Archive of Our Own

Betty watches Daniel cut the same stalk of broccoli into yet another piece. At this point he’s just shredding the poor thing. He’s been listless all night, picking at his food instead of eating. He didn’t even giggle when a guy at the next table ordered spotted dick. And yes, he’s been in London for a month now, so some might say he’s just used to it. But Betty’s known Daniel for four and a half years, and she knows he will go to his grave giggling over spotted dick.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” she asks. He looks up from his plate and blinks.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I’m not very fun tonight. I should just go so you don’t have to see me like this.”

Betty rolls her eyes. He’s so dramatic. “Daniel, you don’t have to be fun for me to keep you around. I mean, let’s be honest, you weren’t very fun for a big chunk of the time I’ve known you.”

Daniel laughs at that, but then he sighs again. “I went to a job interview today,” he admits softly. Betty’s guessing it didn’t go well.

“How was it?” she asks just in case, because sometimes he does that thing where he pretends things went poorly but really he’s excited and dorkily playing a joke.

He frowns and mumbles and looks away. Okay, not an act. She winces. In the month he’s been here, Daniel’s been struggling to find his place. At first, he was excited about starting over, about finding his way around a new city. He even got excited about taking the Tube. (Until he actually took the Tube.) But the shine wore off pretty quickly. Betty keeps bracing herself for the day he’s going to announce he’s going back to New York, at the very least, and most likely Mode.

This new thing between them has been hesitant and delicate. Neither of them are entirely sure how to go about letting it grow. They’ve had dinner together practically every night since that first day Daniel found her in Trafalgar Square, and there’s been some hand-holding, a little bit of cuddling on the couch during movies, and a lot of hugging. Even long, lingering hugs that leave Betty feeling a bit tingly. But beyond a few kisses on the cheek, they haven’t done anything else. More than once, as they’ve said good night, Betty’s felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as he’s looked down at her, sure he was going to kiss her, and she’s always been confusingly relieved when he hasn’t.

“What happened?” Betty presses. She reaches across the table and touches his hand. That gets him to stop fiddling with the mutilated broccoli and look at her.

His shoulders slump. “Did you know I’m not actually qualified to do anything?” His voice is quiet and hurt. Betty grabs his hand for real and holds on.

“Daniel, that’s not true,” she says immediately. “You were editor-in-chief of one of the most successful fashion magazines in the world!”

“And how did I get that job?” he reminds her wryly. He shakes his head. “You should’ve seen the waiting room at this interview today. There were all these kids who were…I don’t know, twenty-one? Twenty-two? And all of them had already done so much more than I have. They’ve volunteered and had internships and worked in the summers. I’ve had one job in my entire life, and I only got it because my name’s on the building.”

Betty doesn’t really know how to respond to that. He’s not wrong, necessarily. He was horribly unqualified to be Mode’s editor-in-chief. But he worked hard, and he learned fast.

“Hey,” she says. “Remember what you told me when I was all upset about winning that coin toss for the editor spot? It doesn’t matter how you get the job. What matters is what you do with it.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Who kept the magazine running during a huge recession in print media after Connor embezzled all the money?”

“Cal Hartley.”

Betty gives him a look. “Who found a way to keep it running?”

He sighs. “I did, I guess.”

“And who increased ad revenue by two percent in their first year as editor-in-chief, even after losing a bunch of advertisers at first?”

He starts to smile a little. “Well, Alexis was—”

She cuts him off. “Who threw an alternative fashion show and brought in a ton of positive press and loyal new readers?”

“We did.” He’s proud of that one. They both are.

“And who’s my favorite editor-in-chief Mode’s ever had?” she finishes with a big grin.

Now she gets a real smile. Daniel ducks his head, pleased at the praise. “I’m guessing not Wilhelmina?”

Betty scoffs. “Of course not. Would I go to Player magazine for Wilhelmina?”

Daniel groans, laughing. “Oh, God, can we forget that part of the timeline?”

“No, we cannot,” Betty says primly. She squeezes his hand, getting serious again. “Daniel, you may not have gotten the job on your own, but you worked hard and you made it your own, okay? You were a great editor-in-chief. And you graduated from Harvard! You just need to find something you’re passionate about that you can use your wide array of talents and skills for.”

He rests his chin on his free hand, smiling at her and letting his thumb stroke over hers. “What would I ever do without you?” There’s so much open care and fondness in his face and his voice that Betty’s breath catches for a second. This is the ledge they keep coming up to, and then neither of them quite know how to jump or even if they should.

Betty can think of some things she could say that would send them over. She could say you won’t have to find out. She could say that’s how I feel too. She could say nothing and just lean across the table and kiss him.

Except how would she do that? She’d have to stand up, for sure, and she probably wouldn’t be able to reach him even then. It doesn’t seem very smooth to run around the table for that kind of thing. Although maybe if she leaned over the table, he would, too. But then what if he didn’t? Then she’s just hanging there, halfway across the table, probably catching her hair on fire from the candle in the middle of the table. Besides, maybe she doesn’t want to. Why should she be the one to take them over this ledge? He’s sure to have a hell of a lot more hang-ups than Betty. Daniel isn’t normally the kind of guy who takes a month to kiss a woman if he wants to kiss her. He’s got to be having second thoughts.

“Um, Betty?” Daniel cuts into her thoughts, looking uncertain.

“Sorry.” She pulls her hand back. The moment is thoroughly gone. “So what kind of job was it?”

“It was a business administrator job at a finance company.”

Betty can’t help it—she wrinkles her nose. “No offense, but that sounds so boring.”

Daniel tips his head. “Yeah, it does. But it is what I majored in.”

“Is that really what you want to do, though?” she asks. “I mean, I can’t really picture you in a boring, plain suit, doing the same thing every day, stuck completely behind a desk all the time. At least at Mode, you had paperwork, but you got to go out and do stuff, too. And didn’t you hire Connor to do that at Mode because you didn’t want to?”

He’s starting to look a bit like a deer in headlights. “I didn’t really think of it that way.”

Betty cringes. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to ruin this for you. If you want a business administrator job, we’ll find you a business administrator job.”

“No, now I’m—I don’t know. Is that what I want?” He looks completely distressed and Betty feels guilty, until he adds, “See, this is why I should’ve told you I was looking. You always think of things I don’t.”

Well, that does make her preen a bit. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, curious. He’s been running life decisions by her for years now.

Daniel shrugs. Now he looks sheepish. “I wanted to surprise you,” he admits. “I wanted you to see that…you know. I’m a serious guy now, I—I could find a job and be responsible and everything.”

For some reason, that makes Betty want to cry. It also kind of makes her want to pinch his cheeks. “Daniel, I know you’re serious and responsible. I saw it all happen right in front of me, remember?”

“You’re the one who made it happen, mostly,” he murmurs.

Betty shakes her head. “No, you are. I might’ve, you know, nudged you in the right direction, but you wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t want to. So don’t take some job you’ll hate just because you think that’s how you show you’re mature.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “But I don’t really know what kind of job I won’t hate.”

“Let’s go make a list!” Betty even claps her hands together. Daniel looks significantly less enthused, but he signals for the check all the same. Betty doesn’t even fight Daniel on him picking up the tab for everything. She tried for about a day and then gave up. He’s still rich and getting quarterly dividends from Meade. Betty barely makes more than she did as his assistant. It’s not a big magazine.

It’s also nice how quickly waiters respond to his AmEx Black card. Betty feels a little bad about how much she enjoys that, but she does.

Daniel shakes his head as he signs the receipt. “I can’t believe I actually like you getting excited about making lists,” he mutters. “The things I do for you.”

Betty snorts. “Hey, this will benefit you, too.”

The waitress meets Daniel’s eyes. “You know, love, if she doesn’t, I’m sure I could help you out,” she says with a wink. Betty chokes on the last sip of wine she was taking.

“No thanks, I’ll be alright,” Daniel says easily, handing over the restaurant copy. The waitress looks over at Betty and raises her eyebrows.

“Well, alright then. Good luck with that.”

Daniel narrows his eyes as she walks off, but Betty waves it off and they leave without incident. That wasn’t even as mean as she’s gotten before. Besides, she feels all warm and gooey about the exchange. Daniel didn’t even look at the waitress. He didn’t do the curious up-and-down scan to see if he should take her up on her offer the way Betty’s seen him do hundreds of times. He didn’t even blink. He shot her down right away. He easily declined a blatant offer of sex with a hot woman to go make a boring list with Betty.

Oh, God. He’s in love with her. He actually is.

All this time, they’ve been going on dates and slowly trying to figure out their feelings, because Betty was afraid it wasn’t real. She was afraid he was trying to figure out if he was confusing missing her at work with missing her in general. She was afraid he was starting to realize moving to a different continent to pursue a maybe was crazy and ridiculous and he’d go back home. She’s even been afraid he’s been slowly realizing Betty’s completely wrong for him, not good enough, not pretty enough.

But now she realizes they didn’t decide to move slowly. That wasn’t a mutual decision, to feel things out little by little. It’s not Daniel who’s been balking at moving forward. It’s been her, all along. He’s gone at her pace, let her set the terms. He asks most nights if she’s free, but he never actually asks her out until she’s proven open to it. He’s only been to her office once, and that was because she was working late and forgot to eat. He hasn’t met any of her coworkers. He’s never shown up at her flat unannounced. He hasn’t so much as put his arm through hers unless she initiated the contact.

Betty’s been keeping Daniel at arm’s length because she was so positive he wasn’t sure about his feelings. But it turns out she’s been the one unsure about her feelings. Daniel is in. Daniel is clearly in. Daniel crossed the ocean to come be with her. He was going to get a job to prove to her he’s serious. He’s respected every single boundary she’s put up, even the ones she did subconsciously.

Betty stops walking. Daniel stops too, looking down at her questioningly. “You okay?” he asks. His eyes are full of concern, and he stands between her and the stream of muttering people on the sidewalk who are annoyed she’d just stop like that. And really, she knows better after navigating Manhattan for so many years.

“Um,” Betty says, mouth so dry she can hardly speak.

“Was something bad with the food?” he asks. “Are you sick?”

“No,” she manages to say. “I…need to call my dad.”

“Oh.” Daniel shrugs. “Um, okay. Right now?”

“Yes,” she says firmly. “I need to go home. So I can call my dad.”

Now he just looks confused. “Alright. I mean…we were heading back to your place anyway. Do you want me to…leave?”

“Yes.” Hurt flashes in his eyes for a second and Betty scrambles to fix it. “I’ll call you. When I’m done talking to my dad. I just have to—talk to him. Privately.”

“Okay,” Daniel says slowly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she insists, voice high. “I’m totally—I’m cool. I’m totes cool.”

He’s looking at her like she just grew a second head. “Totes,” he echoes.

“Totes.”

“Well, okay.” He steps up to the curb and flags down a cab. Betty was really excited about the black cabs in London. It all seemed so exciting and British. Since she’s realized now they’re the same as New York cabs, and about the same price, she’s stuck to the Tube and the bus. Daniel, of course, does not. He gives the guy her address and a few tenners—more than the ride could possibly cost, because they’re definitely within walking distance—and opens the door for her. “I’ll see you later, I guess?” he asks. There’s a furrow between his eyebrows and Betty doesn’t know what to do about it. She wants to step closer and smooth it out with her fingertips, and she also wants to run all the way home and not call him and not look back.

“Yep,” she chirps, overly bright to the point of shrillness the way she always does when she’s freaking out and he never complains about unless he’s hungover. “Bye!”

Then she darts in and kisses his cheek before jumping into the cab and slamming the door. They pull away, leaving Daniel standing forlornly on the curb. Betty lets out a long breath.

“Bad date, miss?” the cab driver asks sympathetically.

“No,” Betty groans, tipping her head back against the seat and closing her eyes. “He’s wonderful. And he loves me. And I don’t know what to do.”

The guy doesn’t try to give her advice. He raises his eyebrows and wisely lets her stew. She gets out in front of her building but doesn’t go inside. Her flat is too small for heavy thinking. There’s a little park up the street, so she heads there. But she does pull up Skype on her phone, because she wasn’t kidding about needing to talk to her dad. He keeps his computer pretty much always signed into Skype when he’s home, just in case Betty might be awake and ready to call him. It makes her stomach hurt with homesickness if she thinks about it too much.

“Mija,” he greets excitedly once they connect. “I didn’t know you’d be calling.” His smile falls at the look on her face. “Oh, no. Did something happen? Do you need money? Do you need a ticket home? Do you need me to come there? Are you okay?”

“Dad,” Betty stops his spiral. “Daniel’s in love with me.”

Ignacio stops firing questions at her. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Betty’s glad he shares her surprise. Until he says, “And?”

“What?” Betty gasps. “You knew?”

He looks confused. “Didn’t you?”

“No!” Betty wails, earning a few looks from some teenagers sprawled out under a tree.

“Oh.” Ignacio rubs his forehead. “Did he tell you he loves you?”

“No,” Betty admits. “Oh, no, I had this big realization and maybe I’m just making it up. What if he doesn’t?”

“He does,” Ignacio says.

“How do you know?” Betty demands. “Did he tell you?”

“No,” Ignacio says slowly. “But he moved to London to be with you.”

“He wanted a fresh start,” Betty says weakly.

Ignacio gives her a look like she’s being ridiculous. “Yeah…with you. He has enough money that he could have a fresh start anywhere. You said they have magazines all over the world. He just happened to pick London, a few weeks after you moved there?”

Betty’s going to hyperventilate. “Have you all been talking about this behind my back?”

“Betty, I’m confused,” Ignacio says. He didn’t answer her question, which means yes, they have been. “Why is this such a shock? You’ve been dating him for a month.”

“No, I haven’t!” she cries. “I have not! I have been going on dates with him. But I—I—” Oh, God, she really is going to hyperventilate.

“Take a deep breath,” Ignacio instructs. “Haven’t you two talked about any of this?”

“No,” Betty says. She has a realization that makes her cringe. “But he might have tried and I didn’t get what he was saying. I thought maybe at most he came out here because he thought he had feelings for me but I thought he was sort of, you know, feeling it all out, and then he’d realize he was wrong and confused and go home.”

Ignacio sighs. “Betty, you’ve known each other for years. And even when he was your boss, you two weren’t…normal. You’ve always been closer than professionals usually are. You don’t think he knows his own feelings by now?”

“He thought he liked purple for two years before he realized he didn’t!” Betty hisses. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“I think this has more to do with you than him.”

“Yeah, I know,” Betty says impatiently. “What do I do, Papi?”

Ignacio’s smile is fond and sympathetic. “Amor, I can’t tell you that.”

“But Dad,” Betty whines, mostly for dramatic effect. She’s calming down. Kind of.

Ignacio laughs. Then he just looks at her for a second. “So are you in love with him?” he asks gently.

Betty sighs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I’ve been avoiding thinking about it.” She’s been doing a very good job of avoiding it ever since Daniel’s mom hinted about Daniel’s feelings at Betty’s going away party. Oh, God, everyone else has known forever.

“Betty.”

“I guess it’s possible,” she admits softly.

Ignacio nods. “So the question is, are you going to do something about it?”

Betty doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I’m not…his type,” she finally says delicately. She knows the kind of women Daniel’s always gone for. Molly wasn’t quite the same mold, but she was still beautiful. And blonde. And thin, though she feels guilty for thinking that one because maybe it was the cancer.

“True,” Ignacio agrees. “And how’s that type worked out for him in the past?”

Betty shrugs. “Yeah. But…”

“Listen, mija,” Ignacio says seriously. “I know there’s a lot for you to worry about with Daniel. There’s plenty in his past I don’t love. But he’s changed a lot since you first met him, and he has a good heart. He’s a good man, and I know he’d treat you well. Part of loving someone is trusting their feelings, too. You have to decide if you’re going to let him be a grownup and know what he wants. You have to decide if you’re going to believe him when he tells you he wants you. And I think you need to decide soon. He’s been patient, but I don’t know if he’ll wait forever. It’s not fair to expect anyone to.”

Betty pushes her glasses up. “Okay,” she says. “You’re right.”

“You have some thinking to do,” Ignacio says.

Betty sighs. “I guess I do. Thanks, Papi. Sorry I called in a panic instead of just to talk.”

Ignacio shakes his head. “Oh, Betty. I love that you called me in a panic. Even an ocean away, you might still need me.”

“Dad, I’ll always need you,” she assures him with a grin.

“Tell me what you decide,” he requests. “But you should probably tell Daniel first.”

Betty huffs. “Thanks.”

They hang up, and Betty stares down at her phone. She’s accumulated an awful lot of pictures in the two months she’s been in London. Over half of them include Daniel. Daniel trying haggis. (And then Daniel throwing up haggis in a bin while Christina points and laughs.) Daniel pretending to squish Tower Bridge. Daniel cringing away from a mariachi band on a crowded Underground train. Daniel putting a bookshelf together for her. Daniel asleep on her couch.

Betty presses a finger to his slack, pixelated face. He’d traipsed around Piccadilly Circus with her all day, trying to find Hilda a birthday present. He hadn’t complained when she kept changing her mind and going back and forth between two shops. (Well, he hadn’t complained much, after she bribed him with ice cream they both knew he’d be buying.) And then he’d been the one to suggest they head over to Kensington and the bigger stores and shopping center there. He’d fallen asleep on the couch while she’d debated between teddy bear and Union Jack wrapping paper. And the next day he’d even gone back for the scarf she’d considered but decided was too expensive and had it sent to Hilda after all.

It’s kind of a lie to say she’s surprised to realize her own feelings. It’s more like she’s finally admitting them, even to herself. She’s been pushing down butterflies every time she’s seen him for the whole month he’s been here, and there’s a lot over the years that makes a ton of sense now that she’s letting herself think about it. The fact that she took this picture of him sleeping says an awful lot about her feelings, too. He was drooling, and all she could think about was how sweet he looked.

Betty bites her lip. Then she puts her phone back in her bag, gets off the bench, and starts running.

“Betty,” Daniel says, surprised. “What are you—I would’ve come to you.”

“I know,” Betty says. She’s not out of breath, because she gave up running about two feet from the park and just got a cab. Surely this is worth the splurge, and she’s been saving a lot of money since Daniel buys her dinner almost every night. Besides, Daniel lives over a mile away from her. She’s not running that far in her date shoes. “I know you would’ve. You have been. All this time, you’ve been coming to me, and I’ve been pushing you back.”

Daniel stares at her. “Uh, what?”

Betty laughs a little and puts her hand on his beautiful, clueless face. “You came all the way to London to be with me, and I was letting myself pretend you weren’t sure about your feelings.”

His eyes go wide. “Oh. Oh, I’m—” He takes a deep breath. “Here, come in,” he says, stepping back. “I don’t think we should have this talk in the doorway.”

“Mrs. Smith is going to tell everyone in the building I was here anyway,” Betty points out, but she follows him inside. The old lady who lives across the hall from Daniel is the nosiest woman Betty has ever met, and that’s including Amanda.

Daniel grins. “Yeah, well, she can wait to get all the details.” He looks a little nervous as he closes the door. He even wipes his hands on his pants. “Assuming I’ll…want to talk about the details?”

Betty laces her fingers through his and leads him across the entryway into the living room to sit on the couch. His flat is actually pretty modest, at least by Meade standards. Betty can admit to herself now that might be part of his plan to show her how serious and responsible he is.

He still looks wary. Betty lets herself just look at him. She doesn’t do that often. She’s known him for so long she can picture every detail of his face with her eyes closed, but she doesn’t ever just sit there and look. He’s always been attractive, of course, but she stopped noticing it after a while. He wasn’t hot, rich Daniel Meade, splashed all over the tabloids with different women every night. He was just Daniel, her best friend, the dork who got insecure over the most ridiculous things but always came through for Betty when she needed him.

But now she’s looking. And of course he’s still as gorgeous as the day she met him. Maybe even more, now, because she knows him and knows how amazing he is. He’s got some wrinkles now. She won’t point that out to him, because that would make him panic, probably, but there are some lines around his eyes that don’t go away when he stops smiling. She likes them. She likes thinking of him laughing and crinkling up his eyes to get those lines.

But they’re not all happy lines. Some of them are worry lines, from bad times like when Mode was going under. A lot of them are from losing Molly. Two weeks ago, Betty found a gray hair at the back of his head they decided he got from worrying about Molly. And the craziest part is that he hadn’t even freaked out too badly about it. Yes, he did squeal a little and demand Betty pluck it out before panicking about losing more hair, but after that he calmed down and he only brought it up for two days afterward. He’s going to age gracefully, Betty can tell. Bradford was an attractive older man, and Claire’s certainly a beautiful woman. Daniel’s got good genes.

She wants to see it. She wants to be there. She wants to give him more laugh lines and gray hairs. She wants to keep being the one he goes to when he’s worried his hair is thinning. (It isn’t, really, but sometimes she tells him it is just to punish him for being so vain.) She wants to help him figure out what he wants from this fresh start. She wants to be there as he tries new things. There’s a part of her, in the back of her mind, already picturing a future—long term, with a family, even.

She’s been staring at him for a while now. He looks nervous and uncomfortable, which is funny because people always think he loves being fawned over for his good looks. He doesn’t actually, and Betty knows that. She’s known for a long time he isn’t as confident as he pretends to be. He has deep scars from never feeling loved as a child that have only recently started to heal. He’s always afraid he isn’t good enough, that he doesn’t measure up. She can see all this in his eyes right now as she’s sitting here, silently looking at him.

“Betty,” he starts anxiously.

Betty is a big fan of communication in any relationship. She’s learned it time and again with her family and friends and with men she’s dated. Talking things through, making sure everyone’s on the same page, considering everyone’s feelings—those are all things she insists on.

But right now she thinks it’s better if she doesn’t say anything. She leans forward and kisses Daniel. There’s a terrifying second where he doesn’t respond and her brain starts screaming that she was wrong, her dad was wrong, Mrs. Meade was wrong, Marc was wrong all those times he joked about them being lovers, and she just ruined everything. She’s about to pull back and apologize harder than she’s ever apologized in her life.

And then he kisses her back. He winds an arm around her back and pulls her closer. He runs his other hand through her hair. Betty feels like she’s flying. It feels like the whole world goes blurry around the edges, like everything is soft and quiet the way it gets during the first snowfall of the year. Everything about this kiss is right.

They pull apart and Betty rests her forehead against his. “I came to tell you I know you have feelings for me,” Betty explains, eyes still closed. She can’t quite bring herself to talk about love just yet, even with those long-term future ideas in the back of her mind.

“Yeah, I do,” Daniel agrees. He doesn’t even hesitate. She’s been so stupid. At any point over the last month, she could have just asked and he would’ve told her. “I don’t really know how you’re the last person on earth to figure that out. Hilda’s been teasing me for weeks about not locking you down.”

“I didn’t think it was possible!” Betty defends herself. She makes a mental note to yell at her sister for not telling her. She pushes back to look at him. “When did you and Hilda become BFFs?”

“I needed advice,” he says with a shrug. “No one knows you better than Hilda.”

“Well, I guess that’s true. Except she must not have done a very good job helping you since it took me this long to figure it out,” Betty points out.

“That was probably my fault, not hers. I was scared to push you and I kept chickening out when I planned to say something. I’m sorry if that made you feel like I wasn’t sure. I am sure, Betty.”

“I know you are,” Betty promises. He hasn’t moved his arm from around her waist. And she really doesn’t want him to. The butterflies are still there in her stomach, but they’re different now. They’re good butterflies now. The best kind of butterflies.

“I’m guessing from this response you’re okay with it?” Daniel asks, a slow smile growing on his face.

Betty laughs. “You could say that.”

“What else could you say?” he asks, kind of nervous again. He’s unsure. Daniel doesn’t think he’s good enough for her. Betty can’t stop smiling, though she does feel bad that he’s afraid he isn’t good enough. She brushes her fingers through the beard he’s started growing again. She likes the beard.

“I have feelings for you too, Daniel,” she assures him. “I was scared to even let myself think about it. I was just afraid…” She sighs. “I mean, you’re you. You’re gorgeous and rich and successful and you could have any woman you want.”

He nuzzles his nose along hers. “Yeah?” he asks. He’s getting more confident by the minute. God, he’s so annoying when he’s being cocky. And it’s so hot. A little thrill goes down her spine as she thinks about that. She gets to think things like that now.

“Yes, Daniel,” Betty says, trying to keep her train of thought. “And I was scared you wouldn’t really pick me. I thought after you were here for a while, you’d realize you didn’t actually have feelings for me and you’d leave.”

That gets him to pull back. He puts his hand under her chin and makes sure she’s looking him in the eye. “Betty, I’ve been picking you for years. Before I even realized what it meant or why it mattered to me so much.”

That’s…true, Betty realizes. Daniel’s taken her as a plus-one to events when he could’ve gotten a date. He’s canceled plans to sit on the edge of her desk at Mode and help her write articles. He’s listened to her advice over people with more experience. He’s been in London for a month and hasn’t even gone on a date with anyone else.

“I was worried you didn’t want me,” he admits softly. He smiles sadly. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t.”

Betty shakes her head. “I do,” she says simply.

He leans back against the couch and pulls her to rest against him. “What made up your mind?” he asks. “I mean, why now?”

Betty nestles into his arms and he rests his head against the top of hers. How is this happening? She can’t believe this is real. She should pinch herself to make sure it’s not a dream. “Well, that waitress propositioned you at the restaurant,” she reminds him. “And you didn’t even look at her.”

She can feel the curve of his smile against the top of her head. “How could I look at anyone else when you were right there across the table?”

“It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around,” she tells him. “Of all the girls in the world…”

“You’re the only one who counts,” he promises. They’re both quiet for a second. Then Betty starts laughing.

“Oh, my God, that was so cheesy,” she says. “Does that line work for you?”

“Yeah,” he says, unabashed. “All the time. But I’m usually paying $800 for bottle service and everyone’s already drunk as I’m saying it, so that could make a difference.”

“What other lines did you use on women?” Betty asks, suddenly curious. She wonders if she would’ve fallen for Daniel’s old tricks, if things were different. If she’d been the type of girl he would’ve tried those tricks on.

Daniel sighs. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, tell me,” she cajoles.

Daniel groans. “Okay. Um. There was this one I’d use at clubs sometimes. I’d ask if she wanted to see a magic trick, and then when she said yes I’d lean in and lick her ear.”

Betty waits, but that’s apparently the end of it. “How is that a magic trick?” she asks, mystified. Daniel cracks up laughing, the vibrations in his chest tickling Betty’s ear. “Are you telling me not one woman pointed out it wasn’t a real magic trick?”

“No,” Daniel laughs. “Betty, none of them cared.”

Betty harrumphs. “I mean, you’re hot, but you’re not that hot.”

Daniel’s shaking with laughter. “Thanks.”

“I’m just saying, if a guy tells me he’s going to show me a magic trick, at the very least I expect him to pull a quarter out of my ear.”

“Yeah, that’s why I didn’t try that line on you,” Daniel points out.

“Wait, did you try any of your other lines on me and I didn’t notice?” Betty asks. That would be kind of disappointing. If someone’s using a line on her, she’d like to know, even if she thinks it’s silly.

“No,” Daniel promises. His voice is soft again and he presses his face into Betty’s hair. “None of that stuff would work on you. You’re too smart, and you’re not looking for the same thing all those women were looking for. Those lines worked on them because they let them. They didn’t care if I was just a womanizing jerk with a credit card. They weren’t exactly Nobel prize winners, either. Some of them complained when I didn’t ever call them again, but really most of them knew it was going to be a one-night stand. I wouldn’t try any of those tricks on you because that’s not what this is.”

Betty would swoon, if she were the type to swoon. Okay, she’s totally the type to swoon, but they’re sitting down, so she’s fine. “You know, we really should make that list of potential careers,” she points out.

Daniel laughs again, holding her tighter. “Oh, come on, can’t it wait? We’re having a heart-to-heart here and you’re still hung up on making a list?”

Betty shrugs. “I just—I’m so happy with my work, and I was so happy when you showed up and now we’re…this. I just want you to be as happy as I am, and I think for that to happen you need to find something.”

“Yeah,” Daniel says. “I want that. I do. I just…don’t know what kind of job will make me happy.” He sighs. “You were just kidding about me being your assistant, right?”

That makes Betty laugh out loud. He doesn’t say anything, and she realizes he was serious. “Oh, Daniel,” she says, unsure exactly how to nicely convey what she means. “You are…so good at so many things. But I’m not sure you’d be a good assistant.”

“Why?” he asks, and she can tell he’s not sure if he should be offended or not.

“Well…” She probably shouldn’t point out he can be a bit self-absorbed. He knows he can, and he admits it freely, but there’s a time to throw it in his face and right now just doesn’t seem to be that time. “I mean, you just have to do a lot of very thankless tasks. You’d have to go through the mail and sort all of it. Without getting distracted and reading through all the magazines.”

“I do hate mail,” he concedes.

“Right. And, uh, okay, you also have to remember to ask people for their lunch orders early in the day so you have time to put them in, and then you have to go pick them up, and the people at restaurants can be so rude when you go to pick up a big order, like, what, I ordered twenty-two meals and you’re not going to let me grab extra napkins? Come on. And when people are rude to you, you have to just keep your mouth shut and take it. They’ll act like you’re barely a person because you’re just an assistant and you can’t argue with them. Oh, and you have to get coffee for someone else every day, not just when you want to, and if you can’t afford the coffee cart they like and you don’t have time to go somewhere else for your own, you don’t get any.” She’s really picking up steam now. “And picking up someone else’s dry cleaning, and taking their photos to be developed, and all that stupid stuff with the cuffs around fashion week. And you have to notice which snacks they like best even if they won’t just tell you because they’ll totally say it doesn’t matter, but it does. And it’s so much handholding. Like, you always have to be on the lookout for their ego. And then they get insecure and you have to give them pep talks to make them feel better, and—”

“God, did you hate working for me?” Daniel cuts in, distressed. “Was I the worst boss ever?”

“No!” Betty scrambles to assure him. “Daniel, you were the best. You gave me bylines and let me run with projects from the very beginning, and I never felt like you didn’t respect me. But it turns out that’s pretty unusual. You should have heard the things some of the other assistants would tell me about what they had to do. I mean, the editor-in-chief of Elle makes her assistant clean her office bathroom for her.”

“Elle’s editor-in-chief has a private bathroom?”

Betty pushes away from him specifically to give him a dirty look. “That is so not the point.”

“Right. Okay. So I was totally awful but I was still better than everyone else.” He makes a face. “That’s not great.”

“I did not say you were totally awful,” she points out. “Yes, in the beginning, you made me miserable, but you were doing that on purpose and it didn’t even last a whole week. Then you started listening to your conscience and got better. Besides that one time at the photo shoot, you never humiliated me or anything like that. So many other assistants had to put up with just the worst, most degrading stuff. Think about everything Wilhelmina made Marc do. And they were never allowed to actually give their opinion or talk back. Obviously you never had a problem with that.”

Daniel snorts. “Yeah, you are way too judgmental to work for anyone who can’t handle your opinions.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “Oh, please, you needed me to be judgmental or you’d have gotten twice as many venereal diseases.”

He laughs out loud. “Ouch.” He tips his head to the side. “But true.” Then he frowns. “I did still make you do annoying menial tasks, though,” he realizes. “The dry cleaning and the photos and the pep talks…that all felt a bit personal.”

“I did not mind the pep talks,” she says quickly. “I would’ve done that for you even if I wasn’t your assistant. I still do, remember?”

He gives her a soft smile. “You gave me one an hour ago.”

“Exactly. You’ve always been a little needy, but that’s okay. I like making you feel better. And the dry cleaning and the photos…those weren’t so bad. That’s what being an assistant is. I was there to make your life easier.”

“Well, you sure did that job well,” Daniel says. “I get what you mean, though. There’s your whole thing about anticipating what people are going to want and being prepared. I guess I’m not really great at noticing what people need and getting it for them. And remembering which snacks people like or anything like that.”

“You’re getting better,” she reminds him soothingly. “Actually, you’ve always done that for me, even when I was your assistant. Maybe you wouldn’t make a good assistant in general, but you’d probably be a good assistant for me.”

“So you’ll hire me?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“No.” She rubs his arm to soften the blow. “I already hired someone, for one thing. And for another, don’t you think it would be a little weird at this point?” She gestures between them. “I think I’d have a hard time asking you to do the annoying little stuff after all this. Like, how would I say, go dig through the trash for a phone number I accidentally threw away after we’ve kissed?”

Daniel shrugs. “I slept with all the assistants I had before you. And then Amanda was my assistant and I slept with her, too, and I still made her get my messages and coffee and dry cleaning.” He blinks. “Huh. I should’ve felt bad about that, right?”

Betty waves her hand around, not wanting to tell him that yes, he should, but not wanting to shoot down his still-developing conscience, either. “Well, maybe. But hey, going back to publishing is not starting fresh, is it?”

He sighs again. “No, you’re right. And I couldn’t even work at your magazine anyway. I’m a part owner of a publishing company, and you’re not in it.”

“Okay,” she says briskly. “So. You jumped out of the Meade nest and here we are, deciding where you’ll fly.”

“You’re really going to make that list, aren’t you?” he asks, already letting go of her so she can get up. He shakes his head, exasperated but still fond.

“Well, we’re talking about it anyway,” she points out. She crosses the room to pull a notebook and a pen out of the kitchen drawer. She knew it was there because she’s the one who stashed it there. Originally, it was so Daniel could write down recipes after he called his mom for them, which she’d realized right away was ridiculous. Claire Meade does not have recipes to hand down. The only thing written down in Daniel’s round handwriting is Ignacio’s cupcake recipe.

“Hey, when did you ask my dad for this?” Betty asks.

“Oh, dang it, you weren’t supposed to see that,” Daniel says, chagrined.

Betty gasps. “My birthday!”

“Yeah, I was planning to surprise you. I guess it won’t be a surprise now.”

“It’ll be a surprise if you actually make them,” Betty mutters, flipping to a new page.

“I heard that.”

“I know you did,” Betty says sweetly, coming back to the couch. “Do you talk to everyone in my family all the time?”

Daniel laughs a little. “Well, I’ve never had a one-on-one conversation with Bobby.”

Betty snorts. “But everyone else?”

He nods, embarrassed now. “I talk to Hilda every Wednesday, your dad on Fridays, and Justin whenever he wants to call me but usually at least once a week. Is that weird?”

“No,” Betty decides after considering for a second. She likes it. God knows Daniel’s had a supreme lack of normal familial ties for the majority of his life. And Betty likes the idea of Daniel checking in with everyone. Especially Justin—he loves Bobby, but they’re still adjusting a bit to Bobby being Justin’s stepfather. If Justin willingly opens up to Daniel, Betty’s not going to look that gift horse in the mouth.

“Feel free to talk to my mom whenever you want,” Daniel offers. That makes Betty laugh a little. But Claire has always given Betty great advice, and she’s always believed in Betty. She’ll probably be really excited to hear about all this happening, too.

“I should call your mom,” Betty realizes. She probably won’t ever casually chat up Alexis, though, not that she’s going to say that out loud just now. “But. Okay. Back to the list. Possible careers outside of publishing and business administration. As a side note, I actually have no idea what a business administrator does.”

“I don’t know if I do, either,” Daniel confesses, making Betty laugh.

“Well, whatever, we don’t need to learn.” Betty writes Fresh Start! and underlines it. Daniel snorts and Betty underlines it again just to be cheeky. “Okay, let’s brainstorm. You could write a book.”

“I could not write a book,” Daniel scoffs immediately. “I’m not a good writer.”

“Yes, you are!” Betty protests. “Your letters from the editor were great. And your article about Diego Martinez and Victoria Velez was great.”

“After you fixed it,” he points out.

Betty waves her pen around. “I made some structural changes and a few word-choice edits. You’d have someone to do that if you wrote a book, too.”

“What would I write a book about?” Daniel asks, laughing. “I haven’t done anything interesting.”

Betty rolls her eyes so hard she thinks they might fall out of her head. “Daniel, first of all, you were editor-in-chief at Mode for four years. People care about that. But also, you went from a sleazy playboy dog to this wonderful, mature, committed man who was ready to raise a kid who just showed up out of nowhere without even getting a paternity test.”

“I’ll take the compliment in the second half of that.”

“You were supposed to,” she assures him. They’ve migrated to different ends of the couch, but they’ve intertwined their legs in the middle. It makes Betty feel kind of giddy and silly. It feels like a very domestic thing to do.

“I guess I could write about…Molly,” he says softly. “The whole rollercoaster of us getting together, and then finding out she had cancer, getting married, losing her. But then I’d probably have to write about the cult thing, too.” He makes a face. “I don’t know.”

“People would definitely love to read about you and Molly. You just have to decide if you want to open up that part of your life for everyone to know.”

Daniel bites his lip. “I don’t know. I think I’d feel kind of weird using Molly as some kind of publishing gimmick. She wasn’t just some woman to write a book about. She was my wife.” He shifts around, wincing a little. “Sorry. I won’t talk about her. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Betty puts the pen and notepad down for a second. This is bigger than her list. “Daniel,” she says gently. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know about Molly. I know how much she meant to you—still means to you. That’s not a bad thing.”

He scoots closer so he can take her hand, a little tentatively until she squeezes his encouragingly. “That doesn’t make you feel…I don’t know. Threatened?” he ventures.

Betty squeezes his hand again. “My mom died,” she reminds him. “And my dad got engaged to Elena. And Santos died, and now Hilda’s married to Bobby. It doesn’t mean my dad doesn’t really love Elena or Hilda doesn’t love Bobby. It’s just different. Molly changed you, and she’s always going to be a part of you. If I can’t accept that, I can’t actually accept you.” She shrugs, trying to find the right words. She wants him to know she really means all this. She wasn’t in love with him when he was with Molly, so maybe that’s the difference. “I’m glad you got to be with Molly, Daniel. She was pretty amazing. And she was really good for you and she made you happy. I would never want you to feel like you can’t talk about her just because of me.”

Daniel shakes his head, blinking hard. “God, I really don’t deserve you.”

“Well, that’s for me to decide,” Betty says, making her voice much more confident than she feels. After all, they just said everything out loud and kissed for the first time tonight. This is about as new as a relationship can get. Sort of. They kind of did a lot backward. They’ve apparently been dating for about a month, and they were already friends for years. Betty hasn’t been in a relationship like this before. “Now quit trying to change the subject,” she scolds teasingly. “You won’t get me to forget my list.”

Daniel smirks and leans closer. “Yeah? You don’t think there’s anything I could do to make you forget it?”

Betty gulps. “Oh,” she says. “I don’t—Daniel, that’s really soon, I…”

“Sorry,” he says quickly, moving away from her like he’s been burned. “I was just kidding. I wasn’t expecting…um, that. I promise. I’m not planning to throw you down and have my way with you or anything like that.”

Well isn’t that a mental image? Betty can feel her face flushing. She swallows hard. She remembers what Papi said about not making him wait forever. Not that this is what he meant, and he’d probably be kind of horrified to know she’s applying it to this situation, but whatever.

“Not yet, at least,” she says bravely. She means it to be brave, anyway. Instead she practically whispers it.

Daniel’s eyes bug out a little bit. “Uh-huh,” is all he says. He sounds faint. “Can we—if we keep talking about this I’m going to—um.”

Betty can’t help it. She starts to giggle. She slaps her hand over her mouth to try to stop it, but the giggles keep coming. She means to apologize, but then she hears Daniel snorting as he tries not to laugh, too. Then they’re both gasping for air between peals of laughter.

“This is so weird,” she finally manages to say. “Doesn’t this feel weird? A little?”

“Kind of,” Daniel admits. “This is all…totally new ground for us. Good weird, though, right?”

“Yes, Daniel,” she agrees softly, smiling. “Good weird.”

He takes a deep breath. “Okay. So. A book is out.”

She appreciates him getting them back on track. Proof he loves her. Oh, God. “Were you part of any clubs in school?”

He gives her a look. “Unless I somehow grow six inches and can join the NBA, I don’t think any of my extracurricular activities are a good place to look.”

“Mmhmm, the height’s definitely the only reason you can’t join the NBA,” Betty murmurs.

“I could’ve mentioned my other extracurricular—”

Betty cuts him off by holding up her hand. “Yes, Daniel, I know. You had a lot of sex in high school.”

“College,” he amends. “I actually didn’t have a lot of sex in high school.”

“Wait,” Betty says. “Really? I just assumed you were out there getting it on like the minute you hit puberty.”

He snorts at her phrasing. “No, I didn’t lose my virginity until I was seventeen. I was the oldest of all my friends.” He shakes his head like it’s ridiculous. Betty blows out a breath.

“Wow, how pathetic for you.”

“Sorry.” Daniel looks concerned. “Wait, is that—I mean.” He purses his lips. “Look, I know I’m more, um…experienced? But I don’t want that to be…Betty, I don’t—”

“I’m not worried about that,” Betty interrupts him. Mercifully, really, because he is floundering. “I mean—not much. I was sort of hung up on how I’m not the kind of woman you usually go for. I think that was one reason I was holding back.”

“Betty, you’re beautiful and smart and talented and…and capable and funny and independent—you’re exactly the kind of woman I should be going for.”

“I realize that now,” Betty says, cheeks warm. “And thank you.”

“You promise you’re not worried about, you know…all the other women?”

“Daniel, please,” Betty says. But not in a mean way, because he’s trying really hard right now. He’s considering her feelings and trying to communicate. It’s great. “If I wasn’t worried about measuring up to Molly, do you really think I’m worried about all the gross club sex you’ve had and barely remember?”

He blinks. “Wow. Okay. Huh. I’ve spent the last month terrified you’d be hung up on that.”

She shrugs. “Remember how Matt had a sex addiction? Yeah. Been there, dealt with this, talked to his sex therapist about it.”

“Oh, my God,” Daniel says in his big-realization voice. “I’m Matt.”

“Excuse me?” She can usually follow most of his craziness, but he definitely lost her this time.

“Think about it. He’s rich, he slept with lots of women to deal with not being loved enough as a child, he was your boss for a while. God, we even share a brother! Betty, am I just a stand-in for Matt?”

Betty does not mean to laugh at him. He’s kind of joking, but he’s doing it in the way that means there’s insecurity at the root of it. So laughing isn’t very nice of her. And she can kind of see where he’s coming from. When he lists it out like that, sure, there’s some logic to what he’s saying. But Betty can’t help the little laugh that escapes her.

“Okay.” Betty sets the list aside. She slides closer to Daniel and takes both his hands in hers. “Daniel. In those superficial ways, you and Matt are similar. But your personalities are completely different.”

“How?” he asks, voice small. “Because he painted you naked? Who knows, maybe I’d do that if I knew how to paint. And if I’d seen you naked.”

That makes her laugh again, but luckily he’s starting to smile, too. “Actually, yeah, the painting’s an example. Matt likes things and he gets really passionate…for a while. And then he just moves on to something else. Even at your worst, that wasn’t you. I mean, that was sort of you with women, in a way, but that was more of a coping mechanism.”

“Okay, but you’re already fine with that part, so let’s forget all the women.” He’s sheepish about it.

“Oh, no, we won’t forget,” Betty promises pointedly. “But we will move on.”

“God.”

“But you’re stubborn,” she reminds him. “And I actually mean that in a good way. Matt was always just sort of…go with the flow. In a bad way. If it wasn’t something he was passionate about, he didn’t really care. And he’d get interested in things if I wanted him to, but he had a tendency to just go with whatever I said.”

“And you hate that,” Daniel says, nodding. “Even though sometimes you think you want that.”

“See?” Betty raises her eyebrows. “You already know that.”

“Well, to be fair, you’re the one who told me,” he points out. “After Matt left for Africa. Like…over and over. You kept lying down on the chaise in my office like I was your therapist.”

“Alright,” she says, laughing a little. “Excuse me for turning to my friend in a time of need.”

“No, I loved it,” he promises. “You were my therapist enough times over the years. I even read up on relationship advice so I’d have things to say. The first time you were waiting for me to say something I panicked and read you the fortune cookie from my lunch.”

She laughs some more. “Okay, but that’s another thing. You were always up for whatever crazy thing I was going to throw at you. Not like you were just rolling over and letting me have my way, but you’d let me explain and then you’d come along for the ride with your own opinions and ideas and stuff. I don’t know how to sit here and explain it all to you, but you are not just a stand-in for Matt, okay? I promise.”

“Could we possibly agree that Matt was a stand-in for me before you realized your feelings?” Daniel’s making that face that means he’s being ridiculous on purpose because he thinks he’s adorable. Worst of all, he’s right: he is adorable. God help her.

“We cannot agree on that,” Betty says, because that seems a little mean for Matt. “But I do give my permission for you to believe that with all your heart.”

Daniel nods. “I’ll take it.” He laughs, shaking his head. “Not that I’m not really glad that you’re so completely secure in everything, but I definitely didn’t anticipate me being the insecure one about your past relationships.”

“I know,” Betty says. “I swear, I’m as surprised as you are.”

“You know, I’m actually not that surprised, now that I think about it,” he says, pulling her close again. Her stomach flips over. It’s very hard to concentrate when he touches her. “I’ve been with more women, but only a few actually meant anything. All your relationships were serious.”

“What can I say?” Betty says. “I don’t do casual very well.”

“I’m not complaining,” he breathes, tilting her face up so he can kiss her. Betty hasn’t put a lot of thought into this, but it’s not exactly shocking that Daniel is a very good kisser. Like, Betty’s not an expert or anything, but she’s pretty sure she could say without hesitation that Daniel is the best kisser she’s ever kissed. He could teach a class.

“Teacher!” she pulls back to say. “You could teach.”

Daniel stares at her for a minute. “You stopped kissing me to suggest that?” he asks, totally nonplussed. “What would I even teach?”

“Well, I thought of it because I was thinking you could teach a class on kissing,” she admits. It immediately goes to his head. She knew it would. It’s kind of fun complimenting him on things like that and watching his eyes light up. She feels very powerful. It was one thing to wield that power over Henry or Walter or even Matt, but this is Daniel Meade, and she’s got him eating out of her hand. It’s kind of intoxicating. She suddenly understands Amanda a little better.

“I mean, thank you,” he says, all smarmy and cocky. She rolls her eyes. God, he’s an idiot. How is she in love with him? “But I still don’t know what I’d teach. It’s not like there are fashion magazine schools I could go teach at.”

“I was thinking more like a management class. You were editor-in-chief for four years and you dealt with a lot of staff and finance issues.”

“Huh.” He blinks. “Yeah. I guess I did.” He leans over to grab the list and writes down teaching. Betty is kind of charmed that he wrote it himself. He’s taking her list seriously. Now that is attractive. “Can I ask you something?” he says seriously.

“Of course you can,” she assures him. She braces herself for something big. Is he going to ask about Henry, or did they get over that hurdle with Hilda’s wedding?

“Can we, um, decide if we’re figuring out my job prospects or figuring out our relationship? Because my brain is just—switching back and forth like this is confusing me.”

Betty huffs. “Are you asking if we can leave the list for later and just make out?”

“Look, I know that list-making really hits some buttons for you, and I’ll go with that if you really need me to, but it’s not very high on my hot list.”

Well, that does make Betty laugh. And she appreciates that he’d be willing to play along if she asked him to, even though she also knows he’d lose interest in the list part of it very quickly. She takes the list from him and sets it aside. His whole face lights up.

“We are going to find you something to pursue as a career,” she promises. “Something you’re passionate about that will make you happy.”

Some of the shine goes out of his eyes. “Oh. Yeah, great. Thank you.”

“But I think,” she goes on, “we can work on that tomorrow. Because you knew how you felt all this time and you waited a very long time to kiss me. And I’m a really good person, and I don’t want your sacrifice to go unrewarded.”

Daniel’s grin is growing by the second. “You’re really selfless.”

“Thank you.”

Betty does not think even one solitary thought about her list for the rest of the night.

Betty does not stay the night at Daniel’s apartment, even though it gets late and his apartment is very comfortable and at some point he took off his shirt and is down to one of those white tank-tops Betty always thought were kind of trashy but somehow he pulls off.

“You’re sure you don’t want to stay?” Daniel checks one last time before he hits call for a cab.

“Positive,” Betty says, not actually positive. She’s still sitting in his lap. She was hesitant to go there in the first place, because she’s never been much of a lap kind of girl, but somehow when he was kissing her neck her hesitation flew out the window and now she doesn’t really want to leave from this spot ever. She feels so different. Two months ago, she couldn’t imagine sitting in anyone’s lap, let alone Daniel’s, but somehow she feels like a cool, confident movie girl. Sitting in a hot guy’s lap, making out with him and taking off his shirt. But she’s still herself, after all, and she’s not going to ruin this relationship by not being sensible. “No offense, but you kind of have a tendency to get really intense really fast with relationships, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Do you mean Molly?” Daniel asks. “Because in my defense, part of that was because I was kind of racing against a clock on that one.”

“No, I was mostly remembering Sofia and Renee,” Betty points out.

“Okay, ouch,” Daniel says. “I sort of forgot you know all of the most humiliating things that have happened to me.”

“And am totally ready to use them against you,” Betty agrees sweetly.

Daniel shakes his head. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” he teases, but then he contradicts himself by coming in for another kiss.

Betty feels like she could sit here and kiss him forever. That scruff he’s got that hasn’t quite turned into a beard yet is rasping against her skin in the most dizzying way. She’s never kissed anyone with a beard before, actually. She always thought it would be uncomfortable.

It isn’t.

Although all this kissing is probably kind of uncomfortable for him. She’s still sitting in his lap, so she can feel the evidence of that.

“Okay, okay,” she pulls back, breathless. “No. Okay. I have to go.”

Daniel rests his face against her shoulder. “Okay,” he says. “If you really think that’s best.”

“It is what’s best.”

“I mean, you could stay here anyway. We won’t have sex. I’ll sleep out here on the couch,” he offers.

Betty raises her eyebrows skeptically. “What are the chances of that actually happening?”

“Hey, I can keep my hands to myself,” Daniel says defensively. “I’m not a caveman, Betty. I would never do more than you’re comfortable with.”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “Uh, yeah, Daniel, that’s the problem,” she says, that giddy confidence rising up again and loosening her tongue. “If I stay, we’re going to get a lot more comfortable.”

“God,” he groans. “And you’re totally positive that’s not a good idea?”

“Daniel,” she scolds, even though she’s still leaning into him completely.

He huffs. “No, okay, you’re right. Slowing down. Although I’m not very worried about this turning into another Sofia or Renee situation.” Then he pulls back a little and gasps dramatically. “Wait. You are launching a new magazine in a month.”

Betty cracks up laughing. “Oh, no, you caught me.”

“You editor-in-chiefs are always out to get me,” he laments. He furrows his brow. “Editors-in-chief?”

“Smart boy,” Betty praises, fingers still in his hair. He preens at her praise, so she holds back the hilarious slam about Trista she was planning to follow it with.

“Okay,” he sighs. “I’m hitting the call button.” He waits for a second, but she resolutely doesn’t stop him, and he really does order her a cab. Yes, he does then press her up against the door and kiss her for another few minutes when the cab gets there, but it’s not like she’s complaining.

She sighs dreamily as she closes her door behind her at home. The dreaminess fades a little as she looks around. She was excited about her little flat in the heart of central London, but it suddenly seems kind of drab if Daniel’s not here. She shakes her head at herself. She’s getting ridiculous. She was just scolding Daniel about moving too fast, and look at her now.

It’s past one am, but she wakes up her computer. She’s not going to publish any of this in her blog, obviously, but she will write about it in her private journal. How could she not? Skype pings at her. She glances at her clock. It’s almost nine on a Saturday night at home. It’s either Papi or Hilda. It could be Christina, but they don’t really Skype since they get to see each other more often.

But it’s Amanda. Betty almost can’t believe it. She hits the accept call button almost assuming it’ll be someone else. Like maybe someone broke into Amanda and Marc’s apartment and saw Betty connected and is going to try to squeeze her for ransom or something.

“Hello my little burrito!” Amanda yells excitedly. Betty can’t decide if Amanda being home on a Saturday night is stranger than a burglar demanding ransom would be.

“Amanda, not that I’m not happy to talk to you, but why aren’t you out somewhere? It’s Saturday night. Don’t you usually go clubbing?”

“Betty, please,” Amanda says haughtily. “I am a happily boyfriended woman. I don’t need to go clubbing on Saturday nights anymore. I only go on Sundays when the guys are more desperate and will buy me more free drinks.”

“Oh, right,” Betty says. “Makes total sense.”

“Wait, Betty, isn’t it pretty late in Mexico?”

“England,” Betty corrects. “And yes, it is. I was—well, I was…”

“Oh. My. God.” Amanda leans closer to the screen and screams out loud. “Betty Suarez, is that beard burn on your face?”

Betty hears a shriek and then Marc comes running out. “Is it from someone else?”

“How would I get beard burn on myself?” Betty asks. “Wait, I don’t have a beard anyway.” She feels her face. There are some definite bumps there. She’s not sure how Amanda could spot that over a webcam. Say what you will for the woman, she has a sixth sense for anything sexual. Or even sex-adjacent.

“You little slut,” Amanda says admiringly. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“I can’t believe you finally lost your virginity,” Marc adds. “Fifty years and you did the deed!”

Betty shakes her head. She has no idea how or why Marc and Amanda are two of her best friends. “I’m not fifty, I’m not a virgin, and I didn’t have sex tonight.”

“Sure you didn’t,” Amanda says, winking obviously.

“Who’s the lucky beast?” Marc asks curiously. He makes a sympathetic face. “Or was it just a really aggressive piece of pie?”

“None of your business,” Betty says, feeling herself blushing.

“Wait a second,” Marc says, eyes narrowing as he thinks. “Daniel’s been pouting about that horrible monstrosity he called a beard since I convinced him to shave it.”

“You didn’t convince him, you put gum in it,” Betty reminds him.

“Based on Daniel’s facial hair growth pattern, if he started growing his beard back when he went to London he’d be at an extremely prickly stage,” Amanda says. “I know from personal experience. Not on my face, though.”

“Oh, my God,” Betty says, waving away that mental image. “I did not need to hear that.”

“Are you sleeping with Daniel?” Amanda screams.

“No!” Betty screams back immediately. But she must’ve said it too quickly, or too desperately, because now Marc and Amanda have those looks on their faces that mean they’ve sniffed out gossip.

“Betty, oh my God, I know you love and miss me, but going for my leftovers is a little creepy,” Amanda says delightedly.

“Don’t call him your leftovers,” Betty shoots back defensively.

Amanda gasps. “Betty, do you love him?”

“Mandy, why are you acting surprised?” Marc asks, rolling his eyes. “They’ve been lovers for years. He got a taste of the tamale and went back for the enchilada.”

“No, we haven’t,” Betty protests. “And I…don’t actually understand that metaphor so I can’t really respond to it.”

“I mean, I guess we should’ve realized when Daniel quit Mode and went to London,” Amanda muses. “I just thought he was having another mental breakdown. Did you guys know he joined a cult once?”

Marc shakes his head and pushes her out of the way. “Why did you wait to jump into bed with him now? Think of all the favors you could’ve gotten if you’d been porking your boss. Oh, wait, he already gave you tons of special treatment anyway.”

“I slept with him while he was my boss and he didn’t give me any special treatment,” Amanda pouts. “Which is crazy because I’m way more his type than Ms. Hairball.”

“Okay, this has been a very fun conversation, but it’s late here,” Betty says. She feels like they just threw cold water on her. She’d been so excited about Daniel and their new relationship, but now she feels…weird. Is everyone going to react like this? Surely not. Her family is obviously already on board. And so is Daniel’s mom.

But is everyone else going to be whispering behind their backs? Betty knows she’s not the type of woman Daniel’s gone for in the past. She got over that, didn’t she? Except how could she get over that in one night? She swallows hard.

“Wait, Betty,” Amanda cries before Betty can hang up. She puts her face close to the screen again, looking serious. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What question?” Betty asks tiredly.

“Do you love him?”

Amanda doesn’t get serious and vulnerable very often, but she is right now. Betty bites her lip. “I don’t know,” she says. “We’re trying to take things slow.”

“Betty, you’ve been friends for years,” Marc points out quietly. “You know.”

Betty pushes up her glasses. “Yeah,” she says. “I do.” Earlier, she felt like yelling it out from the rooftops, but under the scrutiny of Marc and Amanda and what will soon be all of Mode, Betty feels a little stupid about it. Of course everyone’s going to whisper about it. They’ll all think it’s ridiculous. What if they convince Daniel it’s ridiculous?

Amanda puts her hand on the screen, where Betty can only assume her face is on their end. “I’m happy,” Amanda says softly. “You know, I love Tyler. And I want everyone else to be in love, too. So I’m glad you and Daniel finally figured it out.”

“I guess you are kind of perfect for each other,” Marc says, rolling his eyes. But the corner of his mouth is tugging upward. “For being editor-in-chief of a fashion magazine for so many years, he’s shockingly resistant to new trends.”

Betty’s throat is tight. “Thank you,” she says, ignoring the second half of Marc’s statement.

“Our little gato is growing up,” Amanda croons.

“Soon she’ll be a whole vato,” Marc adds.

“Who taught you guys Spanish words?” Betty asks, laughing even though they’re insulting her. She can’t deny that was funny.

“We bought a Spanish word-a-day calendar,” Amanda says. “In case we missed you.”

“That’s surprisingly touching,” Betty says. “Better than those creepy pictures you took of me sleeping.”

Amanda gasps. “Daniel can update my collection! He owes me.” She wiggles her eyebrows and whispers, “For sexual favors.”

“Please, stop,” Betty begs. She cannot have those images in her head.

“Ew, Mandy, it’s kind of weird that you slept with her husband,” Marc says to Amanda.

“Not my husband,” Betty points out.

“Wait, I thought you guys got married a few years ago,” Amanda says. “Lil Bow Wow was there.”

“That was a fashion show,” Betty says.

“No, they got married a few months ago,” Marc corrects. “In a reception hall in Queens.”

“That was my sister,” Betty corrects.

“So when did you and Daniel get married?” Amanda asks. She’s clearly forgotten the bit and is actually confused. Marc pets her hair comfortingly.

“We’re not married,” Betty reminds her patiently.

“Yet,” Marc says. “Lovahs!” he yells, the same way he used to. He shrugs. “Just wanted to do it for old time’s sake. It won’t be funny now that it’s true.”

“Is there any point asking you two to keep this quiet?” Betty tries. “Just for a little while?”

They both stare at her blankly. “Why?” Marc asks.

“Just…” Betty sighs. “As soon as people at Mode find out, it’s going to be a whole big thing. A lot of pressure and judgment and…” She shakes her head. “I knew it was a long shot.”

“Do people at Mode know you?” Amanda asks, puzzled.

“I worked there for four years,” Betty reminds her incredulously.

“Oh, my God, you did!” Amanda says. She laughs. “That’s hilarious.”

“Okay, well, nice talk, guys,” Betty says. She was so energized when they started this call, but these two are exhausting. “I’m going to bed.”

“Okay,” Amanda says easily. She leans close and kisses the webcam. “Say goodnight to Daniel.” She wanders off. Marc shakes his head.

“Thank God Tyler’s got the Meade money for them to fall back on,” he says.

“And why are you home on a Saturday night?” Betty asks.

Marc makes a face at her. “What, you get a little action and think you’re the queen of relationships and get to grill me now? Pah.”

“Marc.”

Marc looks away. “I might have hit something of a dry spell. It’s nothing to worry about; it’ll be over before you have time to eat two cheesecakes.” He raises an eyebrow. “Well, maybe three. This is you we’re talking about.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “Well, not that I’m a relationship expert, but I will say that anyone would be lucky to have you, Marc.”

Marc huffs, but he’s smiling again. “Of course they would.”

“Maybe you could…call Cliff?” she suggests.

His smile drops. “Betty,” he says warningly.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Betty concedes, holding up her hands. “I just know you still care about him and I thought you two were really great together and if you show him you’ve changed he’d be crazy not to forgive you.”

Marc sighs. “I don’t know.”

“I’m rooting for you either way,” she promises, and he smiles a little again.

“Go wax something, would you? I shudder to think what you’ve got going on under the hood.” He really does shudder. “Okay, Betty, bye, love you!” he chirps. Then he disconnects the call.

Betty stares at the blank screen for a minute, then wearily drags herself off to bed. Now she can’t stop thinking about the rumor mill at Mode. Everyone’s going to know in the next two hours, probably. She has to warn Daniel.

Marc and Amanda may know some things, she texts him. She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to approach this.

Which means all of Mode will know some things before tomorrow, he texts back.

Sorry.

What if he’s mad? Oh, God, they didn’t talk about this. Maybe he doesn’t want people to know. Their families are one thing, but Daniel’s got a reputation for being a suave playboy. It’s died down a little since Molly, but not totally. Betty’s going to completely tank that for him. Everyone at Mode is going to laugh at him for being with her. Betty takes off her glasses and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. This is all seeming like such a stupid idea now that she’s away from him and his smile and his lips.

Her phone buzzes and she has to put her glasses back on to read the text. I’m not. He even added a little smiley face. Betty laughs a little, biting her lip as she stares down at that dorky smiley face.

He’s in this. He wants her. She remembers what her dad said about trusting Daniel to know his own feelings. It obviously wasn’t a secret that he quit Mode, and most people must know he’s in London by now. He hasn’t been hesitant or embarrassed about any of this. Marc and Amanda, for all their jokes and insults, are happy for her. Happy for them. Betty’s family is going to be thrilled. She can already hear the way Hilda’s going to shriek when Betty tells her. Papi pushed her toward Daniel tonight, and Claire’s been pushing them together for a while now.

I can’t wait for everyone to know, Daniel adds. Maybe I’ll take a page from your book and hire a skywriter.

Betty has tears in her eyes. Daniel is completely committed. He’s so happy that they’re together. And so is Betty. This has been one of the best, most exciting nights of her life. She’s in love with her best friend, and he’s in love with her. Why on Earth should she care what anyone else thinks about it? She’s happy.

I can give you a guy’s number, she sends back. She presses her phone against her chest for a second. This is all going to be okay. Better than okay, really. Everything is working out better than she could have ever imagined.

She smiles up at her ceiling as her phone buzzes again. You should sleep, Daniel says. Then another text comes right on the heels of the first one. Do you want to get brunch in the morning? Then he sends another text after that. Sorry if this is too fast. I just can’t wait to see you again.

Betty giggles. Yes to brunch, she says, then types out, It’s not too fast. I can’t wait to see you, either. And yes to sleep. Goodnight.

She flops back on her bed with a happy sigh. Her life is as close to perfect as anyone’s life can be. Daniel sends her back a goodnight, and an endearingly dorky heart, and Betty resolves to work harder on his job search. She doesn’t want any part of Daniel’s life to be less than perfect. He needs some kind of career purpose to be completely fulfilled, she knows that about him. So she’s going to help him find it.

Betty’s phone buzzes on her desk, pulling her out of the fact-checking daze she was in. Technically, she doesn’t have to fact-check things herself. Her staff is there for a reason. But they’re a small magazine, and the staff is overworked as it is. Besides, Betty likes fact-checking. Especially when she gets to decide if she wants to do it or not.

Daniel’s calling her. Betty smiles immediately when she sees his name. It’s like some kind of involuntary muscle response now. She’d held out for two days before they had sex. And then she was almost completely serious when she told him he could teach a class on that, too, because holy shit. Betty hadn’t had complaints with her past boyfriends, necessarily, not since Walter, and she hadn’t complained with him because she hadn’t known any better. But Betty was always of the opinion that sex with someone you loved would always be great, no fancy tricks or moves necessary.

Good Lord was she ever underestimating some of those tricks and moves. It’s not even like they’re doing anything wild or kinky. Daniel just very much knows his way around a woman’s body. All that experience is absolutely working to Betty’s advantage. Matt was with hundreds of women before her, but either Matt was too worried about making her feel cheap to employ any of the same knowledge, or Matt just didn’t have Daniel’s prowess.

And Daniel totally gets off—literally—on being praised, so he’s always eager to find new ways to make her scream. Also literally, a few times, and now nosy Mrs. Smith from across the hall won’t look Betty in the eyes when they’re in the elevator at the same time.

It’s been almost three weeks, and Betty’s practically moved into Daniel’s apartment. So much for taking things slow. But it’s closer to work, and they’ve got one week left before their first issue hits the stand so even saving fifteen minutes on the commute makes a difference. And he has a washer and dryer so she doesn’t have to hang things on the radiator or blow-dry her jeans when she’s late, and the water pressure in his shower actually made her eyes cross the first time she got in there. Besides, she’s known him for four years. That has to count for something in the moving-slow column.

“Hey,” she picks up, smiling. “What are you up to? Uh…darling?” They’re workshopping pet names. As they’re going about their lives in this new aspect of their relationship, they occasionally come up against things that feel weird or awkward because of their friendship. Pet names for each other is one of them. Betty doesn’t really care about pet names, but Daniel is actually really sentimental. It isn’t all that surprising.

“Mm, no, not that one,” Daniel says. She can hear the weirded-out look on his face. “My mom calls me darling.”

“Oof, okay, no,” she agrees.

“Betty, I have two huge things to tell you,” Daniel says. He’s intense and amped up. She doesn’t know where he is, but she’s willing to bet he’s pacing.

“You do?” she asks, confused. “When I left two hours ago you were still in bed.”

“Yeah, it’s been a crazy morning,” he says. “Okay, the first one isn’t actually that huge. But I found a rowing crew with an open spot for me!”

“Oh, wow, Daniel, that’s great,” Betty says, trying to sound enthusiastic and not like she’s now picturing—and dreading—a whole bunch of Saturdays sitting in the rain squinting at him in a boat. She didn’t even know what crew was until she started working for him, and she definitely still doesn’t see the point of it. But she doesn’t really see the point of any sports, and it makes him happy, and it’ll be a good way for him to make friends. He’s been kind of lonely out here. Alexis hinted to Betty a few days ago that Daniel needs to take a break from calling her and DJ three times every day.

Daniel laughs. “You’re still a terrible liar. But it’s okay. You don’t have to come watch every weekend.”

“You’re an angel,” she tells him fervently. She’ll go sometimes, of course, but the thought of going every single weekend was already making her tired.

He snorts. “Okay, the other thing actually is big news. And you’re going to be excited. I was going to wait until you got home, and I had this whole thing planned, like, I even bought some candles from that lady on the corner with the mole but then I got a little worried her candles could be poison or something. She definitely doesn’t like me and she looks exactly like the witch Alexis said put a hex on Dad when were at this carnival at the Vineyard when we were kids.”

“Daniel,” Betty cuts in, a little charmed despite herself. That weird, rambling story is one of the most normal things she’s heard about his childhood.

“Right, okay, sorry. Anyway, I’m too excited and I want your opinion so I can’t wait. I got a job!”

“Wait, what?” Betty asks. “I didn’t even know you were interviewing.”

“I wasn’t,” he assures her. “It just kind of fell into my lap.”

“Well, what is it?” she asks, unsure what kind of job could just fall into his lap when he’s refusing to throw his last name around to get what he wants.

“I went for a run after I signed up for the rowing crew, because, you know, I haven’t been doing a very good job of staying in shape lately.”

Betty makes a disagreeing noise. “Not that I’ve seen.” She’d normally be kind of embarrassed about saying stuff like that, but Daniel loves it so much it actually makes her less self-conscious.

Daniel laughs. “Thank you, Betty. But sex cardio isn’t really good enough for rowing. Well, actually, that thing on Tuesday was good, but I don’t think we could do that often enough to get me in rowing shape. Oh, but once I’m in better shape we can definitely do it more often.”

“Um, okay.” This is her life now, apparently. She’s not opposed.

“And while I was running, I ran past this charity shop. They raise money for cancer research. And I care about that! So I went in and saw they were hiring a shop assistant.”

“You got a retail job?” Betty asks, not even trying to hide her disbelief.

“Oh, God, no.” She can actually hear Daniel shudder. “I would have to touch change. And their money here is so weird. I can’t figure out all the coins. No, they were doing interviews for the shop assistant and I met one of the HR people, who mentioned they also need people to get donations from rich people.”

“Okay.” Betty thinks she’s catching on now. “So you’re going to call rich people and ask them for money?”

“No, honey, that’s not how you get rich people to give money,” Daniel explains patiently. “You throw big parties and get them drunk and then they throw millions at you.”

Betty shakes her head. “Right, of course.” She actually did know that. From working with him, mostly. She’s helped plan those big parties with him, and she’s gone to a bunch of them.

“Betty, I’m going to plan and host the big fundraising galas!” He sounds so excited. And it’s a great cause, honestly, but Betty can’t help but feel a little skeptical.

“You’re going to…plan parties?” she asks.

“Look, I know it doesn’t sound like something I’d be good at,” he admits. “It’s a lot of details, and obviously I’ve always had someone else handling details for me. I’ll have to book venues and caterers and pick invitations and stuff like that.”

“Stuff I usually did for you,” she points out.

“I know. But I really think I can do this, Betty. I’ve been to more of these charity galas than I can remember, so I know what works and what doesn’t. I think I can design a pretty good invitation, because I have an eye for layouts and aesthetics. And I’m going to be in charge of a monthly donor newsletter. It’s mostly because rich people love seeing their name in print and they want everyone knowing they’re rich enough to give tons of money. And the best part is all of this is to raise money for cancer. I mean…” He hesitates. “This feels like a good fit for me. I think—I think it’ll be good for me.”

She can hear him doubting himself. Her logistical questions have him second-guessing how passionate he was just a few seconds ago. And really, this does seem like a good fit for him. He did most of the legwork in organizing the alternative fashion show a few years ago, and that turned out great. And he definitely had a point about knowing what rich people like.

“It sounds great,” she says sincerely. “Daniel, you sounded so excited just now. Passionate. I think we found your something.”

“You think so?” he checks.

“Yes, Daniel. And you’re going to be great at it. Like you said, you’ve been to tons of them. But you’ll still put your own spin on them, too. I bet you’ll be the best fundraiser cancer’s ever seen.” Then she makes a face at herself. “Okay, weird way of saying it, but you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.” He’s smiling now. She can picture the exact smile—proud of himself, but shyly. It’s still hard for him sometimes to believe he’s worthy of his own pride. It makes her chest ache.

“And hey, getting paid to plan parties sounds pretty fun,” Betty says.

“Oh. Actually I—well, I’m not getting paid,” Daniel says. “It’s not like I need the money, right? That’s some money they can save for the research funding. And it works with the visa I already have through Meade so they don’t have to worry about sponsoring me.”

Betty shakes her head. She would never imagine the spoiled jerk she met almost five years ago willingly taking an unpaid position that’s going to be a lot of grunt work. And the payoff of all that grunt work is going to be a party where he’s going to have to mingle with people he doesn’t like. He’s so different than when she first met him.

“Daniel,” she murmurs. “I love you.” She probably should’ve waited to tell him that in person, but she can’t help herself.

He laughs a little. “Really? I get that from volunteering?”

“Yes,” she tells him. “Just—you’re amazing. You’re generous and you’re caring and you’re really excited to go make a lot of money you’ll never touch. You have such a good heart. Did you know my dad told me that? When I freaked out after I finally figured out what was going on with us?”

“Wait, you actually called your dad that night?”

“Of course I did!” Betty laughs. “I was having a crisis. I needed him. And he told me that he wasn’t worried about me loving you, because you’re a good man and you have a good heart and he knew you’d treat me right. And he was right.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything for a minute. “Wow,” he says. He sounds a little choked up. “That means a lot to me.”

“I’m going to take an early lunch,” Betty says, deciding it on the spot. “And I’m going to go sit on the steps of the National Gallery.” It’s where they sat the first day he came to London.

“Can I come?” Daniel asks, the tone in his voice telling her he knows she told him this specifically so he would.

“Please do,” Betty says. “And when I see you, I’m going to kiss you for a long time.”

“I like the sound of that,” he says softly. She can hear that he’s smiling again. Her heart feels full. This is what she wanted—both of them with a purpose. Making their dreams come true. Even if they had to figure out what his dream was first and it turns out it’s kind of unexpected.

“I’m really happy,” she tells him.

“I am, too,” he says. “And I’m planning to help you stay that way.”

“Yeah?” She asks. “It’s a long-term job. It’s going to require a lot of commitment. Long hours. Some late nights.”

“That just happens to be exactly what I’m looking for,” he tells her. She can just imagine that dorky, smarmy look on his face he gets when he’s going along with a bit. It’s absolutely ridiculous and she loves it completely. “Something I’m passionate about that lets me use my wide array of talents and skills.” She laughs, but it’s pretty amazing to know he cares enough to remember things she’s said in her little pep talks. He always has, actually.

“You’re passionate about keeping me happy?” she asks.

“Definitely,” he says firmly. “So, what do you say, is the job mine?”

Betty thinks of Daniel, probably still wearing whatever ratty Harvard sweatshirt he wore to run in, sitting on the floor because he doesn’t want to get the couch dirty. She can perfectly picture the curve of his smile and the rogue bit of hair that sticks up in the back when he doesn’t tame it. She knows these galas are not going to be easy to plan. She also knows she’s going to have to dress up and go with him and watch people raise their eyebrows at the fact that they’re together. It’s going to be frustrating.

Not just the galas—this. A relationship together. Daniel is going to be oblivious and forgetful sometimes and Betty is going to be self-righteous and judgmental a lot of the time and they’re going to butt heads about so many things. But he’s always going to apologize. He’s proven that over the years she’s known him. She’ll apologize, too, although she’s actually worse at it than he is.

He knows her dreams, her hopes and fears, which parts of silly kids’ movies she cries at. He loves her family already. She knows that there will be days he wakes up and feels guilty about moving on without Molly, days where he’ll be cranky and snappish and won’t admit what’s wrong until later. He cries way easier than he wants anyone to know, but he’s always let Betty see it. He forgives easily, and he sets aside his own wants and his ego if there’s something more important on the line—be that the magazine or his family or Betty’s feelings. They’ve already been through a lot together, more than most couples go through in an entire lifetime. She’s really not all that worried about anything popping up in the future that they won’t be able to handle.

It’s about choosing to do it. Choosing to apologize, choosing to notice each other’s moods and needs, choosing to stay together. Just choosing each other, day in and day out. This is another ledge he’s asking for permission to jump off. In reality, they’ve been doing all this for years. But this is making it real in terms of their romantic relationship. Making it official. Calling it a serious relationship, or admitting it’s a serious relationship, really.

Betty smiles widely. “Daniel,” she says happily. “I can’t think of anyone on Earth I would rather give that job to than you.”

“Good,” Daniel says with a giddy little laugh. “Betty. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Betty says. She jumps off the ledge, she doesn’t look back.