Two plans.
One romantic, one ordinary.
Both real enough to require a calendar.
We were among the last to leave. Near the lemon trees, Elise stopped, turned toward me, and placed one hand against my chest. She had held that hand out once in a ballroom while I invented a reason not to take it.
This time, I stepped closer.
“May I?”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
The kiss was unhurried. Her fingers curled into my jacket, and I felt her exhale before she kissed me back. Nobody applauded. No song arrived
