ELARA'S POV
The Portland gallery opened in September. I spent the first week there setting up, hiring staff, meeting with local artists. Damien called every night but never asked when I was coming back. He was trying so hard not to be controlling that he'd swung too far the other way.
"You can ask when I'm coming home," I said on our fifth call.
"I don't want to pressure you."
"It's not pressure to want to know my schedule."
"Friday, then? When are you back?"
"Sunday night. Is that okay?"
"It's fine. I just miss you."
"I miss you too."
When I got back, he was waiting at my apartment with takeout and flowers.
"This is nice," I said, genuinely touched.
"I wanted to do something without being asked. Is that okay?"
"It's perfect. Stop second-guessing everything."
We ate and I told
