"I'm fine." He stammered, even though he was not.
"That was the second time today." The gentle reminder was quiet, non-jugging, and filled with obvious concern. But the message was powerful, just the same. And she was right. He'd had two attacks, since they'd left Frasier's; the first in the car on the drive to the cabin. Both had occurred because of an impromptu invitation, one that, despite all that had happened, he still did not regret. She was still rubbing his chest, her hand warm and gentle. But it wasn't right. She was engaged. She was in love with someone else.
If only Mel had been the one sitting beside him, doing her best to soothe him by rubbing his chest. She was a doctor after all, and if she were leaning in close, the way Daphne was doing at that moment, tending to him so gently, he wouldn't be feeling so guilty right now.
Oh how he wished… He wished that he really and truly wanted Mel there instead of Daphne. But he was no fool. He knew deep down that it was Daphne he really wanted. Daphne; the angel who was sitting beside him, tending to him with a gentleness unlike he'd ever known.
With as much strength as he could muster, he sat upright. Daphne's hand fell from his chest to the safer region of his forearm and shoulder. But he found that his chest ached; a sign that it was missing the warmth of her touch.
"Daphne, why don't you like Mel?"
The question came out of nowhere, but truthfully it was a very real concern. Frasier, his dad and Daphne… he knew all too well that they weren't fond of Mel at all, even more so than they were of Maris. When his eyes met Daphne's she was starting at him, obviously surprised by the question. Her hand fell away from his arm and she moved further across the sofa from him, as though wanting to make some distance between them. He'd made her uncomfortable.
He waited, studying her face for any signs of what she might say.
"Tell me about her." She urged. "Perhaps I just don't know her well enough."
Suddenly he was in the spotlight. What could he possibly say about Mel? Perhaps he should try to remember what it was about Mel Karnofsky that made him fall in love with her. But he did not want to sound like a love sick fiancé. He had to tread carefully.
"Well, um, let's see. She's very witty. Why just the other day she said something that was remarkably clever, but now I can't…"
She was waiting for him to continue, perhaps wanting to know the witty thing that Mel had said. But the memory, if indeed it was an actual memory, was completely lost on him.
"I've forgotten." He admitted. "But she says things like that all the time. She's very witty."
Daphne smiled, letting him know that it was safe to continue. "Um, as you know she's very attractive. She's… meticulous, very witty. She's brilliant, of course, which is why she's at this seminar in Atlanta. The seminar is actually only for three days, but she is staying longer to offer her services."
"She's very good, isn't she?"
"Yes, one of the best plastic surgeons in the country". This time he didn't have to stammer over the words, for they were genuine, spoken from the heart. "Maris sang her praises all the time, and as you probably know, Maris was very hard to please."
He paused, resuming the task at hand, which was turning over the puzzle pieces. "Mel makes me feel as though I can achieve great things. She makes me feel that I can be the person that I've always wanted to be."
Daphne nodded, giving him the courage to add one last thought.
"She's perfect." And Mel was perfect. She was perfect in a way that he couldn't possibly describe. But she was not perfect like-
"Are you happy, Dr. Crane?"
Instantly he was reminded of a time, not long after he'd met Daphne. When, while sitting in Café Nervosa on a rainy afternoon, Frasier had asked him the same question. And ironically, the question that followed had been; "Are you in love with Daphne?"
Again she was waiting patiently, her hand having mysteriously returned to his arm. He knew that there was only one way to answer.
"Yes, I'm happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life. I'm in love."
It did not matter that as he spoke the truth, he was speaking not of Mel but of the woman who was sitting beside him.