Discovered
The buzz of her phone sent her belly a flutter, and with each new notification Tifa was anxious to view his message.
Several days passed since Reno made an appearance at Seventh Heaven, providing her the time she'd requested. She never quite asked for the space, but upon further probing, she understood that his hands as well as other sensitive areas were not so likely to comply with the rational side of his brain. For now, they settled on text messages, to which she was eager to receive.
However, the agreement didn't stop him from making salacious requests.
The exchanges were initially innocent, yet slowly but surely descended into prurient territory. Tifa blushed at the appeals for provocative content, denying him at every turn despite his begging. The requests continued on in between pleasantries regardless, and she strangely found his persistence comforting.
The distance pushed her to move forward to formulate a path in bringing her new, budding relationship to light with those closest to her. After days and nights of separation and careful contemplation, she was no closer to a solution to her problem. To Reno's credit, he abstained from applying direct pressure and let her to come to her own conclusions regarding how to handle her family.
During that time, Tifa descended into normalcy. The children and the bar encapsulated the majority of her time, focusing her attention on the mundane responsibilities of being a caretaker and a business owner. The lack of freedom provided the vexatious reminder that her life was actively passing her by, only emphasized by the present predicament of Reno's absence. But communication between them was somewhat consistent and a welcome addition to her routine that lent a sense of stability she didn't know she needed.
It was a late Friday night when the ache of loneliness hit her hardest. The bar was closed and with the cleanup behind her, she fumbled with her phone at her bedside. Hovering over his contact, her thumb loomed just over the button to dial him.
The hour was late, and the last message came some time ago, cursing his late night hours at Headquarters. Their message exchanges were encouraging and increasingly personal, ranging within the realm of affectionate beguilement. She had no reason to believe her call would be unwelcome. Nonetheless, anxiety dripped through her veins and she almost closed the phone, forgetting the whole thing.
The number was dialed and the receiver was at her ear before she knew what she'd done.
The voicemail kicked in and she slapped the phone shut.
Tifa stood from the bed to wring her hands and pace. Her mind spiraled, thoughts free-falling into absurdity. Was it too late? Was he ignoring her call? Did he find someone else? These questions raced through her head as a voice filled with doubt taunted her relentlessly.
Irrationality was not her friend, and she attempted to send it back to the shadows of her subconscious from whence it came.
The pacing took her to her corkboard where her eyes fell to her list. Her hopes of enriching and controling her life rested within these lines of distant desires. Spend less time overthinking, while simplistic in its direction, seemed to be one of the most difficult notions to grasp and execute. As was her way to fall prey to the inner trappings an anxious heart brought her, the damage it caused her psyche was far too destructive to allow it to manifest.
The vibration in her palm redirected her attention back to her phone. A beat or two passed before she was able to flip it open to read the text.
still working babe. call u back soon.
And just like that, the boisterous noise in her head was silenced and the tremor in her heart quelled.
She fell asleep before the phone ever rang, and her regret in missing the call would knot her stomach come morning. He didn't leave a voicemail, but a short message in its stead:
missed u.
Frustration grew, but her window of opportunity to respond rapidly closed as the children were not only early risers, but Yuffie's sudden appearance came unannounced and mostly unexpected.
Days off came and went at a moments notice, and when granted, Yuffie seized the opportunity to take advantage of it. While dropping in would seem disruptive and chaotic to other households, such behavior wasn't entirely uncommon within Tifa's, having become rather comfortable upholding an open door policy.
While the two agreed on a visit, Tifa just didn't expected it quite so soon.
Yuffie's visit came bearing gifts for the children—a new colored pencil art set for Marlene and an intricately carved and painted Chocobo figurine for Denzel. While he was expressly gracious to Yuffie for the gift, there was a sense of confusion that also tinged Denzel's features. Noting his befuddlement, she offered a simple explanation as to the trinkets symbolism:
"Doesn't that remind you of someone we all know with a spiky yellow mess on his head?"
Small fingers glided over each carefully crafted detail of the figurine as he smiled, understanding the implication. Even though he was gone, Cloud Strife was certainly not forgotten. Despite the distance between them, he would always be his hero.
When the children disappeared upstairs to their room to put their newly acquired presents away, the two women were momentarily left alone.
Yuffie's presence made it all the more clear to Tifa that at some point she would have no choice but to rip the bandaid off. Her friends and family would filter in and out and eventually the truth would catch up and expose itself. She just wasn't sure if she was ready.
"Any more news on what's going on with Shinra and WRO?" Tifa asked. "Is the information going public?"
"Not yet. There's some details that are still being worked out." Yuffie's mouth opened and closed, as if she were going to elaborate but held back. Instead, she grinned wryly, "Barret's still in the dark, so you've got some time to prepare before he blows up. I suggest finding a bunker."
The intel provided a small semblance of comfort. She had a bit more time in navigating the muddy waters of her endeavor and the complications that would likely arise from them. She wondered then if detailing her current liaison to Yuffie and releasing the burden of maintaining the secret would serve to lighten the load. She placed trust into Tifa and it would have been fair to do the same.
"Speakin' of Barret..."
Tifa broke out of her contemplation to look at Yuffie. The smirk she found was far too smug and judgmental for her liking.
"I heard through the good ol' grapevine that a certain mullet-wearing Turk has not only been frequenting this establishment, but a certain Denzel has gotten a little too close for his liking." Her expression tightened with curiosity. "Mind telling me what'sa goin' on with you?"
Her tone took on an accusatory measure that Tifa didn't care for. It didn't lend any confidence in confiding her dalliances with said Turk and decided to hold back the confession. She let it anchor into the depths of secrecy.
Tifa's eyes darkened before she could stop it. "I don't know why either of you are suddenly doubting my parenting skills."
As if struck, Yuffie took a step back, waving her hands and shaking her head. "No way! That's not it at all. But I do find it curious that you seemed groovy enough to let Denzel mess around with his arsenal."
"It was just his baton," Tifa corrected. "And I told Barret it wouldn't happen again. That's the end of it."
The children barreled down the steps before any further interrogation, saving her from Yuffie's torturous scrutiny. Given the side eye, Tifa knew the respite was temporary.
With skies clear and weather permissible, a small rush of a dinner crowd flooded the venue. With an extra pair of hands, the storm of patrons was easily contained; Yuffie and Marlene lent their assistance on the floor serving and clearing tables while Denzel aided Tifa behind the bar, washing dishes as they came. They worked as a well oiled machine, manning their designated stations while keeping a lighthearted levity to their tasks.
Tifa was certainly grateful for the help, but she knew the kids would prefer fun and games their visitor so aptly provided. She encouraged their abandonment, assuring them she would handle the night just fine on her own once the rush had leveled out.
When the dinner crowd thinned and the drinking crowd replaced it, Yuffie collected the children and began the retreat to the upper floor. Denzel hesitated, glancing back through the bar as if searching. Disappointment framed his face, looking to Tifa for some sort of answer or assurance.
His interest in Reno certainly added to the mess she was already sifting through, but she couldn't fault him for his fascination. If anything, it alleviated some of the jitters she carried in introducing the new relationship to the rest of the family. The transition would still be a complicated concept for them to understand as Cloud's role within the unit, should he ever return, would be slightly modified. She reminded herself of their resilience and felt fairly hopeful the change would be an acceptable one.
Reluctant to address his chagrin, she gestured for him to follow Yuffie who waited for him. "Go play, I've got this."
The question lingered in his eyes, and Tifa held her breath, but an inquiry never came. Instead, he nodded and acquiesced to her direction, following Yuffie up the stairs.
Tifa lost herself in her work, moving about the bar to address each table with casual greetings as she tried to remove her mind from the rampant negativity that accosted it. Between the interrogation hours earlier and the very real dread of exposure, Tifa resolved to keep quiet for now. Putting Yuffie so close to the powder keg could set it off, and the ripple effect would be impossible to control. She just couldn't risk it.
The door opened and she turned from her position at a corner booth to greet the new arrival, only for her heart to plummet.
Adorned with a sardonic smirk and his usual business suit attire, Reno shot a mock salute in Tifa's direction and settled himself comfortably at the bar. She quickly followed, taking herself behind the counter as a mixture of emotions, ranging anywhere from delight to dismay, churned together as she approached him.
Casually, he brought out his pack and lighter from his inner blazer pocket, his demeanor calm and collected as he pulled a cigarette and wedged it between his lips. The lighter flickered, flame extending to catch the tip followed by a plume of smoke he directed away from her.
"Don't get mad," he said. "Been a long few days and I was bored and needed a drink. Besides, since we played a bit of phone tag I figured you missed me."
The trepidity in her stomach dissipated as his smirk morphed into something soft and endearing. The warmth of it traveled from her the tips of her fingers to the ends of her toes.
Leaning her forearms into the bar top, her lips curled into a small smile. "I'm not mad. And sorry I didn't respond. Things have been a little crazy today."
"I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me," he winked.
Tifa pushed off from the bar with a shake of her head, leaving him only to grab his preferred beer. She felt his eyes, hard and penetrating, following her every move. The time and distance between them only added fuel to the lascivious fire and she wondered just how long things could continue this way before it all burned down.
She returned to drop his drink in front him, and he was quick to grab her retreating hand. Within that moment, they forgot themselves and the agreement established as he entwined his fingers with hers. It was brief and fleeting, but it was enough to send her soaring.
When he let go, Tifa struggled to clear herself of the intimate memories of their not so distant past.
Reno chuckled as color flared over her cheeks. "Looks like you do miss me."
"Yuffie is here," she said quietly. The pink hue drained away, remembering precisely why distance was initiated to begin with. "Upstairs right now, but she's visiting…"
An air of indifference surrounded him. "I take it you haven't gushed about how charming I am to her yet."
"I just...I'm just afraid that she might become vocal about us if I do."
"Big mans' gotta be the first to know, eh?"
Tifa nodded, eyes averting away from him to the bar. Worry clouded her vision as she waited for his response. She asked for time, and he was giving it, but eventually he would break.
The clock was ticking, whether she liked it or not.
"I'll try to be on my best behavior..." his tone dropped to a suggestive octave, "but no promises."
Rendered speechless, she stepped back. A shudder ripped through her as she cast a demure glance after him, moving off and away from him.
Reno's long and heavy stares were anything but innocuous. Tifa kept adequate space between them to discourage temptation, yet even she was not insusceptible to his charm. Secret smiles found their way to her lips as she passed him or met his gaze from across the room. With his tongue at bay, his eyes were dark with lustful intentions and vivid transparency. His patience was dwindling.
Try as she might to focus on her work and patrons, her thoughts frequently fluttered back to him. The fervor behind his gaze crawled and clawed as she pulled a shot glass from the rack. Warmth at her belly ignited, retrieving a bottle of tequila from the back wall while her neck and hands grew clammy to the touch.
They shared a look between them that left her breathless.
The sudden touch at her elbow shocked her from her line of sight, nearly dropping the liquor in her grip. The small pool of amber contents sloshed as she whirled around to find Yuffie standing before her, a dubious expression on her face. A tight grip took her arm and Yuffie all but dragged Tifa to the side and presumably out of earshot of Reno.
"Okay—I let you off the hook earlier for the kids sake, but come on. You got something going on with the Turk?" she gestured toward the man in question, whose attention conveniently drifted elsewhere.
Tifa feigned exasperation while struggling to contain her composure beneath Yuffie's shrewd glower. "I thought I explained this earlier."
Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, Tifa. I could maybe buy the 'boys will be boys' thing with Denzel, but he was being awfully flirty with you."
Tifa frowned, attempting to harden her features. Her heart thrummed wildly. "He does that with all the girls, Yuffie. It's just how he is."
"Did you forget who you're talking to? It's not like I haven't seen you swat guys away like flies when they so much as step out of line. You two look way too comfortable with each other."
Tifa shot a cursory glance in his direction, who maintained his disinterest in their discussion. "Reno is a customer and has been coming here for some time now. And... a little attention brings in extra tips. That's all."
Yuffie was clearly unconvinced, her stance rigid as she placed a hand to her cocked hip. "My pretty little ass, that's all…"
Panic nibbled away at Tifa's resolve. "Seriously, it's nothing! Can we drop it please?"
Yuffie observed her quizzically while Tifa maintained an agitated poise. Finally, a small sigh passed, her face releasing its tight skepticism. "Fine fine, I believe you."
She moved into the kitchen, her sights set on Reno as she went by. Greeting Yuffie with a smirk, he tipped his beer toward her as a look of suspicion slowly stretched over her face. His performative nonchalance earned a heavy sigh and the shake of her head as she disappeared from his viewpoint.
The air was stifling as Tifa clung to the bottle in hand, battling against her fraying nerves, waiting for Yuffie to vacate the kitchen and return to the children. The stubborn lies fell from her lips easily, hard denial adding to growing, palpable tension. She could only hope Yuffie's prying was at an end.
When she re-emerged, Yuffie carried with her a platter stacked with a various assortment of cookies.
Tifa's first instinct was to question her and the tray she carried. Yuffie had a penchant for sugary treats which she naturally shared with the children during her visits, occasionally leading to restless nights and uncomfortable stomachs. Although, present company incentivized her to shoo off the visitor as soon as possible. With the two under the same roof, plausible deniability would become increasingly strained.
Yuffie made her way for the stairs unimpeded.
She stopped, however, just short of the steps, turning back around. "Hey Tifa." Once her attention was captured, she asked, "You'd...tell me if something was up, right?"
"Of course," Tifa answered quickly. Guilt clenched her throat, and she desperately hoped the reply would be enough to satisfy her.
Yuffie merely nodded and retreated back upstairs to join the kids with her sweet and indulgent delivery.
The remorse piled on as the little white lies mounted. Trust was such a precious thing and not given freely—she wasn't ready to put that kind of trust in Yuffie with something so fragile.
Visibly troubled by the conversation, Tifa returned to Reno. He looked far more amused than she felt he should. "I think Yuffie suspects us."
He scoffed, grinning. "Well that's obvious. I told you you're a terrible liar."
The corner of her eye caught a patron hailing for her attention, and she lifted a finger for patience and flashed a smile in response. She then returned her attention to Reno. "I don't want to ask this, but could you please head out earlier than usual tonight? I just want to…"
"Kick her off the scent?" he replied with a hint of annoyance.
"Yeah."
Reno paused, and she saw a glint of frustration cross his eyes. A glance to his beer, studying the label as if gathering his thoughts before he looked back to her. "You're prolonging the inevitable, you know."
"It's not the right time," she insisted.
A slight furrowing of his brows suggested his tolerance for the situation was narrowing. "Have you considered there might never be a right time?"
Tifa didn't answer, frozen by the weight of regret that pervaded her heart. It seeped in and held fast as the eventuality of what needed to be said came crashing down. If she waited too long, she would lose him. Fear was controlling her and they both knew it.
Several notes appeared on the counter beneath Reno's hand, having reached into his wallet to produce the currency. She couldn't recall the last time she'd requested his money and the sudden payment unnerved her. Words failed her as he slipped from his stool, cigarette snuffed in the ashtray.
"Figure it out."
The sharpness of his tone shot an icy chill down her spine, feet firmly rooted in place. She wanted nothing more but to chase after him as he stalked out the door, to assuage his fears that this wasn't all for nothing.
She didn't.
Collecting the gil he left behind, she returned to the empty shot glass, filling it with the remainder of tequila, just short of rim. Tossing the empty bottle into the bin at her feet, she delivered the beverage to the awaiting customer. Diving head first into her duties was a standard solution to many of her problems and this was no different.
But her concentration suffered, scarcely recalling her clienteles' requests once she returned behind the bar. Her mind was addled with worry and remorse, shaken by his abrupt exit. Deep breaths and moments later, she forced herself into her professional fortitude and carried on as if nothing were amiss.
By the time Yuffie bounded back down the stairs, Tifa managed to put her feelings into a box and set to occupying her downtime with washing and polishing glassware.
"Where did Turkey-head go?" Yuffie asked as she ambled up to Tifa's side.
"He left."
Yuffie tapped a finger to her chin dramatically, a brow lifting curiously. "That's interesting. Figured he'd be here until close, getting wasted."
Tifa pursed her lips, clinging to both the flute and cloth in her hands with excessive force. "He has to work early or something. I didn't ask."
"I'm sure you didn't."
Thoroughly irked by her persistent baiting, Tifa whirled on her with agitation on full display. "Yuffie, please!"
"Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time—it's nothing, Yuffie!" she mocked then huffed. "I just came down to see if you needed any help."
With her waning temper now controlled, she pushed forth a smile of gratitude. "Thanks. Could you run to the garage and grab a Dio Cuervo for me? I'm out."
Yuffie clasped her hands together beneath her chin and batted her lashes. "Say please?" The annoyed expression on Tifa's face was enough to push her into action. "Alright, I'm going."
As Yuffie moved to the back, a voice called for shots and a resounding note of approval rippled through the bar. A rugged clap to the shoulder of a young man not much older than Tifa, surrounded by various men his age and older. Whispers told of a promotion, and a celebratory drink was in order.
These were the types of distractions she counted on—to be thoroughly engrossed within the adrenaline rush that triggered from such high demand. A half thought formulated to call Yuffie for help that quickly dissolved as she divvied out shot after shot to the clamoring crowd.
She hoped to feel her phone, nestled securely in her back pocket, vibrate with a signal of reassurance that he wasn't upset by then, that he understood and was simply giving her time and space to figure it out. The callousness of his voice, however, shook the ground she stood on.
Forcing away the uncertainty, she quenched the alcoholic thirst of the crowd, losing herself to the rhythm of her task.
Dots of perspiration collected at her forehead as she took a rag to wipe the spillage from the countertop after the final beverage was delivered. It was then that Yuffie finally emerged from the kitchen, Dio Cuervo in tow.
"Took awhile," Tifa grinned teasingly. "Did you get lost?"
Yuffie set the bottle down beside her with a small thud. The grin she cast was borderline insidious. "Nope. Found exactly what I needed."
Something about the exchange unsettled her, but before Tifa had the opportunity to further probe, Yuffie was already heading for the stairs and out of sight.
The evening ticked on without incident, and her customers slowly but surely filed out of Seventh Heaven and into the city. The gentle hum of the cooler filled the room as the lingering patrons drained their beverages in silence and sauntered out into the cool night air.
Tifa pulled her phone free from her back pocket to find it void of messages.
Of course it was—he was angry with her.
She willed herself to send him a text of her own—an apology, a promise, something.
The familiar descent of footsteps interrupted her deliberation. Shutting her phone, she placed it back into her pocket resolving to deal with that dilemma later.
Yuffie approached with an overhead stretch and an obnoxious yawn. "Well, despite the scrumptious cookies, I managed to get the kids to sleep. Tired those little suckers out with the Wutai tickle fingers." She hooked her hands like claws and wiggled the fingers for emphasis.
"Thank you for taking care of them, and for your help earlier," Tifa said with a smile. She slipped past Yuffie to cross the bar who hopped back to provide ample space for her exit. Reaching the door, she turned the locks and shut the blinds.
Yuffie moved from behind the bar and across the floor to stand not more than a few feet from Tifa. "Now that we're alone... I've got something to show ya."
Tifa turned around to find the last thing she would have ever expected to see:
A pair of white cotton panties gently swaying between Yuffie's finger and thumb.
Mortification didn't begin to describe her current state of distress. How could she forget about them?
"I'm pretty sure dirty panties don't just walk all by themselves into a garage."
Tifa balled her hands into fists at her sides, swallowing the panic, the fear, the anger back down into her gut. All that was left was petulance. "You were snooping."
"Correction—I was investigating," Yuffie countered, her expression drawing tight. The accusation must have rubbed her raw. "Besides, you asked me to go into the garage. I just happened to stumble upon this little number. You need to get better at hiding evidence...and buy prettier underwear."
It occurred to her then she had nowhere to turn, nowhere to run. She could have easily admitted it all, laid out all the cards and relieved herself of the interrogation and accepted what was to come.
"You had no right," Tifa all but whispered, unable to dislodge the overwhelming need to remain defensive.
Yuffie didn't seem deterred, but the hurt in her eyes slowly became evident, lowering the garment in hand. "Are you going to be honest with me yet?"
The denial continued, stuck on a hamster wheel of deception. "Nothing is going on."
"The kids didn't do you any favors. Denzel and Marlene happily spilled the beans when I asked them about him being here, after hours on at least one occasion." She stopped, looking at Tifa expectantly.
She offered nothing but her silence.
"Your obvious tolerance of him, let alone the fact that you actually let Denzel get close enough to the guy tells me it's not nothing. Your questions about forgiving Shinra weren't suspicious when you asked them back then, but it makes loads more sense now."
Tifa just stood there, speechless and ashamed it came to this.
"You might as well come clean, because I have methods of finding stuff out and you won't like them." Yuffie's face fell with that, dejected. "I trusted you, you know…"
The defensive barrier began to whittle and break, and with it her resolve.
It was all too much, so...
Tifa told her everything.
She told her how one night that should have been a fleeting memory was the start of something new. She told her of the complex emotions that came with their affair and how she couldn't stop thinking of him. She told Yuffie how she found forgiveness in her heart for a man that had once stood on the opposite side of the war zone.
Finally, she told her that she was committed to giving it a fighting chance.
At some point, they came together at one of the middle tables. Tifa's hands were interlocked to steady her tremor as Yuffie sat across, wide-eyed and profoundly intrigued, panties forgotten on the floor at her feet.
A lull fell between them once the tale ended, and Tifa cautiously peered into Yuffie's eyes, fearing the worst. "Are you angry with me?"
It was a long while before an answer came, Yuffie fidgeting restlessly in her seat. "Well yeah, but because you couldn't trust me with this. Not because of...Reno."
Tifa bit at her bottom lip. "I'm sorry. This whole thing is not exactly...conventional."
"I'll say," Yuffie agreed. Her expression took on a more serious edge. "There are people in our immediate friendship octagon that aren't going to look at this very kindly. And you know who I'm thinking of."
"I know," Tifa answered simply. "I'll tell him."
Yuffie gazed at her critically, "Tell him tell him? Or tell him like you told me? You're lucky my history with the Turks isn't so sketch. Barret probably won't accept this."
Tifa frowned, averting her attention to her hands. The tremor returned as the dread of future conversations began to overwhelm her. "He has to."
"But what if he doesn't?"
Tifa knew it was a very real possibility. But it was an unacceptable outcome, one she didn't care to put any real thought into, "I'll cross that bridge if it happens."
Momentarily satisfied, Yuffie pitched forward to fold her arms on the table with a sigh. "I wouldn't have told them, you know. That's for you to do, not me. But I gotta ask...does this mean you've moved on from you-know-who?"
The context was obvious, as was the answer—it was time. "I have."
"Then I'll support you, any way I can," Yuffie told her sincerely, the smile that accompanied the offer positively genuine.
A significant weight lifted from her chest, and suddenly Tifa could breathe again.
They stood, and Tifa reached down to collect the discarded panties and stuffed them into her pocket. She thought of her family and how her negligence and carelessness was liable to hurt them if she continued this way. She thought of Reno and how unfairly she treated his patience and understanding. There was damage done that night, and the opportunity to make amends with the latter presented itself like a beacon of hope.
"Yuffie... do you think you could maybe watch the kids for me tomorrow night?"
Brown eyes lit up as a sly grin spread across her mouth. "Lookin' the get freaky deeky, eh?"
"Something like that…" Tifa admitted, struggling to hold her composure beneath the implication.
"Well you're in luck! You've got me another couple days until I'm off to Shinra." A certain pensiveness flashed over her features before it was gone the following instant. "Gonna link up with my new recruit."
"New recruit?"
Yuffie nodded with a bit of a smirk. "Looks like I'm acquiring your boy toy's bosom buddy, Rude of the Turkeys, into my branch."
Tifa was aware that Turks didn't often serve for life, but with Rude moving onto different pastures, she couldn't help but think of how Reno was dealing with it, if at all.
"That's a bit unexpected. I thought your department was unaffected."
"Well I obviously thought wrong," Yuffie grumbled, swiping a dirty glass from the table they occupied moments ago. "If I had to guess, it's not just about the money anymore. I think Reeve wants to dish out second chances. Old man is idealistic."
"Does that bother you?"
Tifa studied Yuffie as she fell silent, eyes narrowing in concentration. Finally, she pushed out a heavy breath and Tifa found she was still holding hers. "Who am I to say they aren't allowed to help clean up their mess?" She gave a quick glance around, her face scrunching as she took in the sight of the venue. "Speaking of messes...you should probably call loverboy while I start tackling this mess."
"Thank you."
"I know, I'm awesome." Yuffie winked before flitting about the bar clearing tables as she made her way toward the counter, arms filled with glasses and bottles alike.
Tifa pulled free her phone as she pondered precisely what she would say to him, if he would even accept her call. Should she apologize? Ask for forgiveness? She put him through the ringer, demanding his forbearance while wasting his time. Whatever else happened, she had to make him believe this was worth the wait.
Pressing his contact information, the tone rang against her ear, anxiety flaring as the tension forced her muscles rigid.
When he picked up, there was silence on the other end.
She took in a deep breath and held the phone steady despite the incessant quake of her hands.
"Let's go out tomorrow," she said, summoning every bit of strength and courage she had at her disposal. "I told Yuffie everything."