Page 71 of Frosted Fakes

Elliott blinked. "How do you know that?"

"Mrs. Monmouth saw it through her window. She called it 'delightfully juvenile.'" Shay grinned. "I'm proud of you, honestly. Six months ago you would have just glared until Candice spontaneously combusted."

"I've grown as a person."

"You've got a girlfriend."

"We haven't—" Elliott stopped. Girlfriend. The word felt strange in her mouth. Good strange, but strange. "We haven't used labels."

"But you want to." Shay's voice softened. "Don't you?"

Elliott didn't answer immediately. She thought about Julia's hands, gentle on her wound. Julia's laugh, bright and warm. Julia falling asleep on the couch with her tablet showing some medical documentary, her face soft in the blue light.

"Yeah," she said finally. "I think I do."

"Then don't mess it up."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean it." Shay's expression went serious, which was alarming in itself. Shay was rarely serious about anything. "You have a habit, El. When things get good, you push people away. You find reasons to sabotage it. You convince yourself you don't deserve it."

"I don't."

"You do. I've watched you do it three times." Shay held up three fingers. "Naomi, Alex, Rachel. Every time things got real, you found an exit."

Elliott's jaw tightened. "That's not fair."

"It's completely fair. I love you, but you're a nightmare." Shay took her hand. "Julia's different. I can see it. She's got past your walls somehow, and that terrifies you. But don't let the fear win. Don't push her away just because being happy feels dangerous."

Elliott stared at her wine. "I'm going to see Milly," she said. "Tomorrow. I've been avoiding it, but… I'm going to go."

Shay blinked at the subject change. "That's good. She'll be happy."

"She's been asking." Elliott set down her glass. "I've been making excuses. Telling myself I'm too busy, or it's too hard, or…" She trailed off. "But if I can let Julia in, I can let Milly's aging in too. I can't just… avoid everything that's difficult forever."

Shay was quiet for a moment. "What changed?"

Elliott thought about it. About Milly collapsing. About Julia, calm and competent, saving her. About kissing Julia in the kitchen and feeling, for the first time in years, like maybe she didn't have to do everything alone.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe nothing. Maybe everything."

She did know, though. In her heart, she knew.

She'd spent so long building walls. Keeping people out. Telling herself that independence meant isolation, that strength meant never needing anyone.

But Milly was getting older. And Julia was getting closer. And Elliott was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, letting people in wasn't weakness.

Maybe it was the bravest thing she could do.

"Come on," Shay said, breaking the silence. "Let's finish this wine, and you can tell me more about how much you like Julia. Use details. Be specific. I want to live vicariously."

Elliott rolled her eyes. But she was smiling.

And for once, she didn't feel like she needed to hide it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The batter was behaving itself.