humourless laugh, even though there was absolutely nothing funny about the situation. "How could she do this to me!?" she demanded. "How could she date the only woman I've ever loved!?"

Rather than answer that question (seeing as she had serious doubts that Rosie actually loved her), Meg instead asked, "Wait, how long have they been dating?"

"Three fucking years!" she exclaimed.

"Oh..."

A beat.

"Spit it out," Rosie said, knowing Meg had something to say on the matter.

Meg let out a sigh, knowing Rosie wasn't going to like what she had to say, but needing to say it all the same. "Ro, you haven't even known Alex a year. If your mom has been dating her for three years, I don't think she's doing it to spite you or whatever. She saw her first, you know?"

In the silence that followed, Meg could tell that Rosie didn't like that one bit...

"That's not the point!"

"Then what is the point, Ro?" Meg asked.

Rosie's temper was simmering just short of exploding. "I don't know, okay!? It's just..." She didn't seem to know how to finish the sentence in the midst of her anger, the words bleeding into a frustrated growl.

Meg pursed her lips, momentarily debating whether to tell Rosie the truth or placate her. "Look, Rosie," she said frankly, "I've tried to play along with this whole weird 'hot for teacher' thing you've got going on, but you have to face the truth, okay? She's not interested in you. You tried your best, but it's clear she just sees you as a student. There's nothing romantic there. Maybe it's time for you to face the music and accept that maybe she really is happy with your mom. Move on."

"Fuck off," Rosie snapped, then immediately hung up the call.

When Rosie returned to the table, Emily was nearly vibrating with nervous energy. She wanted nothing more than to comfort her daughter, but based on what Alex had told her of their interaction, she was doing her best to restrain herself, as Rosie clearly was in no mood for her brand of motherly comfort just then.

"Everything alright?" Emily asked. She wanted so badly to sweep her daughter into an embrace, the way she used to do when she scraped her knee or had a bad dream...but Rosie hadn't been receptive to that kind of open affection in years.

"Peachy," Rosie replied sarcastically. She stared down at her food, suddenly finding herself without an appetite. She picked up her fork, pushed her food around for a moment or two, then put her fork back down. She was afraid that if she tried eating, it would come right back up.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily attempted to start the conversation.

Rosie glowered at her plate so she wouldn't have to face whatever emotions were in her mother's eyes. "No," she bit out.

"But..."

"I said no!" Rosie snapped.

Emily glanced over at Alex, the two sharing yet another silent conversation. "Why don't you take the car and go home?" she suggested. "Alex will drive me home after dinner." This wasn't how she'd wanted this evening to go, but she could tell that Rosie needed some time to acclimate to the news and she couldn't help but hope that once the shock wore off, she'd find it in her heart to be happy for them.

"Thanks," she said sullenly, extending her hand for the car keys. She really didn't think she could sit through an entire dinner with her mother and her crush being all lovey-dovey with each other without losing her mind entirely.

She snatched the keys from Emily's hand and grabbed her purse, stomping out of the restaurant, leaving a trail of curious stares and whispers in her wake, the entire restaurant having been privy to the rather public spectacle that was her blow-up...

Once she disappeared through the front doors, Emily turned to Alex, apology poised on her lips. Alex didn't let her get a word out, though, before she'd swept her into an embrace. "This is not your fault, Em."

In spite of her best attempts to remain stoic, a sniffle escaped as she fought back tears. "This isn't what I wanted," she lamented. "I wanted this to be a celebration, not a goddamn funeral..."

"Give it time," Alex said gently, pulling back from the embrace so she could look Emily in the eyes. She gently cupped her cheek, smudging away the tear that escaped with her thumb. "She'll come around. She's just being a teenager."

"How do you know?" she begged. "What if she's angry forever?"

Alex shook her head fondly. "Teenage histrionics never last forever," she insisted. When Emily's expression remained doubtful, she assured her, "I'm not going to be scared off because of this, you know that, right? I didn't anticipate such a dramatic response, but I didn't expect it to be smooth sailing either. I told you that I'm committed to you and I meant it. So, believe me when I say that I'm not going anywhere."

Emily nodded, but said nothing.

"I want to hear you say it," Alex urged.

"I believe you," Emily said in a small voice.

Alex smiled brightly, then leaned in for a tender kiss. "I love you, Emily."