“Yeah,” I say, the corner of my mouth lifting. “He’s been... the best kind of friend. Kept me grounded when I couldn’t see straight.”
I glance at her, a quiet warmth in my voice now.
“He’d love to see you again. And Flor, too—you didn’t really get to know each other back then.”
That draws the faintest smile from her. Soft. Real.
The moment settles—peaceful, suspended—and for once, it doesn’t feel like we’re carrying the weight of everything unsaid.
Her eyes flicker, then drop to the table as she begins unwrapping her sandwich—calm, steady, like it gives her hands something safe to do.
We don’t speak again right away. But the tension has eased.
We’re not circling each other anymore.
Just… sitting in the same moment.
* * *
We take a short walk after the coffee shop, quiet steps along the lakeside path, the wind crisp but not unpleasant. When we return to the car, Della pauses at the passenger door and looks at me, one brow raised.
“You’re not going to ask me anything?” she asks, her voice neutral—but there’s a quiet challenge underneath.
I tilt my head, meeting her gaze.
“Tempting. But... no.”
“No?” Her eyes widen slightly.
A slow smile creeps in.
“I wise woman once told me patience is a virtue. I figured I’d give it a try. Just for today.”
She eyes me, skeptical. “And, since when do you care about virtues?”
“Since 7 a.m. this morning,” I say without missing a beat.
That earns me a look—half exasperation, half reluctant amusement. And then, just barely, she lets out a quiet laugh.
Brief. Surprised. Like it slipped out before she could stop it. But it’s there.
She shakes her head, still smiling just a little, then opens the door and slips inside without another word.
I walk around to the driver’s side, the corners of my mouth still curved as I get behind the wheel.
Somewhere between silence and laughter... She let me in. Just a little.
And for now—
It’s enough.
* * *
Della
The road stretches out before us like a ribbon drawn gently across the hills, steady and quiet. The sky has shifted into soft, quiet blues, the kind that make you breathe slower.
Dorian hasn’t said much since we left Lake Bluff, and neither have I.
