“That doesn’t mean we couldn’t have been friends, E.”
“We would have never beenjustfriends, O.”
“Oh,” whispered Ophelia. The air was so dense she could cut it with a knife. “But we’re just friends now.”
Silence stretched between them as a war raged across Etienne’s face. Ophelia held her breath.
“If you want…and when you’re ready, we don’t have to bejustfriends,” he said tentatively.
Ophelia’s world spun, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “But I’m not your type!”
Etienne laughed, his whole face lighting up. “What are you talking about, ‘not my type’?”
“You only date cute, petite blondes. The exact opposite of me.”
Etienne hummed. “I’m embarrassed to admit this, but my past relationships always just happened. I never pursued any of those women.”
Ophelia playfully swatted at his arm. “Poor Etienne. Hot blondes just throw themselves at you.”
Etienne groaned. “This is not coming out well.” Etienne stood in front of her and placed both hands on her waist. “You are my type, Ophelia. Like Ben, I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you, and since then, I’ve been dating aimlessly in the hopes I would forget about you.” His hands tightened around her waist as if he were afraid she would move away. “Ihaven’t, but I’ve tried to. I’ve kept my distance, but you just kept walking into my life. And at your Passing, God, I was so nervous, O.” His right hand moved to cup her face. “I was so scared that you would never want to talk to me again after you cried for hours on me. I know how you are, Ophelia. I know you hate to be vulnerable around those you don’t know well. I could tell you hated that I saw you like that. I wanted to earn your trust, whenever you were ready to give it.”
Ophelia stared into his warm brown eyes, drinking him in. “And youhaveearned my trust.”
“I have? Because after I unintentionally came onto you with magic, I was so…fuck. I know we haven’t discussed it again. But I was ashamed and figured you’d never want to see me again. Then, after what happened with Mateo, I didn’t want you to think I was like him.”
“E, you aren’t even in the same universe as that disgusting human. I know for a fact that you had no idea what you were doing, and even if you had, I would have gladly let you. You have my trust. I promise.”
Etienne tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
“So...” she drawled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You like me?”
“Yes.”
“Like, like me, like me?”
His lip twitched. “Yes.”
Ophelia felt like her skin was on fire, and butterflies were caged inside her stomach, and then that dreaded self-doubt and fear consumed her whole. “I don’t know if I’m ready yet. Mateo, he…”
“I know. But when you’re ready, if you’re ever ready, will you tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Come on,” he said, lifting her off the counter. “I guess we can be just friends who eat gumbo for now, right?”
They sat on opposite ends of the couch, curled upunderneath blankets, and ate their giant bowls of gumbo while Etienne recounted his most hysterical patient stories.
When it was time for Etienne to go, Ophelia walked him to the door with a container of leftovers.
“Hey, E,” she said.
“Hmm?”
“I know we don’t need to do lessons anymore, but I was wondering if you still wanted to keep up our Wednesday night runs?”
“Absolutely,” he said with that smile and walked out the door.
In a burst of elation, Ophelia grabbed Tigger, kissed her cute pink nose, and let out a “Wheeeee!” ala Liesel fromThe Sound of Music.
