narrow band of warm light reached the pavement. Elise stayed seated for a second after the driver announced we had arrived.
“You remembered this?”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the rooftop, though we could not see the greenhouse from the car.
“I didn’t think you liked it that much.”
“I liked watching you there.”
She turned back.
I paid the driver, and we stepped into the evening chill.
Before we reached the door, I stopped.
“Elise.”
She faced me, drawing her jacket closed.
I had imagined words on the way over.
