Page 138 of Get Over It, April Evans

There had to be at least two hundred people here, all of them masked, and the entire back of Jack and Carrie’s property was lit with golden lights and filled with partygoers, flowers, streamers, and music. April spotted Sasha by the buffet table—dressed in the fuchsia suit April had insisted she purchase at the same Santa Fe shop—and chatting with a woman with long red hair. Of course,chattingmay have been a bit of an understatement, as Sasha leaned in close and the woman smiled, eyes glittering beneath her mask at Sasha’s charm.

April laughed to herself and walked to the edge of the property to get a little quiet, a little perspective, stopping at a stone barrier that overlooked the deep cuts and ridges of Laurel Canyon. Far beyond, April knew the Pacific was probably visible, but it was too dark to see right now, the stars above sparkling softly.

She took her phone out of a tiny pocket hidden near her waist, glanced at the screen quickly before stuffing it out of sight again.

Nothing from Daphne.

Granted, April had sent the message at nearly one a.m. London time, so there was absolutely no reason to feel the need to fling herself into the canyon.

Metaphorically, of course.

And yet.

She sighed, knocking back the last of her champagne beforeturning back toward the house to go fetch another, but stopped short when another person blocked her path.

They were about ten feet away, and wore an ornate grass green dress, all lace and silk, every part of their body hugged tightly and covered. Their mask was shaped like a butterfly, hair piled on top of their head in an elegant mess, the color indiscernible in the evening light.

“God,” April said, startling and holding her stomach. “Warn a girl, will you?”

“Sorry,” the person said, their green-painted lips curling into a smile, their head tilting.

And April’s breath caught.

It caught, tangled, stopped, left her body altogether, because even with that two-syllable word, she knew that voice. She knew that head tilt too. Knew that mouth that was smiling slyly at her right now.

Her own mouth dropped open, and she stepped back a little from the shock of it all. The impossibility.

The person stepped closer though. Closer and closer, April moving backward on instinct until her butt hit the stone wall. The person’s hands went to her waist, and April’s fingers gripped their lace-covered elbows, faces leaning close, a breath apart.

“Yes,” Daphne said. “I check yes.”

April laughed, then ripped off her mask before taking Daphne’s off a bit more gently. Her eyes were lovely, rimmed with a sparkly green paint and long black lashes.

And they were fixed on April.

“What the hell are you doing here?” April asked, her hands back on Daphne’s arms, fingers tightening as though Daphne might vanish at any second, an apparition on the wind.

“I’m here for you,” Daphne said.

April closed her eyes for a second, letting those words soak through her skin, her bones, straight to the center of her chest. “Really?”

“Really,” Daphne said, her arms circling April’s waist now, pulling her closer.

“Why?” April asked, even though she already felt like water in Daphne’s hands. She still needed to know.

Daphne was silent for a beat, her eyes searching April’s. Finally, she sighed, her arms even tighter around April. “Because I spent three months getting to know myself. Living by myself. Working by myself. Every single choice was my own, every single action was only what I wanted to do.”

“Sounds like bliss.”

Daphne smiled softly. “It was. And it wasn’t.”

April said nothing, but her lungs felt frozen, her heartbeats, even her blood flow.

“I needed that time,” Daphne said. “I needed it for me, but I needed it for you too.”

“For me?”

Daphne leaned her forehead against April’s. “I needed the time alone to realize I don’t want to be alone. But more than that, I needed the time alone to realize that it wasn’t even about being alone. I like myself. I’m strong and capable, even when I’m scared.”