I did not sleep well that night.
Elena's voice echoed in my head. I want to see you. I want to apologize. I want to explain. Two years she had waited. Two years of silence. And now, suddenly, she wanted to talk.
The chandelier sparkled above me. I stared at it for a long time, waiting for sleep to come. It did not.
Around one in the morning, I gave up. I walked to the kitchen, made tea, and this time I did not burn it. Progress.
"You are awake."
I turned. Lucas stood in the doorway. Gray t-shirt. Sweatpants. Messy hair. He looked like he had not slept either.
"So are you," I said.
"I heard you walking."
"My footsteps do not sound like elephants."
"Yours do not. The elephants in my imagination do."
I stared at him. "That does not make sense."
"Nothing makes sense at one in the morning."
He walked to the counter and sat on the stool next to mine. I pushed my tea toward him. He took a sip.
"This is chamomile," he said.
"Yes."
"I hate chamomile."
"Then why did you drink it?"
"Because you offered."
"That is stupid."
"That is politeness."
"That is stupidity wrapped in politeness."
He looked at me. His ears were pink. Not red. Pink. The color of almost.
"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" he asked.
"I am not nervous. I am curious."
"Same thing."
"Curious is lighter. Nervous is heavier."
"Then what are you?"
I thought about it. "I am curious. With a side of nervous."
He almost smiled. "That is honest."
"I am trying to be more honest. The old me lied a lot."
"The old me hid a lot."
"What did you hide?"
He looked at his hands. His fingers were wrapped around my tea cup. The cup looked small in his hands.
"How I felt," he said quietly. "For five years, I hid how I felt."
"Why?"
"Because you were my boss. Because you were cold. Because you were hurting. Because you would have fired me if you knew."
"I would have fired you for liking me?"
"You fired people for less."
I thought about that. The old me. The scary one. The one who yelled at plants and made people cry.
"I am sorry," I said.
"You already apologized."
"I will keep apologizing until it sticks."
He looked at me. His eyes were soft. "It stuck the first time."
---
We sat in the kitchen until the sun came up.
We did not talk about Elena. Or Alexander. Or the past. We talked about small things. His mother's garden. Kevin's cat. Sophie's latest baking disaster.
"She made blue cupcakes last week," Lucas said.
"I ate three."
"They were blue."
"They were blueberry."
"Blueberries are purple."
"That is what I said."
He shook his head. "You are both colorblind."
"We are artists. We see colors differently."
"You are a CEO."
"CEOs can be artists."
"What kind of art?"
"I once drew a very good stick figure. On a very important document."
Lucas stared at me. "You drew on a document?"
"I was bored."
"Which document?"
"I do not remember. Probably something about money."
"You drew a stick figure on a quarterly report?"
"It was a very good stick figure."
He put his face in his hands. But his shoulders were shaking. He was laughing. Silently. Trying to hide it.
"I saw that," I said.
"Saw what?"
"You laughing."
"I was not laughing. I was sighing."
"You were laughing."
"I was sighing with enthusiasm."
"That is not a thing."
"It is now."
I laughed. He looked at me. His ears turned red.
"Your ears," I said.
"I know."
"Why?"
"Because you are laughing."
"Is that why?"
He did not answer. He just looked at me. The sun was rising behind him. Orange and pink and gold.
"Go to sleep, Vivian," he said.
"Go to sleep, Lucas."
He stood up. Walked to the door. Paused.
"Vivian," he said.
"Yes?"
"Whatever happens today, I will be there."
"I know."
"Good."
He left. The door closed behind him.
I sat in the kitchen, alone, watching the sun rise.
Today, I would see Elena.
Today, I would hear her apology.
Today, I would decide if I could forgive her.
But right now, I would sit here a little longer. And think about a man who drank chamomile tea even though he hated it. Because I offered.
---
The café was busy when we arrived.
Marlene had saved my usual table by the window. She did not ask why I needed it. She just saw my face and nodded.
"He is here," she said, looking at Lucas.
"He is always here."
"He is always watching you."
"That is creepy."
"That is love."
I looked at Lucas. He was standing by the counter, ordering coffee. His back was straight. His shoulders were broad. His ears were normal.
"Love is creepy," I said.
"Love is patient," Marlene said. "Love is kind. Love drinks chamomile tea even when he hates it."
I stared at her. "How did you know about the tea?"
"He texted me this morning. Asked me to buy chamomile. Said you might need it."
My chest felt warm. "He texted you?"
"He texted me." She smiled. "That man has been in love with you for five years. It is about time you noticed."
"I noticed."
"Good."
---
Elena arrived at two o'clock exactly.
I recognized her immediately. Not from memory. From photos. From the stories people had told me. She was tall. Blonde. Beautiful. Her eyes were red from crying.
She stopped when she saw me.
"Vivian," she said.
"Elena."
"Thank you for seeing me."
"I am not sure why I agreed."
She flinched. But she walked to the table and sat down across from me. Lucas was at the counter, watching. Close enough to see. Far enough to give us privacy.
"I am sorry," Elena said. "I know those words are not enough. I know they will never be enough. But I am sorry. For everything."
I looked at her. Really looked. The woman who was my best friend. The woman who betrayed me.
"I do not remember you," I said. "I do not remember what you did. I only know what people have told me."
"That must be strange."
"It is strange. I feel like I am reading a book about someone else's life."
Elena nodded. Her hands were shaking. "I have wanted to call you for two years. Every day. Every night. But I was scared."
"Of what?"
"Of you. Of your anger. Of losing you forever."
"You already lost me."
She cried. Silent tears. They rolled down her cheeks and fell onto the table.
"I know," she said. "I know."
"Why did you do it?"
She wiped her eyes. "I was lonely. I was stupid. I was jealous of what you had. Alexander was charming. He pursued me. I should have said no. I should have told you. But I was weak."
"Did you love him?"
"No." Her voice was firm. "I never loved him. It was a mistake. A terrible, stupid, unforgivable mistake."
I believed her. I did not know why. But I believed her.
"Alexander came to see me," I said. "A few weeks ago. He apologized too."
"What did you say?"
"I told him I did not remember him. I told him to leave."
Elena nodded. "He is good at apologizing. He is not good at changing."
"Are you?"
She looked at me. Her eyes were wet. "I have been in therapy for two years. I have not dated anyone. I have spent every day trying to become someone who deserves forgiveness."
"Deserves?"
"I know I do not deserve it. But I am hoping."
The café was quiet. Marlene was pretending not to listen. Lucas was pretending not to watch.
"Elena," I said.
"Yes?"
"I do not remember you. I do not remember our friendship. I do not remember the betrayal." I paused. "But everyone tells me we were close. That you were like a sister to me. That losing you broke something in me."
She cried harder.
"I cannot forgive you," I said. "Because I do not remember what you did. And I cannot hate you. Because I do not remember why I should."
"What can you do?"
I looked at her. At the woman who had been my best friend. At the woman who had destroyed my life.
"I can start over," I said. "Not as the old Vivian. As the new one. The one who wears banana socks and eats purple cupcakes and talks to dying plants."
Elena laughed. It was wet and shaky. "You talk to plants now?"
"This one plant. A ficus. It is very dramatic."
She laughed again. Then she cried. Then she laughed while crying.
"I do not deserve this," she said.
"Probably not."
"But you are giving me a chance anyway."
"I am giving myself a chance. To have a friend. To not be alone."
Elena reached across the table. Her hand hovered over mine. Asking permission.
I turned my palm up.
She took my hand. Her fingers were warm.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Do not thank me yet. I still might change my mind."
"I will spend the rest of my life earning your trust."
"That is a long time."
"I have nothing but time."
I looked at her. At the tears on her face. At the hope in her eyes.
"Okay," I said. "We start small. Coffee. Once a week. Here."
"Here?"
"At Marlene's. She makes good hot chocolate."
Elena nodded. "Okay. Coffee. Once a week."
"And you have to try Sophie's cupcakes."
"Who is Sophie?"
"My friend. She makes weird cupcakes. They are delicious."
Elena smiled. A real smile. Small. Uncertain. But real.
"I would like that," she said.
---
She left an hour later.
Lucas walked to my table and sat down across from me. His coffee was cold. He did not seem to care.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Tired."
"That is fair."
"She cried a lot."
"She had a lot to cry about."
"She wants to be friends again."
"Do you want that?"
I thought about it. Elena's face. Her tears. Her hope.
"I do not know," I said. "But I am willing to try."
Lucas nodded. "That is all anyone can do."
"Lucas?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for coming."
"You do not have to thank me."
"I know." I looked at him. "But I wanted to."
His ears turned red.
I smiled.
The café was warm. The hot chocolate was perfect. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.