'd liked best.

"When you went back and tried again."

She frowned.

"That was the mistake."

"I liked hearing you work it out."

She thought about that, then ran to show the bear to a friend.

Elena stayed beside me.

"You came."

"I almost didn't make it."

"I could tell by your hair."

I tried to smooth it. She laughed, then caught my wrist before I made it worse.

The contact lasted only a second.

"Don't leave her waiting without telling us," she said. "If you can't come, call. Don't make her invent an explanation that blames herself."

I nodded. I didn't tell her what canceling the meeting might cost.

Over the following weeks, I learned to leave earlier. I also learned that Sophie hated peas, liked looking for the moon before dinner, and changed the rules of card games when she was losing.

Elena began taking more students. One referral led to another. When she asked me to watch Sophie during an evening lesson, I turned up without an employee to do it for me.

By the time she returned, I had lost four games and apparently owed her daughter a penguin.

"That doesn't sound enforceable," Elena said.

"She made me sign something."

"You really should read the contracts, Matteo."

On Sophie's birthday, I arrived before the guests.

She opened the door wearing a paper crown. For a moment, she just stood there.

"You're early."

"I was told I had six birthdays to make up for."

She took my hand and pulled me inside.

I brought one present, a small telescope we'd chosen together, and spent the afternoon assembling it badly. Clara corrected the instructions. Julian held a piece without offering advice. Elena watched from the kitchen doorway, smiling into her cup.

That night, Sophie fell asleep against me while telling me which planet we would find first.

Elena took a photograph before waking her.

Three months after the day in the lobby, I stayed late to read a bedtime story. Sophie insisted on the entire chapter and fell asleep halfway through the last page.

Elena and I cleared the cups from the living room.

In the kitchen, I hung the dish towel on a hook above the counter.

"You still do that," she said.

"What?"

"Put things where they look good instead of where I can reach them."

I moved the towel.

She stepped closer to take the sugar bowl. Our arms touched, and neither of us immediately moved away.

"I miss you," I said.

Elena looked down at the cup between her hands.

"I miss you too. It doesn't make this less frightening."

"Me?"

She nodded.

"Wanting you again. Believing you. Finding out one day that everyone knew something about my life except me."

There were a hundred promises I could have offered. I'd heard enough of those in my father's house.

"If something changes, you'll hear it from me. Even if I don't know how to say it. Even if you're going to be angry."

She set the cup down.

Her fingers caught the edge of my shirt, near a button I'd forgotten to fasten. I waited until she pulled me toward her.

The kiss began carefully. Then Elena made a small sound against my mouth, and six years of imagining disappeared beneath the simple fact of her hand on my face.

I held her waist. When we parted, my hand was shaking.

She laced her fingers through mine.

"Slowly this time," she whispered.

"Can I still come back tomorrow?"

Her smile trembled.

"Sophie has the cards ready."