My Love, Your Afterthought

Elizabeth's POV:

"Table 3601? Anyone here for 3601?"

I handed over my ticket and followed the hostess to my seat.

"Would you like the classic cheese fondue or the broth-based fondue?"

"Broth-based."

Brooke couldn't eat a meal without something rich and indulgent, and I couldn't stomach more than a few bites of it. Whenever the three of us ate together, we ended up catering to her taste instead. I set my coat down and waited for the fondue pot to arrive.

"Elizabeth!"

I looked up at the sound of my name.

Brooke Jennings was waving as she came toward me. Daryl McCabe followed behind her, Brooke's purse slung over his shoulder and her coat draped over his arm.

He stopped in front of me, a flicker of annoyance crossing his handsome features. "Elizabeth, just this once."

"Hm?"

"We already ordered over there. Bee insisted on coming to keep you company. Don't make a scene about it next time."

I was his girlfriend. He was the one who should've had a nickname for me. Instead, he always called me by my full first name, while Brooke got the warmer, more affectionate one. It stung, and it wasn't the first time.

Daryl brushed it off, said it was just habit, told me not to be so petty about a name. If I pushed back any further, it would turn into me being the one throwing a fit.

Brooke punched him lightly in the chest. "Don't you dare snap at Lizzie. If you make her cry, I won't forgive you."

"Yes, ma'am." Daryl gave a small bow, his voice carrying a warmth I'd never once heard directed at me. "Go ahead and spoil her. You've already ruined her, honestly."

Brooke looped her arm through mine and shot him a look. "Lizzie is my best friend. Who else am I supposed to spoil, if not her? Certainly not some ex-boyfriend."

Daryl conceded the point. He carefully set down her purse and coat, then took the seat closest to her.

The server brought over the fondue pot and was about to set it up when Daryl reached out to stop her. He turned to me, his tone edged with accusation. "Why is this broth?"

"I didn't think you two were coming, and I can't handle the heavy cheese, so I..."

"Switch it to the cheese fondue."

He didn't even wait for me to finish before telling the server to swap it for the cheese fondue Brooke liked.

"Wait." Brooke hesitated, her tone conceding. "Actually, let's just do broth."

"No." Daryl's voice was firm. "You've been talking about this place for a whole month. We finally got a table. You should get to actually enjoy it."

My hand paused as I set out the fondue forks.

So it was Brooke who'd been wanting fondue for a month, not him. She'd only mentioned it in passing, and Daryl had carried it in his mind for four weeks straight.

On my last birthday, I'd asked him to take me out for Mediterranean food. He'd said it was too light, that Brooke preferred bolder flavors and wouldn't like it. He promised to take me some other time, just the two of us. By the next morning, he'd already forgotten.

Brooke glanced at me, then at Daryl, her expression caught somewhere between guilt and hesitation. "Lizzie can't handle all that cheese."

Daryl looked at me, brow furrowing slightly. A moment later, he turned to the server. "Switch it to the cheese fondue. And bring me a separate pot of plain broth, too."

The server carried the broth fondue away, and Daryl finally sat down.

"Same as always," he said. "If it's too heavy for you, just cook your meat in the plain broth first."

I said nothing and kept laying out the forks and plates. Daryl took my silence, as he always did, for agreement.

Once the cheese was bubbling, Brooke stood to mix her dipping sauce. Daryl stopped her, his tone playfully scolding. "Sit down. Knowing you, you'll dump vinegar in thinking it's lemon juice again. I'll mix it for you."

Brooke huffed. "Who says I can't tell the difference?" She arched an eyebrow. "You remember what I like, don't you?"

Daryl rattled it off without missing a beat. "Three scoops of garlic aioli, two of herb butter, one of blue cheese sauce, three of hot sauce..."

Brooke cut him off, the corner of her mouth curling up. "All right, stop showing off your memory and go mix it."

I stood up to follow.

Brooke caught my arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To mix my sauce."

"Just leave that kind of thing to Daryl. He's plenty attentive when he's trying to impress me."

I looked up, and my eyes met Daryl's.