David stopped counting and looked up at her. "What?"
"I didn't play to win your bet. I played because..." Elena paused, trying to find the right words. "...because I needed to remember who I am. Not just the waitress or the daughter taking care of her sick mom, but the musician. The person who can make something beautiful, even when everything else is falling apart." The tears she'd been holding back finally started to fall. "I haven't played like that in two years. I thought maybe I'd lost it forever."
David slowly put his wallet back in his pocket. When he looked at Elena again, there was something different in his eyes—something that looked almost like respect.
"You didn't lose anything," he said softly. "You just buried it for a while. But it was always there, waiting."
Elena wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, not caring that her makeup was probably smeared. Around them, the restaurant was still silent, still watching, still waiting to see what would happen next. But Elena had a feeling that the real surprise was yet to come.
David stood there for a moment, looking like he was having some kind of internal battle with himself. Elena could see his mind working, calculating something. But this time, it didn't feel cold or business-like. It felt different.
"Elena," he said finally. "Can I ask you something personal?"
She nodded, still wiping tears from her cheeks.
"Why are you working here? I mean, with talent like that, you should be performing on stages, not serving tables."
The question hit Elena like a slap. It was the same question she asked herself every night when she got home exhausted from her double shifts. "Life isn't that simple," she said quietly.
"But it could be."