She smiled, then stole part of my dessert.
We discussed our friends while the staff began clearing a nearby table. No announcement at midnight. No photograph sent to a group chat before we had time to understand the day ourselves. We would tell people plainly, together, and refuse the idea that years of other people’s speculation made the choice any less ours.
Then Elise grew quiet.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m happy.”
The simplicity of it caught me off guard.
“I keep waiting to feel foolish about how much,” she said.
