Page 127 of Get Over It, April Evans

“Really,” April said, and Daphne kissed her then. Soft and sweet, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to go deeper, harder, take April back to their cabin and undress her slowly.

But she couldn’t.

She had to do this.

Had to choose herself first.

“But?” April asked when Daphne broke the kiss.

Daphne shook her head. “It’s not abut. It’s…” She exhaled, searching for the right way to say it. “It’s timing.”

April’s brows lowered a little, but she stayed silent.

“I scared myself, April,” Daphne said. “With how close I was to giving in to Elena. To settling for someone safe, someone who didn’t care if I ever changed, ever grew.”

“I’m not Elena.”

“God, no, I know,” Daphne said, kissing April’s forehead. “Never.”

“And if we love each other…” April trailed off, her eyes searching Daphne’s now.

“I love you,” Daphne said firmly. “I do.AndI don’t know what that means. I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t know how to love you without losing myself. I don’t know how to find myself and love you at the same time. I’ve never experienced that balance. I’ve spent my entire life loving other people and ignoring myself. And that’s not real love, is it?”

April’s shoulders dropped a little, as though everything that Daphne was trying to say had just settled heavy and true.

“No,” April said, “it’s not.”

“I want to love you well, April Evans,” Daphne said. “That’sthe truest thing I know. And I can’t do that right now. I can’t do that until I figure out how to love myself first.”

They were silent after that, standing close, Daphne’s hands cupped around April’s slender neck, her fingers playing in her hair. April held on to Daphne too, her eyes lowered as she processed everything.

And Daphne let her. She let this moody, beautiful, perfect little scorpion take everything in right now, because at least she washere. At least she wasn’t running, wasn’t deflecting.

April was choosing herself too. At least, that was what Daphne hoped. What she wanted more than anything.

“Okay,” April finally said, lifting her eyes to Daphne. “Okay.”

One simple word, so much more to talk about and plan, even, but right now, in this moment,okaywas enough.

Okaywas a start,and when April pushed up to her tiptoes and wound her arms around Daphne’s shoulders, kissing her and whisperingokayagainst her mouth, Daphne believed it was true.

It would all be okay.

Theywould be okay.

Chapter

Thirty

Eight hours later,April walked down the aisle in Ramona’s backyard wearing a blush-pink dress that fell to just below her knees, gossamer spaghetti straps showing off her tattoos. She held a small bouquet of pale pink poppies while the duo Beach Glass—a woman with silver-streaked hair who played the violin, and a thick-banged brunette on an acoustic guitar—played a dreamy rendition of a well-known queer pop song.”

The evening was lovely.

The sun was low over the water, streaking the sky orange and pink and gold, and the small grassy area where the ceremony would take place was filled with familiar faces and movie stars, a strange amalgam of small town and Hollywood.

It was beautiful though.

Perfect.