“What do you want?” she forced herself to ask.
Elena smiled, that half-smirk curve to her mouth she employed when someone already knew the answer to their question.
“Elena,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “I ca—”
“Hear me out, okay?” Elena asked. “Before you say no, just listen.”
She held out her hand for Daphne to come closer and Daphne moved, bridging the gap between them before she was even aware that her brain had made the decision. A reflex.
Her fingers slid over Elena’s, familiar short nails with their light pink manicure, perfect and shiny and soft. Elena tangled their fingers together, then walked them both over to the couch, making sure Daphne sat before she did. They stayed like that for a second, looking at each other, Elena’s eyes roaming all over Daphne’s face.
“I like your hair,” Elena finally said.
Daphne laughed quietly. “You do not.”
“I do too.”
“You hate unconventional hair colors. You said it makes people seem desperate and sycophantic.”
Elena laughed. “You do know me.”
“I do.”
“And I know you,” Elena said, scooting a little closer. Their knees touched, and somehow, Daphne only just noticed that her hand was still in Elena’s.
“I know you dyed your hair because you wanted to feel something after I broke up with you,” Elena went on. “Wanted to experience something different. Wanted tobedifferent.”
Daphne’s throat tightened, her eyes filling almost instantly. She looked down at her jeans, focused on the multicolored paint splatters over the cotton.
“But you don’t need to change, baby,” Elena said softly, pulling Daphne’s hand into her lap, both hands cupping her fingers. “You’re perfect the way you are. And it took me losing you to realize it.”
Daphne shook her head as Elena pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, then ducked her head to try and capture Daphne’s eyes. And she was successful, Daphne’s own gaze latching on and following her like a baby duck imprinting on the first person she saw.
“Youdoknow me,” Elena said again. “And you know that sometimes I need space to understand how I’m feeling. I knew things between us were growing stagnant and we needed to either move forward or stop altogether. And I got scared.”
Daphne closed her eyes, warm tears gathering at her lash line, then falling slowly, methodically, as her memory played back that horrible night Elena had told her it was all over.
The hurt.
Theshock.
“I thought you were going to propose to me,” she managed to say, her voice small and pathetic, but she couldn’t help it. She’d felt small and pathetic then, and she felt small and pathetic now remembering it all over again.
“I know, baby,” Elena said, kissing Daphne’s hand again before releasing her.
Daphne kept her eyes closed, needing a minute to breathe, to gather herself. She heard Elena rustle next to her, then scoot closer and say her name.
So softly.
So gently.
Like a prayer, a song.
“Daphne,” Elena said again. “Open your eyes for me.”
Daphne did, the room coming into focus, Elena’s face and her smell and her perfectly husky voice.
“I’m readynow,” she said, then opened something in her hands.
