Page 27 of Never Enough

Hey, Daph.

I can almost see her face lighting up when she reads the message. It’s like a burst of color in a monochrome world.

Cutting through the bullshit, I text again to get past the “Hey, how are you?”

Me:

“Got plans Tuesday and Wednesday?”

My thumb hovers over the send button. I imagine us together, away from everything. Just Daphne and me, with her laughter and those hazel eyes that always seem to pierce through my gloom. No shadows, no doubts.

Vic was so right. Can’t believe I almost dropped the ball this hard.

It’s only been a few seconds, but I’m inpatient. So, I carry on texting.

Me:

“Let’s get out of here.”

I press send. The message floats into the digital ether, carrying all my thoughts with it.

I wait another five seconds. Am I being needy? Fuck yeah, but do I care? No.

Another second goes by. I can’t wait for her response. So I keep going.

Me:

“Rent a room? Dinner, cuddles, room service . . . What do you say?”

Sent. Done.

My breathing evens out. Waiting for her reply, I feel something stir—a spark. With Daphne, life isn’t just bearable; it’s vibrant. She’s melody in a sea of dissonance.

I sit on the edge of the bench with my cell. The air is cool as it hits my sweat-drenched skin. Everything’s on pause. Then, my phone vibrates with her reply. The buzz subsequently reminds me how much of a coward I am when I glace at her contact name. Not even man enough to label her what she means to me.

Lab Partner:

“Sounds perfect.Can’t wait ??.”

Perfect. That’s what she is. In this instant, the weight of existence lifts. There’s only the plan, the promise of hours wrapped up in each other’s presence. For once, the future feels like a guarantee rather than a threat.

The next day, I take her to a fancy restaurant inside a hotel. For the ambience, not to fuck. Though, I’m not opposed to the idea.

Anyway, I spot her immediately. Daphne stands by our reserved table, a vision in a simple black dress that hugs her curves in all the right places. My heart skips a beat, a flutter that feels both familiar and exhilarating.

I’ve been waiting all my life for this moment. For her smile directed at me while being inexplicitly mine.

“H-hey,” I stutter as I approach. Thankfully, my tone sounds far more casual than I am.

“Hi,” she replies, her joyful smile a radiant beam of sunshine that cuts through the dim lighting. My stomach does a little flip-flop.

We make our way into the restaurant, through hushed conversations and the clinking of silverware filling the air. I pull out a chairfor her, and she sits gracefully, her captivating eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. So, naturally, I can’t resist. My hand reaches out and finds hers on the crisp white tablecloth. A wave of warmth courses through me as I trace lazy circles on her soft skin with my thumb.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, her piercing gaze locking onto mine.

“Anything for you,” I reply, meaning every word. Completely relaxed now, I’m at peace and no longer stuttering. Not that she’d ever comment on it.

Daphne always treats me as though I’m worthy. Even if she were to mention my stutter, she’d only do it because she’s concerned about me. Unlike the bullies of my childhood, she’d never make fun of me.

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