Page 21 of Get Over It, April Evans

Maybe shewasa terrible human being.

Daphne dipped the paddle back into the water. For a few seconds, April didn’t think she was going to answer and they’d be back to square one talking about long walks on the beach or favorite ice cream flavors.

But then Daphne inhaled. The tiniest sound, the simplest motion, but the air dragged slowly into her lungs, as though fighting its way in against Daphne’s will, and April felt it.

A shift.

Aknowing.

A familiarity.

“I thought I was going to get engaged,” Daphne finally said. “And instead…”

Her voice was quiet, but steady. April, however, felt her insidesdisintegrating. Daphne hesitated, then kept hesitating, her throat working in a swallow. April wanted to scream at her to go on, but somehow a softer side of her prevailed.

“Instead what?” she whispered. Even though she knew. Maybe Ramona was right about Daphne and Elena, and maybe April had known she was right the whole time, ever since Daphne showed up on the cabin’s porch teary and stressed.

Daphne smiled, but it was sad, resigned. “Instead, I got my heart broken.”

April let the truth settle between them. She waited to feel some kind of relief. Maybe even a little glee. She wasn’t proud, but there it was, her grudge-holding heart reaching for a tiny bit of smug satisfaction.

But she didn’t feel any of that.

She just felt an old ache, familiar and lonely.

“Elena,” Daphne said. “That’s her name.”

April just looked at Daphne, still digging for any clue that Daphne knew who she was. But there was nothing. Only a heartbroken woman sitting across from her.

“She’s older than me,” Daphne went on. “Eleven years. We met when I was a senior in college and I interned at the Museum of Fine Arts.”

April stayed silent.

“I know, right?” Daphne said, shaking her head and laughing a little. “Such a cliché. The young intern and her hot, single power-lesbian supervisor.”

That described Elena all right. Everything except…

“So she was single when you met her?” April asked.

Daphne frowned. “Of course she was.”

“You’re sure?” April asked.

Daphne blinked rapidly, clearly taken aback. “Yes. I’m sure. God, can you imagine? Why would you even ask me that?”

April opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She could tell Daphne the truth. Just get it off her chest, clear the air, explain why she’d been such an asshole since they’d met. But goddammit, she didn’t want to feel like this again—the ex, the woman scorned, the one who was left. And if she told Daphne the everything right now, that was who she’d be. All summer. Every art class. Every time she walked into the cabin to find Daphne reading or snuggling with Bob, that’sallshe would be.

Elena’s ex.

And that’s not who she was anymore.

So she offered Daphne a scrap, the tiniest crumb of truth.

“I get it,” April finally said. “I had a fiancée.”

Daphne sniffed. “You did?”

“Once upon a time. She was…well, she was lovely. Until she wasn’t.”